The Atlantis Keystone (6 page)

Emma found this extremely interesting. She herself had not previously studied runes and was intrigued by the prospect of viewing a script which had been in frequent use in Scandinavia a millennium ago. She could immediately see that it was influenced by the Latin alphabet, at least partly.

Whilst Emma had been fascinated by the stone and had been satisfied after a ten minute look, Paul had been transfixed. Just as Paul fetched his pocket PC from his jeans pocket and started to make notes, Erik’s mobile phone rang again. It sounded almost outlandish in the tranquil surroundings but Paul didn’t even raise an eyebrow. He continued to study the text.

“I’m sorry, I have to go back to the house”, Erik said as he put his phone back in his pocket. “That was work. I need to go to Gothenburg now unfortunately. I will return this evening. Will you find your way to the house?”

“Sure”, Paul said without taking his eyes or his finger off the runes. Emma felt fairly confident as well. They had followed the same path most of the way.

It was strange to suddenly be alone with Paul, Emma thought. She never knew exactly how to behave around him. They had exchanged many encouraging looks of something resembling admiration but he had never given her any reason to think that he had any feelings for her. At this time, he didn’t even seem to notice that she was there, being so engulfed in copying down various runes. Viking runes were something she had never looked at previously and she had no intention of starting now. She thought to herself that she may have a selective mindset but she just didn’t feel that these runes were ancient enough; and they had already been deciphered. What would be the point of looking at them now?

“I’m sorry”, Paul said after almost half an hour in which Emma had gone to the stream and come back twice. “I just can’t help myself when it comes to scripts. They have this awesome power over me.” Whilst studying the stone he had taken off his glasses and he was still not wearing them when he stood up and turned to look in the direction of where Emma was standing. Having spent more time in the sun than he would normally do, he looked uncharacteristically tanned and he seemed transformed without his glasses. His black shirt and dark wild hair made him look almost attractive. She wasn’t sure what her facial expression had told him and if he could even see her but he took two steps towards her, hesitated and then slowly took her head between his hands and kissed her gently. Her body met his for a brief moment and she felt a wave of excitement running through her as his hand touched her bare leg. She was so surprised by her own reaction that she pulled away almost immediately. He was a good kisser; she had never expected it. He took her abrupt retraction the wrong way.

“I’m so sorry”, he said as he stepped away from her. “I didn’t mean to offend you in any way. I know it’s against university regulations for me to have a relationship with a student.” He started to walk back in the direction they had come from. Emma rushed after him.

“No need to apologise Paul. I wanted it too.” He stopped and turned around. She took the initiative to kiss him this time and he was the one who reluctantly pulled away. “No, it’s wrong of me to do this to you”, he said. “We don’t want to raise any eyebrows unnecessarily. It wouldn’t be helpful for either of our careers.” Emma felt a sting of disappointment. There was nothing she could say. He was right. Their respective careers were more important than this; whatever ‘this’ was.

They started to walk back to the house. After less than a ten minute walk Paul stopped again, looking straight at her. “By the way, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He said it in a light hearted manner, making a special effort to sound breezy. They sat down on two nearby rocks on Paul’s request. Emma’s heart was pounding hard. She hoped that Paul didn’t notice it. “I was just wondering whether you would want to accompany me and two other students to Crete on a research trip in January.” She didn’t know what she had expected but this came as a complete surprise. Paul quickly continued: “It would be very helpful for your dissertation and you would have an opportunity to study some of the Linear A finds. My colleague over there says they have a whole load of items which urgently need the attention of someone who knows Linear B values. I immediately thought of you.”

Emma accepted the offer without hesitation. “Sounds great! Of course I’ll join you!” She reasoned that this would not only allow her to work with real life Linear A remains, it would also enable her to view the actual broken Torpa tablet. So far, she had only seen pictures of the half tablet. It had been transferred to Heraklion museum in the 1970s, more than a century after the initial transfer from Sweden to London. She refused to accept that spending more time with Paul was an aspect of the trip which made her shiver with anticipation. The expedition was now less than six months away and she thought to herself that a lot could happen in that time.

They managed to find their way back to Torpa without any incidents. Paul had immediately resumed his normal cool response towards her but the kiss was clearly at the forefront of his mind; and hers. She had never felt this way before. She was twenty three but still a virgin. In fact, sadly this had been her first proper kiss. She once again reflected over her lonely existence and her approach to life to date, devoid of any significant relationships other than with her books. It had been a lovely day and maybe they had both been overtaken by the romantic surroundings, the news about the tablet and the rune-stone. In any event, she felt some level of triumph that her reluctant feelings for Paul were not completely unanswered. And his reaction to pull back must mean that he genuinely valued her intellect, she thought to herself.

As soon as they entered the house, Erik’s mother came towards them, wearing red high heels and a white trouser suit, smiling widely and smelling strongly of perfume, her blond hair tied back in a knot. She was still a good looking woman. Life had been kind to her, it seemed.

“There you are, you two! What do you say about a nice three course dinner here tonight to celebrate that permission has been given to use cameras inside the wall?” she said looking only at Paul. When she finally turned to look at Emma it was with an obvious dislike of Emma’s fashion sense. Her facial expression seemed to ask: ‘What were you thinking?’ God knows why she would care about appearances out there, Emma thought.

“Sounds lovely to me”, Paul said and Emma nodded in agreement.

“Let’s hope Erik is back for seven.”

▪ ▪ ▪

As it turned out, Erik arrived just as they were about to start eating. As he came in the room, Emma was amazed by the fact that they had already had two whole bottles of wine between them. She was starting to feel the effects, not used to drinking this much alcohol. They were all sitting down at the four meter long table in the grandiose dining room conversing. Erik took a seat at the end of the table, with his father and mother on either side. Emma was sitting next to his father and Paul next to his mother. Emma had no doubt that Erik’s mother was an experienced hostess and had carefully arranged their seating and the menu for the evening. She had already informed them that they could expect a genuine Swedish ensemble. According to Erik’s father the main course dish was their house keeper’s specialty and the only reason to why he agreed to stay in the house once in a while. Even so, Emma was feeling apprehensive about that one. Although Erik’s father was perfectly charming to sit next to, Emma was uncomfortable by what was going on at the other side of the table. Erik’s mother appeared to be almost flirting with Paul. Emma found this highly inappropriate, not only because her husband was sitting opposite her but also because Paul was merely a few years older than her son. She decided to ignore her manners towards Paul, concluding that this might be the way she normally approached people.

Emma had made a special effort that evening to look smart, not wanting to repeat the earlier degrading stare from Erik’s mother. She was wearing a light blue summery dress, accentuating her figure, which she had got from a university friend who had wanted to get rid of it after having lost too much weight, together with a matching necklace she had bought in Camden market. Having brought the dress not expecting to wear it during her brief stay in Sweden, she was now glad she had. Not only did it seem to satisfy Erik’s mother, it had also attracted some approving glances from Paul. She felt herself almost blushing every time he looked her way. She couldn’t help thinking about their earlier kiss. This had to stop, she thought. She tried to focus on Erik and his father. She had to admit that she had a good time. They were both funny in a laid back sort of way, making her laugh repeatedly. This was somewhat at odds with her character; normally when she was out she would get stuck in a corner with some nerd talking politics. Her university friends had even remarked how boring she was and that she should let herself go more, have a drink and ‘stop being so uptight’. She had been insulted at the time but now she knew they were right.

Their topic of conversation turned to superstition. Emma shared with them that Britt-Marie had almost panicked when Emma had put the back door key on the kitchen table earlier that day.

“Yes, I would never put keys on the table, that’s for sure”, Erik’s father said. “But there are some stupid superstitions out there. The worst one I have heard was a man who refused to leave his house without wearing a specific hat. The funny thing was that the hat was actually more of a woman’s hat, with flowers and all. But even so, he refused to leave the house without it… I suppose that may have been more craziness than superstition” he added as an afterthought. “No actually I’m sure it was mainly superstition, he seemed like a normal guy…except for the hat.” They all laughed.

“Dad, you make it sound like this place is full of mad people. That’s not true, although I suppose there is the odd exception, like in any other place in the world”. Erik seemed genuinely concerned not to give Emma the impression that Sweden was full of weird people.

Emma chuckled: “Well, you should see Covent Garden at weekends, no actually every night. It’s crammed full of eccentrics, showing off their strange skills.

Except for the fact that Mrs Stenbock had occupied Paul all evening, Emma had a lovely time. The food was excellent and the company outstanding. She thanked everyone before going upstairs to bed. She was surprised to see that it was nearly midnight. As she walked up the stairs she felt dizzy. She had had too much wine. She could hear footsteps behind her. It was Paul rushing to catch up with her. At the top of the stairs he grabbed her shoulder and turned her around, carefully pushing her a bit further away from the stairs. She could see in his eyes that he too had had a lot to drink and that he was probably not feeling his normal self.

“I’m sorry for having ignored you all evening”, he said with a strange slurry voice which she didn’t recognise. “I knew that if I had kept looking at you in your pretty blue dress, I wouldn’t have been able to contain myself. As you know, I also had to do my duty and entertain Mrs Stenbock”.

“But you are looking at me now”, Emma said as she moved towards him. Paul thrust his body against hers and kissed her much more deeply than he had earlier that day in the woods. After only a brief moment, Emma heard someone coming up the stairs and this brought her out of the daze. She gently pushed Paul away and started to walk in the direction of her room. He seemed a bit surprised and disappointed at first but when he saw Mrs Stenbock coming up the stairs he looked at Emma and winked. Not sure what he had meant by the wink, Emma went into her bedroom and locked the door. She wondered whether he would knock on the door later. Part of her almost hoped that he would but her sensible portion knew that him staying away would be preferable. Why complicate things unnecessarily.

After half an hour she realised he wasn’t going to come. This was probably a good thing as lying on the bed she felt light headed. At one point she was almost afraid she would be sick. She walked over to the window and opened it to get some fresh air. Although the sun had gone down fully, it still left a smidgen of light. Her bedroom window on the second floor was on the side of old Torpa. In her precarious state she noted that the enormous old white stone building looked majestic in the pale light of the moon, still mirrored in the dark lake behind it. It came across almost magical with its grand entrance but also a bit frightening with three or four floors of rows of dark windows, potentially hiding something within its walls. As Emma stood there looking out over the eerie courtyard and old walls she noticed the moat which circled the building. She followed it around with her eyes until her heart froze and she stopped breathing.

In the corner of her eye she had seen something. She wasn’t sure whether it was the moonlight reflecting in one of the windows or an actual light inside one of the rooms of the deserted house. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. No, the light was still there. She figured it could have been her eyes playing tricks on her. The wine might have made her start hallucinating. She decided it must be the latter. She looked again. The light was still there but she noticed with alarm that there was something else. Someone was standing in the lit up window. In the split second she had seen it she noticed it was a white apparition. The shock was overwhelming and fear gripped her. She had to walk away from the window and quickly close the curtain. Whatever it was had moved in the wind by the window. If she had to describe it she would have said it was a person, utterly ghostlike. This could not be, she thought. Her imagination and the impact of the wine clearly had a bad influence on her sanity.

As she went back into bed she was still significantly shaken and frightened but more than anything she was ashamed that she had let herself drink so much wine to become this freak which right at that moment was hiding underneath the covers of her bed, wishing that any ghosts lurking around would go away.