‘
Och, I dare say I’ll learn to live with your wealth. Given time,’ he added with mock solemnity.
‘
Blame Imogen Ryan. She wrote a pile of bestsellers. They sold all over the world and some were made into films. Then there were the DVDs, another lucrative sideline. My parents had already left me well provided for and I inherited a large house in a desirable part of London. Unlike you and Fergus, I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. And that,’ I said, turning to my future father-in-law, ‘was one of the things my mother collected. Silver. She had a passion for it and left her collection to me. I think it will look very well at Cauldstane. So
please
, Sholto, do allow me to help. It would make me so very happy.’
‘Who am I,’ said Sho
lto, ‘to deprive this young woman of her happiness? Welcome to our family, Jenny – and a special welcome to your money!’
Rupert called out from the
open window, ‘The new day’s dawning… Come and look.’
I went to Rupert’s side and stood shivering as the
dark sky, heavy with cloud, turned pink, lavender and duck egg blue. From the top of the castle we could see for miles, but everything was blanketed with snow. I breathed in the sharp, cold air and felt profoundly grateful for the new day, for the snow, for the improbable sky.
Rupert closed
the window, rubbed his hands together and said, ‘To work!’ He walked back to the fireplace and stood facing into the room. ‘I’m going to begin the blessing of Cauldstane outside, then we’ll move indoors, passing through all the rooms, one by one, sprinkling holy water and saying prayers. In each room I’d like to open all the windows and we’ll leave all the doors open. This serves two purposes: it lets the light in and any unwanted spirits out. But on a day like today, it will be a chilly job, so I suggest you all wrap up very warm. I’ve brought my own equipment,’ Rupert continued. ‘But if you have a container you’d like to use – something that has a special meaning for the MacNabs – I’ll use that for the holy water. I’d like to use a twig or small branch from the castle grounds to sprinkle the water. I noticed some shrubs in the courtyard. Perhaps we could take something from one of those? Alec, can I leave you to supply these things?’
‘Gladly. I’d like to use a twig from our old rowan tree.’
‘Just the job! Shall we assemble in, say, fifteen minutes? Let’s meet in the kitchen and fill our water container there. Any questions?... Very well, I’ll see you all in the kitchen in quarter of an hour.’
Sholto hobbled over to the door, then paused. He turned back and said, ‘God bless you, Ru
pert. You can have no idea what all this means to me. To the MacNabs.’
‘And I doubt you have any idea, Mr MacNab, how happy it makes me to be able to serve
you all in this way. Thank you for giving me the opportunity.’ Then Rupert went to Sholto, offered him his arm and escorted him from the room.
Alec and I were the last to leave
. When we got to the door, he laid a hand on my arm and said in a low voice, ‘Do you believe in all this, Jenny?’
‘No, not really.’
‘But you still think it will work?’
‘Yes, I do.
What was it the man said to Christ, before he performed the miracle?...
Lord I believe. Help thou mine unbelief.
My unbelief isn’t going to stop this working, Alec. Nor is yours. Come on, we have a castle to bless…’
CHAPTER THIRTY
-TWO
In the next fifteen minutes Fergus found and washed a pewter porringer, a two-handled bowl from which broth or porridge could be eaten. It had been given to Sholto and Liz as a wedding present and was engraved with their initials. Rupert said it would be an ideal vessel for the holy water.
Alec cleared snow in the courtyard so there was an area for us to stand in
and a path to the armoury. He also gathered a few small rowan twigs and bound them together with a thin strip of leather. This improvised tool looked something like a pastry brush, but Rupert seemed perfectly satisfied with it.
Wilma cleared the kitchen table and covered it with a fresh linen cloth and a table runner of MacNab tartan. Zelda brought a bowl of white chrysanthemums from the dining room and placed them in the centre.
And so we gathered in the kitchen at the appointed time, wearing coats and scarves and carrying our hats and gloves. We stood round the table and watched as Rupert filled the porringer with tap water. (I must confess I was surprised. I’d expected him to bring something special. A bottle of Evian at least.) He set the porringer down on the table, then bowed his head. After a moment’s silence, he began to pray.
‘I
come to bless this home and pray that the presence of God may be known and felt in it, that all that is evil and unclean may be driven far from it. Creator God, as you breathed your Spirit over the waters in the darkness, now sanctify this water that it may signify to us the cleansing power of your Holy Spirit, which we ask you to pour forth for this home. Grant this we pray, in the name of your only son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.’
Then
Rupert put on his coat and his green bird-watching hat. He led the way out of the kitchen, holding the porringer in both hands, with the home-made water sprinkler sitting in the vessel. The sun wasn’t high enough yet to have penetrated the courtyard and it still seemed cold and gloomy. We gathered round without speaking and when we were all still, Rupert said, ‘Peace be to this house and all who dwell in it. Lord, you gave to your Church authority to act in your Name. We ask you therefore to visit today what we visit, and to bless whatever we bless; and grant that as we enter this house in lowliness of heart, all powers of evil may be put to flight and your spirit of peace may enter in.’ He then approached the back door and, sprinkling water on the threshold, said, ‘Defend from harm all who enter and leave by this door, and give your protection to the members of this household in their going out and their coming in; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.’
Before entering the castle, we went over to the armoury where Rupert said another prayer and sprinkled water in the doorway, then inside, he sprinkled more in the four corners of the workshop. He asked Alec to open the grimy window
, then we moved on, leaving the door and window open behind us.
T
he kitchen was next. There was a collective but discreet sigh of relief as we basked once again in the warmth of the Aga. Rupert removed his hat, then, to Wilma’s obvious delight, said a special prayer for the kitchen: ‘Grant, Lord, to all who shall work in this room that in serving others they may serve you and that in the busyness of the kitchen, they may know your tranquillity; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.’
Thus w
e processed through the castle in silence, apart from prayers and instructions to open windows, some of which proved intractable. Many hadn’t been opened in years and Alec had to use the blade of his
sgian dubh
to force some of them open.
There were special prayers for the library, the dining room and the drawing room and the same prayer was said in each of the bedrooms. Rupert didn’t turn a hair when he saw all the swords in A
lec’s room, but he sprinkled water generously in those corners and at the window, saying, ‘Bless the bedrooms of this house and guard with your continual watchfulness all who take rest within these walls, that refreshed by the gift of sleep they may wake to serve you joyfully in their daily work; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.’
Alec took down the sword propped against the window
, sheathed it in its scabbard, then threw open the window. We heard the sound of the river, now in full spate, augmented by melting snow. I suffered a sudden shivering fit, unrelated to the temperature in the room.
It was hard to tell if
Meredith responded. With doors and windows open all over the building, there were odd bangs and rattles. Cold spots were of course quite undetectable. I thought we might encounter trouble in the music room, but when we got there, I saw that someone – Wilma, I imagine – had covered the harpsichord with a thick blanket, perhaps to protect it from the elements. Rupert said a short prayer, we opened the windows and moved on.
Whether by accident or Rupert’s design, we came to Meredith’s old bedroom last. By the time we got to the top floor, Sholto look
ed very tired. No one had had much more than a nap before the gathering in the Great Hall and only Alec and Rupert looked alert. I don’t suppose I was the only one distracted by thoughts of a big pot of tea and a restorative bowl of porridge eaten beside the Aga.
Be
fore entering Meredith’s room, Rupert turned to us and said, ‘I understand this was Meredith MacNab’s bedroom. I will repeat the bedroom prayer in here, but I will also say a prayer for the repose of her unquiet spirit, asking her to depart. Could I ask you all to look into your hearts and try, if you will, to let go of anger and any other negative emotions. I realise that will be very hard, but try to bear in mind that we are dealing here with a human soul which needs salvation. Our object is to direct this soul away from her obsession with earthly matters and into the mercy and peace of Christ. We want to replace her present existence of unrest and disquiet with rest in eternity and light perpetual. Now, in a moment we shall enter the room. We’ve met with no trouble so far, but it’s possible we might be challenged in here. Do remain outside, if you prefer, but if you wish to enter, can I recommend the Lord’s Prayer? That will stand you in good stead.’
Rupert turned to face the bedroom door
, took a moment to gather himself, then nodded to Alec who opened the door. The room was dark and Alec reached inside to switch on the light. The crystal chandelier lit up a room that was exactly as I’d left it. The cardboard boxes containing Meredith’s journals sat in front of the bookcase. The heavy velvet curtains were still drawn and this time I noticed the sickly smell Alec had mentioned. (“Like something’s rotting.”) Was this really just Meredith’s stale perfume?
A
s we filed in, the many mirrors reflected the presence of a congregation, not a family. A wardrobe door swung open and would have hit Sholto had Wilma not pulled him out of the way. There followed a faint tinny rattle which I identified as the coat-hangers jiggling inside the wardrobe. Wilma must have heard it too because her mouth started to move. You didn’t need to be a lip-reader to know she was reciting the Lord’s Prayer.
Rupert said the bedroom prayer
, then a specific prayer for Meredith. ‘Go forth from this world, Meredith, to that place appointed you by God; in the name of the Father who created you, in the name of Jesus Christ who died for you and in the name of the Holy Spirit who gives life to the people of God. May the light of God go with you as you journey from this world and may you rest in peace.’ That was followed by a heartfelt
Amen
from us, then Rupert turned to face the photographic portrait of Meredith which hung above the bed. As he sprinkled water onto the bed, the picture began to swing, then the hook appeared to come loose so that the picture fell forward. Wilma cried out as it fell, but it landed quite safely, face down on the gold satin bedspread.
Unperturbed, Rupert walked to
a corner of the room, sprinkled water and said, ‘May the light of God go with you as you journey from this world and may you rest in peace.’
As he left the first
corner, there was a tearing sound. He didn’t look back but prayed continuously for the repose of Meredith’s spirit. The cause of the sound soon became apparent. Where the portrait had hung, the stained red damask covering the wall was peeling away, starting at the ceiling and rolling downwards until the fabric hung from the wall like a parched tongue.
Alec put a protective arm round me, Sholto held Wilma and Fergus held his aunt
, who’d buried her face in his coat, overcome by the spectacle, as one after another, strips of fabric crept down the walls. Rupert proceeded from one corner to another, then, after he’d sprinkled water in the final corner, he said, ‘Alec. Fergus. The curtains, if you please. Open them, then open all the windows.’
Alec strode to the nearest window and yanked at a curtain. It fell down, bringing the
brass rail with it, enveloping him in a thick cloud of plaster dust and burying his feet in a heap of burgundy velvet, but he laughed in triumph as daylight entered the room at last. He stepped over the fallen curtain and pulled hard at the next, which came down just as easily. Then he climbed onto the window seat, kicked Meredith’s photographs and ornaments aside and pushed open the window. We were at the top of the castle where air currents were strong and a gust of freezing air swept round the room, ruffling the strips of fabric so they danced wildly, like flames.
Alec
was already at the next window and Fergus at the last. They pulled down the remaining curtains and tossed them onto the bed. The room was thick with dust now and loud with coughs and sneezes. All three windows were open and the wind swept round the room, knocking over photo frames and launching old theatre programmes into the air. There was a loud bang as the folding screen went over, then another as the dummy clothed in Meredith’s silk kimono toppled. The wind caught her paper parasol, lifted it into the air and hurled it against the wall, shattering its ribs.
Above the wind
and the now audible recitation of the Lord’s Prayer from Wilma, I heard Rupert’s firm, even voice praying steadily: ‘Be gone from this place, every evil haunting and phantasm. In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit: we order you to leave this place, harming no one. Go to the place appointed you and may you rest in peace. Amen.’
The wind subsided
gradually and sunlight filled the room, gilding the tawdry wreckage. We stood holding on to one another, braced for more, but nothing happened. The pages of one of Meredith’s journals flapped and her kimono slithered across the floor, but it was just the wind.
‘For our final prayers,’ Rupert announced,
‘I’d like to return to the Great Hall. Would you all please follow me?’
We trooped downstairs to the Hall, where the fire still burned but all the candles h
ad blown out. We huddled round the fire, but Rupert took up a position in front of an open window and said, ‘Lord God, bless, hallow and sanctify this house that in it there may be joy and gladness, peace and love, health and goodness, and thanksgiving always to you, Father, Son and Holy Spirit; let your blessing rest upon this house and those who dwell in it, now and for ever. Amen.’
We all joined in heartily with “Amen”. Rupert remained at the window
but turned round and looked out. After a moment he said, ‘What an absolutely
glorious
day. St Andrew’s Day too! Do come and look.’
We gathered in front of
the open windows and looked out across the snowy Cauldstane estate, dazzling now in the sunshine.
‘It all looks so
clean
, doesn’t it?’ said Wilma. ‘Clean and new.’
‘It’s a new day, Wilma,’ said Sholto, his voice unsteady. ‘A new era
…’
Rupert continued to scan the sky, then pointed and said,
‘Good gracious, I do believe that’s a red kite up there!’
‘It is,’ said Alec. ‘There’s a pair of them. They’re often to be s
een over Cauldstane. We think of them as a good omen.’
I looked up at him. ‘I saw one when I came for my interview.’
‘See what I mean?’ He put an arm round me, pulled me to him and I rested my head on his chest, exhausted and relieved.
L
ooking up at the sky, I watched the red kite glide lazily. ‘You see, Rupert? I told you you’d get some bird watching in on this trip.’
The bird
hovered, impossibly still above Cauldstane, then it flicked its forked tail, swooped and was gone.
~~~~~