Sholto took his place at the centre of the table, with his back to the fire. His sons took the chairs on either side
and Zelda sat at one of the short ends. I had a feeling Rupert would want to sit opposite the MacNab men, so I put my laptop down at the other end of the table, facing Zelda. That was also as close as I could get to Alec and I knew, whatever we were in for, I wanted to go through it at his side.
None of us had spoken. Sholto was pouring glasses of water from a carafe and Fergus appeared to be reading a text on his phone
, then replying to it. I wondered who would text him at 2.00am, then couldn’t resist a smile as he put the phone away in his sporran. I’d often wondered what men kept in their sporrans, much as one speculates about the contents of the Queen’s handbag.
Zelda was calm now. She’d applied
a bright lipstick and the determined set of her painted mouth suggested she was ready for anything. Alec sat silent and composed, but hyper-alert. His eyes shifting to the door told me of Rupert’s approach, long before he entered.
Rupert was, in his
own way, no less impressive than the MacNabs. He’d donned a dog collar, but wore no vestments or other indication of his office, yet his upright and dignified bearing inspired confidence. He was carrying a Bible, one that I recognised. He’d bought it in a secondhand bookshop in York many years ago, long before he was ordained. I’d asked him why on earth he’d bought a Bible. He’d said something had told him to buy it. Then, looking slightly embarrassed, he’d qualified his answer and added, ‘It was a voice. A persistent voice.’
T
hat voice and the purchase of that Bible were where Rupert’s life had changed direction. The Bible’s presence in the room was another source of inexplicable, agnostic comfort to me. I had no particular faith in the words the book contained, but as Rupert took his place on the empty side of the table, opposite the men, I knew the book itself would be a source of strength and courage for him.
He
set down his Bible, a prayer book, a notebook and pencil. Still standing, he asked Sholto for permission to open the proceedings with a prayer. Sholto nodded and stood. We all followed suit and Rupert said, ‘Almighty and Eternal God, you are present in every part of your creation. Protect this home and let no evil here oppose your rule. We ask you to free all those who live in this place from the influence of wicked spirits and from all their terrors and deceptions. Guard your people and keep them safe, so they may serve you, free from fear, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.’
Rupert asked us to sit again
. He waited for the chairs to finish scraping the ancient wooden boards, then began his introductory remarks.
‘Einstein once said, “Even if I saw
a ghost, I wouldn’t believe it”. I assume he meant he found it easier to believe in the vulnerability of the over-taxed mind than the existence of paranormal phenomena. But Einstein lived in a pre-quantum age. I speak to you tonight as a physicist as well as a minister and I have to tell you that matters in physics have reached the point where it’s difficult for a layperson to distinguish between the bogus claims of cranks and the legitimately strange claims of scientists.
‘Ni
els Bohr, who won a Nobel Prize for physics in 1922 said, “Anyone who isn’t shocked by quantum theory has not understood it.” For most of us, our understanding is limited by our perception. Humans can only detect four dimensions – space and time – but many of the world’s greatest minds believe there are more than four dimensions. They claim there could be eleven. Could ghosts exist in one of these other dimensions? Charlatans will try to give you answers. Scientists will admit they don’t know. But some of my colleagues believe there’s a connection between quantum physics and paranormal activity.
‘I’ve never seen a ghost, but unlike Einstein, I do believe in them – or rather, I believe in what they can
do
.’ Rupert paused to take a sip of water. The silence and tension in the room were palpable and I was relieved when he started to speak again in his soothing, measured tones. ‘I’ve spoken with all of you in the last few hours. None of you said you believe in the MacNab curse, but each of you spoke to me about the detrimental effects this non-existent curse has had on various members of the family, past and present. The curse doesn’t exist, but you’ve all seen what it can do.
‘So
I’d like to reassure you, that whether you believe in the existence of ghosts or in the existence of the unquiet spirit of Meredith MacNab and the malevolence of that spirit, doesn’t really matter. You don’t need to believe in any of these things for deliverance ministry to work. You don’t even need to believe in God. I’m confident it will be possible to bring peace to this troubled household and that’s what I’m here to do. I’ve been asked by Sholto to bless Cauldstane Castle throughout, which I shall do, saying prayers and sprinkling holy water. I hope you’ll all accompany me on that journey, but it isn’t necessary. In any case,’ Rupert allowed himself a smile. ‘I won’t be alone.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me—’
At that point
the lights went out. Zelda gasped and Sholto swore softly, but we weren’t plunged into darkness. There were plenty of candles burning and my laptop, running off its battery, cast a pool of light around me. Fergus got to his feet and said, ‘I’ll check the fuses.’
To my astonishment, Rupert produced a small bicycle lamp
from his jacket pocket. He switched it on, set it down beside his Bible and said, ‘I think you’ll find it’s a power cut. And it’s probably local.
Very
local.’
Fergus stood
, confused, until Sholto said, ‘Sit down, Ferg. We’ve light enough. Let’s not get distracted by…
game-playing
.’
As Fergus took his place again at the table, Rupert said
casually, ‘This often happens. No one knows what ghosts are, but a popular theory is they’re a form of energy. Another is that they need to batten on to some form of energy. What we do know is that electrical disturbance is quite common. And,’ he added, smiling kindly at Zelda, ‘nothing to worry about. So if I may,’ – a look to Sholto – ‘I will proceed...
‘There are two people present who have seen – or
believe
they’ve seen – a manifestation of the late Meredith MacNab.’ Rupert turned to me, ‘Jen, would you describe for us what happened on the day you fell into the river?’
As I began my account for the benefit of Zelda and Fergus, I
started to shiver, despite my thick jumper and the now considerable heat generated by the log fire. I assumed it must be the effect of re-living my freezing experience in the water, but then I recalled that a sudden drop in temperature had often indicated Meredith’s presence. Sholto must have registered the change too because he got up and stood in front of the fire, leaning on his stick, gazing into the flames. I began to feel nervous, but I pressed on with my tale, occasionally seeking Rupert’s eyes for reassurance.
I heard the noise
long before I identified the cause. It was just a funny little scraping noise, barely audible above my voice. The others were listening to me intently and gave no sign they’d noticed it. When the candles on the mantelpiece flickered, they caught my attention. I looked up above Sholto’s head and realised this was where the noise was coming from, but I could see nothing. I’d decided it must be rats scratching when something – just the slightest movement – made me look higher, at the claymore. I saw a rotating screw glint in the candlelight. Several rotating screws. As I watched, all the screws that fastened the claymore’s brackets to the wall were coming loose. The tiny scratching noise was caused by their slow rotation in the plaster.
Horrified, I stopped mid-sentence
. When I tried to speak again, to warn Sholto about the danger he was in, I found I couldn’t speak. I just sat there, gaping, frozen with fear. Alec must have noticed something was wrong and said sharply, ‘Jenny?’ The single word galvanized me. I pointed to the sword and said, ‘The screws!’ as, one by one, they dropped out of the wall, showering Sholto below as he bent to throw another log on to the fire.
The claymore
and its brackets were falling even before Alec was out of his chair, but he launched himself across the hearth, reached up and snatched the sword by the hilt as it descended, twisting the blade upwards so it missed Sholto as he straightened up, alarmed by Alec’s sudden movement.
Alec stood before the fire, clasping the claymore’s hilt
with both hands now, pointing the blade upwards. His chest rose and fell, but not, I was sure, with exertion. He was angry, angrier than I’d ever seen him, but when he spoke, his voice was quite calm. Nevertheless, I shivered again.
‘Jenny,
you once asked me how you’d kill someone with a claymore. I don’t believe I ever told you.’ He raised the sword to shoulder height, as if about to strike an imaginary foe. ‘It was made for slicing, so you’d bring the blade down diagonally where the neck meets the shoulder. Even if your enemy was wearing armour, there’d be a place beneath the helmet, near the neck, where he was vulnerable.’ Alec lowered the blade, but rotated it in his hands, as if he still intended to use it. I was terrified and wondered if the strain of the last twenty-four hours had proved too much for his beleaguered mind, but he continued, sounding perfectly sane. ‘The faithless MacNab wife, the one whose death was the origin of our curse, might have been formally executed. Hanged perhaps. But one version of the legend says she was struck down with a single blow from the Cauldstane claymore, by the son she was supposed to have seduced. Maybe,’ Alec said, his eyes glinting in the candlelight, ‘he wanted to silence her.’
Still gripping the sword, he
stepped over the fallen brackets, walked past Sholto, Fergus and Zelda and left the room without a word. In the silence we heard his footsteps descend the stairs.
A tremulous voice broke the silence. It was mine. ‘I think I know what he’s going to do
.’ I stared helplessly at Fergus. ‘Her portrait...’
Fergus leaped to his feet and ran to the door. I wasn’t far behind. We
stumbled down the stairs until we got to the first floor. Looking down, we saw Alec on the half-landing, facing the life-size portrait of Meredith. As he raised the claymore, Fergus yelled, ‘Alec –
no
!’, but the blade came down accurately and diagonally, slashing the canvas from head to foot, severing Meredith’s head and shoulder from the rest of her body. Alec lowered the sword and stood contemplating his handiwork.
‘For Christ’s sake, Alec!’ Fergus hissed. ‘What have you
done
?’
I turned
and was astonished to see his angry, white face. ‘But, Fergus – it wasn’t a very
good
painting. I doubt it would have fetched much at auction.’
‘You misunderstand, Jenny,’ Alec said
, turning round, his face impassive. ‘Fergus doesn’t give a damn about the portrait. He’s appalled because I’ve used the Cauldstane claymore for the third and last time. If it ever had any power to protect us, it’s gone now. Sorry, Ferg.’ He gave his brother a wry smile. ‘But I knew exactly what I was doing. And the claymore is mine to use. Or abuse.’
I pointed to the wrecked portrait. ‘You think
doing that might have got rid of her?’ Alec was about to answer when I heard a distant but familiar noise, coming from upstairs. ‘Listen! Can you hear that? Dear God, please tell me I’m imagining it!’
As if reeling from a blow,
Alec sank down onto the stairs. He bowed his head and placed the claymore across his thighs, laying his palms reverently on the blade. ‘No, you’re not imagining it,’ he murmured. It’s the harpsichord.’
As the music got louder, Fergus exclaimed, ‘What the hell is that?’
‘It’s Meredith’s ghost,’ Sholto bellowed. ‘She’s honouring us with a recital.’ We looked up to see him standing on the landing above. ‘The tune is
Scotland the Brave
, Jenny. Meredith’s idea of a joke, I suppose. Also her way of letting us know the claymore didn’t work. Never mind, Alec. It was worth a try. I never could abide that ridiculous portrait anyway.’
Alec got to his feet and, still holding the claymore,
he mounted the stairs, taking them two at a time.
‘No
, Alec!’ I called out as he passed. ‘Can’t you see? That’s exactly what she wants you to do. The portrait was worthless, but the harpsichord could fetch a small fortune. Don’t destroy it. Sell it – just to spite her!’
He paused on the stairs
, then a voice above us called out, ‘Jen?...’ I looked up from the half-landing and saw Rupert’s round face leaning over the banister on the second floor. ‘I think you’d better come back up. It’s your laptop… Meredith has started writing to you again.’
CHAPTER THIRTY
‘
Well, I must say, this is all vastly entertaining. It reminds me of when I used to host soireés at Cauldstane. It’s gratifying to find myself the centre of attention once again – and calling the tune. I do hope you all enjoyed the musical interlude, especially Alec with his ridiculous sword. What a pointless and pathetic gesture, destroying my portrait. I’m glad I—’
I stopped reading aloud and looked up at Rupert and the MacNabs who had reassembled round the table
in the Great Hall. ‘I’d rather not read this out. It’s too horrible.’
Alec reached across the table
for the laptop. ‘If you won’t, I will.’
I laid my hand on his. ‘No
– I’ll do it. If that’s what everyone wants.’ I looked round the table from one grim face to another and each nodded. I resumed my reading in a leaden monotone that did little to reduce the sickening impact of Meredith’s words.
‘I’m
glad I killed Alec’s boring little wife. Remorse is not a character weakness I was prone to anyway, but seeing what he’s done, I now rejoice that Coral suffered as she did. It wasn’t quick. She was carried along by the river for some time before she drowned. I suppose it must have been terrifying. Well, of course,
you
would know, wouldn’t you, Jenny?’
I looked up from the screen at Alec’s profile. It might have been carved from stone. I don’t know which was more frightening – the torrent of
vile words appearing on the screen or Alec’s absolute immobility. Reluctantly, I resumed my reading.
‘I see
you’ve now brought a priest in to dispatch me. How amusing! I’m actually rather fond of priests, as Sholto will confirm. I look forward to witnessing his efforts on your behalf, but they’re doomed to failure, I’m afraid, because someone is keeping me here.’
I
stared at the screen, waiting for Meredith to continue, then said, ‘She’s stopped writing.’
‘She’s playing a game,
’ Sholto growled. ‘Ask her who it is. And how.’
I typed “Who
is keeping you here?”
S
he answered immediately.
‘Someone who loves me. Someone who has never let me go.’
Without waiting for permission or corroboration, I typed, “Nobody here loves you.”
‘Someone does.’
Reading
aloud as I typed, I wrote, “The MacNabs detest you.” Then, for good measure, I added, “So do I.”
‘
The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart. But
do
all the MacNabs hate me? Why don’t you ask them?’
“
This is just a bluff.”
‘I
t’s not. You can’t get rid of me. Not till I’m released. Do you think I
want
to hang around this ghastly dump, watching the men I adored flirt with other women? Do you realise just how bloody boring it is waiting in some sort of spiritual ante-chamber? Hell would be livelier, I’m sure, and teeming with fascinating people. I’d be bound to bump into old friends. And lovers! But my punishment for a colourful life appears to be a sentence of perpetual boredom. As if I hadn’t already suffered enough in that department! But I’m tethered to this hideous half-life until Sholto lets me go.’
As
I looked up, Alec’s head turned towards his father. Sholto snorted, then narrowed his eyes and nodded at the laptop. ‘Read on, Jenny.’
‘She’s stopped.’
‘Pausing for effect, I suppose.’ He shook his head. ‘Ask what the deluded creature means.’
I typed,
“You think Sholto still loves you?”
‘Of course. Who else could it be?’
When I read out this exchange, Sholto exclaimed, ‘It’s simply not true!’
Zelda fixed him with a look
. ‘Are you sure? You were infatuated with her for years.’
‘A
bsolutely certain. It’s true I’ve sensed her presence here from time to time and I’ve wondered… But it’s certainly not
me
keeping her here, I assure you. I’m rather ashamed to admit I didn’t even love Meredith when I married her. I only proposed to her after— well, after another woman turned me down. Someone who would have made a much better stepmother for the boys. Meredith was a last resort, frankly.’
T
he candles flickered and a downdraught of wind in the chimney blew a puff of smoke into the room. At the same time, words began to appear on the screen at tremendous speed. I looked at them, then averted my eyes. ‘I’m not going to read this out. It’s just foul-mouthed abuse of Sholto.’
Sholto’s laugh
ter was mirthless. ‘Oh, yes, Meredith she could swear like a trooper! But you don’t have to protect me, Jenny. My capacity to wound her ego is greater than her power to hurt mine. I ignored her and that she couldn’t forgive. Or forget. She’d rather be hated than ignored, you see. Meredith was an inveterate show-off – just an overgrown child in many ways. She wanted to be loved and admired by
everyone
, even people she despised. There was a sort of desperation about her. She’d do anything to get attention, or steal someone else’s limelight. Like getting blind drunk on Alec’s wedding day. Dear God, that was a dreadful business… The random horror of it… I had to identify her by her jewellery. There was no face left to speak of. I remember thinking then that whatever bad things she’d done – and there had been a few – the poor woman had paid for them. Of course, I didn’t know then that she was responsible for Liz’s accident.’ Sholto’s voice faltered and he passed a hand across his eyes. ‘Which puts a rather different complexion on things, doesn’t it? But after Meredith’s death, all I felt was vague feelings of guilt. And pity. Because you wouldn’t want your worst enemy to die like that.’
Sholto
fell silent and fidgeted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable discussing his private life in front of family members and a minister, but he struggled on gamely. ‘Perhaps I did love her once, before we were married… But what do
I
know about love? How did I manage to go off to the ends of the earth, leaving behind a wife – whom I
did
love – and two young sons, knowing there was a good chance I might not return? You know, there was never a word of recrimination from Liz. She said she knew what she was taking on when she married me. But I did wonder if I was just plain selfish. More in love with exploration and danger than with my family.’
‘Liz said, if you
gave up travelling, you’d shrivel up and die,’ Zelda said, matter-of-fact. ‘And she was right. You were an apology for a human being between expeditions – you know you were – until you started planning the next trip. Then you came alive again. Adventure’s in your blood. Liz knew it. So did the boys.’
‘When you
got to the South Pole,’ Alec said, without looking at his father, ‘I was so proud of you, I thought I’d burst.’
Sholto
turned and stared at him, speechless, then Fergus spoke up. ‘You know those stupid “My dad’s bigger than your dad” arguments kids have? I used to say, “Aye, well,
my
Dad’s climbed Everest.
And
K2.” ’ He grinned and folded his arms. ‘That used to shut them up.’
‘
MacNabs like to be busy!’ Zelda said. ‘We have to be
doing
. I’m sure if we all set our minds to it, we could turn this old place round in no time. We’re none of us afraid of hard work. Time was, we weren’t afraid of
anything
. That’s why Meredith didn’t fit in.’
‘Because
despite all her amoral bravado,’ Alec said softly, ‘she was a coward.’
‘Aye, she was.’
‘What was she afraid of, Zelda?’ I asked. ‘Is there something we can use against her?’
Zelda threw her head back and laughed.
‘Och, what was Meredith
not
afraid of?... Ageing. Losing her voice. Losing her looks. Poverty. Sleeping alone. Having no friends. Having powerful enemies. She feared other singers’ youth and talent. She even suffered from stage fright! That lassie lived in fear – fear of being ignored and fear of being forgotten. Relegated to a musical footnote. A
short
one,’ Zelda added. ‘I told her, if you live in fear, you fear to live. And I know about that. I left a husband I loved rather than live with fear – may his alcoholic soul rest in peace,’ she added, with a sidelong look at Rupert, who said nothing but continued to listen intently, turning his head from one speaker to the next, like a spectator at Wimbledon.
‘Meredith didn’t
live’, Sholto said. ‘She kept busy. She had a lot of lovers, but I don’t think she ever fell in love. She travelled the world, but what did she see? The inside of dressing rooms, beauty salons and hotel bars. I once offered to take her to the Arctic, just for the experience. Do you know what she said? “But what would I
do
there?” I said, “
Be!”
She said she didn’t know what that meant. And she didn’t. Meredith didn’t know how to be. She was always playing a part. The diva. The
femme fatale
. The laird’s lady… Who was she underneath all that rôle-playing? I never knew. She was a good actress, you see, on stage and off. But was there a real face behind the mask?’ Sholto paused for a moment, then sounding mystified, said, ‘I was married to the woman for eighteen years, but I’m damned if I can remember now what her face actually looked like.’
Words began
to appear on the screen again. As soon as I saw Alec’s name, I looked away, filled with dread. ‘She’s started up again. But, I’m sorry, I don’t think I can—’
‘What is
it?’ Alec said sharply. ‘Something about me?’ He got up and came and stood behind my chair, reading over my shoulder. Then he crouched down beside me and said, ‘You don’t believe her, do you?
‘I don’t want to, but… she said
someone
is keeping her here.’
Sholto tapped
the table impatiently. ‘Alec, kindly tell us what Meredith has written.’
‘She says, “So it’s Alec. Well, what a surprise! I’d always assumed it was dear old Sholto.” Jenny, you surely cannot believe I feel anything for that ghoul other than hatred.’
Meredith started to write again and Alec and I read together.
I suppose he told you he turned me down. It’s true he put up a token show of resistance, but that was a
ll part of the game. He lied to you, Jenny. And Sholto. Alec was indeed my lover. On many pleasurable occasions.
‘It isn’t true!’ Alec grabbed my hand.
‘You have to believe me!’
‘Alexander, will you please
read what it says on the screen? That’s an order,’ Sholto barked.
‘Shall I?’ Rupert asked gently, reaching across to take the laptop. As he read out Meredith’s vile accusation, I felt close to tears, tears of exhaustion and despair. I gazed round the room
and saw the MacNabs in disarray: Sholto and Alec, standing now, were shouting at each other. Zelda was also on her feet, leaning across the table in an attempt to remonstrate with them. Fergus sat in miserable silence, his head in his hands.
Rupert slid the laptop
back over to me and, in the din, I didn’t catch what he said, but I looked at the screen and read,
This is the most fun I’ve had in years. See how I can make the MacNabs dance to my tune?
I
slapped the laptop shut, leaped to my feet and yelled, ‘Stop it! Stop it, all of you! This is what Meredith wants.
She’s
doing this, can’t you see? She’s sowing doubts. Setting us against each other.’
The lights flickered, then came back on again.
Four blank MacNab faces stared at me, blinking. Fergus was the first to recover. ‘She’s right. Sit down, folks,’ he said, producing his phone. ‘I’m going to read you a text message.’
‘
What?
In heaven’s name, Ferg—’ Sholto thundered.
‘Bear with me, Dad.’ As the others sat, Fergus got to his feet, clutching his phone.
‘I’ve some news I want to share with you. I didn’t think today was the right time and I really wanted Rachel to be with me when I told you.’
‘Rachel?
’ Sholto looked vague.
‘My girlfriend, Dad. I proposed recently, but she turned me down. Because of the curse.’
Sholto was clearly about to embark on an apoplectic rant, but Fergus raised his hand. ‘Keep your hair on, Dad. Circumstances have changed and I think now
is
the right time to tell you. And Rachel,’ he said, raising his phone, ‘has given me permission.’ He looked down at the screen and read, ‘
Yes. You can tell them. Only hope they’re pleased. It’s due 24
th
May.
’ He looked up, cleared his throat and said,
‘She’s referring to our baby.’ Zelda squealed and Fergus shot her an anxious look, followed by an enormous grin. ‘Aye, Rachel’s pregnant. But we’re not going to marry. We’re just going to live together. We don’t need marriage, but we do want a family. So that’s how we’re going to beat the MacNab curse. Rachel will never be a MacNab. As for bloody Meredith – she’ll not take any more away from me. She took my mother and my sister-in-law. That’s enough! No damn ghost – or curse – is going to stop Rachel and me being happy. Och, what’s the worst that fiend can do? Make us live in fear? Well, just let her try!’