The Macbeth Prophecy (27 page)

The world was still a bleak place the next morning, and it was raining again. Jason lay on his bed listening to it drumming on the roof. Pity it hadn't started last night, and soaked the lot of them! What were they
doing,
raising their hands in that age-old gesture of acclamation? Recharging the stones to fend off any further intrusion? No doubt it was conscience that had obliged Madeleine to help him when she found him lying there.

He swung his feet to the floor and on his way through to the kitchen pulled the morning paper out of the letter-box, glancing at the dateline. Friday 25th July. Nearly the weekend again. At least this Saturday he shouldn't be obliged to attend any social.

Memory flooded him, mercilessly detailed: the cool flesh of her upper arm, the sweep of lashes as she rested with closed eyes, the softness of her mouth. He leaned heavily on the table, head lowered, waiting for the spasm to pass. He was behaving like a sixteen-year-old, he told himself disgustedly. How it would gratify the Selbys to see him now, and all those others over the years who had resented his command of himself. In retrospect, it was the loss of control which disturbed him most. Even in the early days with Tania he had remained mentally detached from physical involvement. It was the combination of emotional and physical longing he'd experienced with Madeleine which had proved so lethal.

He straightened, sluiced his face under the cold tap, and mechanically set about preparing his breakfast. He had never felt more alone in his life.

Somehow the day passed. He typed several pages, tore them up and typed more. Dialogue was clogged and unnatural, his characters refused to come alive. At five-thirty he consigned them all to hell and went to pour himself a drink. And it was then that the frantic knocking sounded on his door. As he opened it, Madeleine pushed past him into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind her and bolting it top and bottom before running to the sitting-room, where she pulled the window shut, secured it and drew the curtains. Jason stood in the doorway, watching her with growing amazement. If this was an act, it was a damn good one.

“Are we about to be attacked?” he asked mildly.

She turned, started to speak, shook her head helplessly and put her hands to her face. Slowly he went to her and put his arms round her. Though she made no sound, he knew from the shuddering of her body that she was weeping and steeled himself to withhold all but the most basic response to her distress. After a moment or two she moved away, drying her tears with her hands like a child.

“Sorry.”

Silently he held out a clean handkerchief and she blew her nose. He was still standing in the middle of the room and she looked up apprehensively.

“You did tell me to come, if –” She bit her lip, still far from composed. He did not trust himself to go to her again. He said evenly, “You'd better sit down and tell me what's happened.”

“It's Matthew,” she said. “Oh God, Jason, I think he's mad!”

He stared at her for a moment, then sat next to her on the sofa under the long, prematurely curtained window.

She swivelled round to face him. “Apart from school, I haven't seen him for nearly two weeks.” She didn't notice his movement of protest. “When I came in this afternoon there was a parcel for him, from home. Deidre was at her dancing class and Aunt Alice doesn't like those stairs. Her balance isn't too good, which is why I have to bring your supper.”

He said drily, “And I thought it was my irresistible charm!”

She gave an automatic, absent-minded little smile. “I hadn't been up to the flat for weeks. Philip wasn't there but Matthew'd just got in, as I had. He insisted I stayed for a cup of tea. I didn't want to, but I couldn't think of an excuse. I was drinking it as quickly as I could, when –” She caught her lip between her teeth.

“Go on.”

“The television crackled suddenly – atmospherics, I suppose. The effect on Matthew was incredible. He rose slowly to his feet and stood looking at the thing as though it was about to explode. He didn't seem to hear me when I asked what was wrong. Then he – he – oh God!” She reached out blindly for his hand.

“Jason, he said I mustn't be frightened by anything I'd seen or heard, because it wouldn't hurt me, and he'd help me to forget the message because it was better that I shouldn't –”

“Message?” Jason cut in sharply.

“Yes. He seemed to think there'd been some announcement on the television. He wouldn't believe me when I said I hadn't heard anything. He took my hands and held them tightly and said everything would be all right because – because he was immortal –” She choked to a halt.

Jason sat unmoving and after a moment she shuddered back to control.

“He said he and Philip were the twin bear gods Matunus and Artio, and they were going to reclaim their kingdom!
Jason, he really believed it!
”

Without warning she flung herself across his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Half of his mind incredulously recorded her words; the other, more urgent half had other problems. Gently he began to stroke her hair and as her sobs lessened he said carefully, “I could make a better job of this without that damned elastic band. Why do you wear it? My wife says they tear the hair.”

She said in a muffled voice, “Do you have to talk about your wife?”

“I'm sorry, it was hardly appropriate, especially since she won't be my wife for much longer.”

She made no movement as his fingers clumsily freed her hair from the tight elastic. Released, it was like a live thing, rippling and shining in his hands.

“Madeleine –” His voice shook slightly and he started again. “I have to know the truth. You said you hadn't seen Matthew for nearly two weeks.”

“That's right, since we were all at the Crow's Nest.”

He said very quietly, “What about last night?”

She sat up, shaking her hair back. “Last night?”

God help him, he couldn't doubt her when she looked at him like that. He forced himself to say, “At the Circle?”

Fear flashed across her face and he knew that momentarily she was doubting his own sanity. He took her hands.

“I saw you up there, with Philip and Matthew.

She was gazing at him, completely uncomprehending.

“And the Marshalls and the Hardacres and all the rest of those God-damned twins and their friends and relations.”

She said in a whisper, “I don't know what you're talking about.”

He believed her. Relief flooded through him, mixed with more concentrated alarm than before. “You don't remember?”

“Jason, I didn't go. Really. I went to bed early.”

“Darling, I
saw
you. You might not have known you were there, but believe me you were. You must have been – conditioned in some way, and the others with you – Geoff and Felicity and Braithwaite. God in heaven, if they have sufficient power for that we'll have to move fast.”

She said on a high note, “I'm frightened. Please hold me.”

His arms came tightly around her. She could hear his heart thundering under her cheek but her fears were too strident to allow her to dwell on his closeness. “What happened?” she asked fearfully. “Up at the Circle?”

“I couldn't see very clearly. You all formed a ring round two or three of the stones and raised your hands in some kind of salute.”

“I can't
believe
it – that I was there without knowing. It's terrifying!”

“I know.”

“Could anything like that have happened before?”

“I've no idea.”

Her mind switched back to her original fear. “Matthew must be mad, mustn't he; paranoid, in some way? It would explain all his talk about the stones. You see, the stones are actually supposed to be the Bear Twins – and the girl they both loved.”

She looked up at him quickly as the full measure of her danger struck them both at the same time.

“God, Madeleine, we must get you away – immediately.”

“But I can't. I've promised to stay with Deidre while my uncle and aunt go on holiday. They haven't been away by themselves since she was born.”

“Damn the Staveleys' holiday, your life might be in danger. If the Selbys really believe they're the Bear Twins and they're both in love with you, your presence must be central to whatever they're planning. The first priority is to get you away, and once you're safe I'll have to set about trying to convince someone in authority of the danger. God knows how. Even now, with all the evidence piling up, I have difficulty believing it myself. Perhaps if I had a word with Douglas Braithwaite –”

“But could you rely on him? He might hold back because of his wife.”

“It's too late for that now. The whole village is in danger. If, as now seems likely, the twins can overrule people's wills any time they want, they're considerably more powerful than I realized. So no more arguing, please. You'll have to go into hiding till it's all over. We can't risk anything happening to you.”

She met his eyes and something in her expression started his blood pounding again. “Can't we?” she said softly.

“After my exhibition the other evening, you're surely not in much doubt about my feelings.

“I thought you were just amusing yourself while your wife is abroad.”

“That was why you ran away?”

She nodded. Her eyes were still locked in his and her breathing had quickened. He said barely audibly, “And now?”

“I shouldn't run away again.”

He reached for her with an eagerness that was almost pain and this time she was waiting for him, body straining, hands caressing, and his total commitment was no longer a cause for disquiet but of wild, exploding joy.

When finally the tumult was over and the inevitable cigarette in his hand, he said teasingly, “It's just as well you drew the curtains!”

She smiled and nestled against him, but he felt a tremor go through her and cursed his thoughtlessness. Once more the menace of the Crowthorpe twins hung heavily between them.

He stroked her hair gently. “I think it would be as well if no-one knew about this for the moment. There's enough trouble brewing without stepping up any vendetta between myself and the Selbys. Do you think Matthews realizes you came here?”

She shivered and pressed against him. “I don't know.”

He brushed her hair with his lips. “Trust me, darling. I'll work something out.”

But as he drew back the curtains to watch her walk across the grass, his eyes were drawn inexorably to the blind staring window of the Selbys' flat and a feeling of helplessness clamped over him.

“Girls, which of you borrowed my new shoes?” Felicity appeared in the doorway, her face flushed with annoyance, and her daughters calmly returned her accusing gaze.

“Not me.”

“Nor did I.”

“One of you must have, because there's mud caked on the side. It really is too bad of you. I've never even worn them myself.”

Geoff's voice called from upstairs and she turned away. “The least you can do is clean them for me,” she added over her shoulder.

The twins exchanged glances. There was no way they could tell their mother she had worn the shoes herself on her visit to the Circle – and been unfortunate enough, on that hot dry night, to step into the little pool of blood which Kim, in an excess of zeal, had poured at the foot of the Bride Stone.

Nicola said softly, “It's weird, somehow, knowing she can't remember.”

“What's worrying me,” Claire remarked, “is what'll happen next time. I'm not looking forward to seeing the Miss Carters again. Do you remember when we were little, how they used to shuffle round the village making those peculiar noises? I was terrified of them.”

“Yet Mrs Braithwaite said they were the ones who recognized the Selbys.” Nicola looked across at her sister. “It's only symbolic though, isn't it? I mean, Philip and Matthew aren't going to appear with bearskins round their shoulders and expect us to worship them?”

Claire shuddered. “I have a creepy kind of feeling they just might.”

After a lifetime of surface emotions, Jason had that day been experiencing uncomfortable extremes of happiness and anxiety as he tried to work out the most convincing means of alerting someone to the danger of the twins. He had still not solved the problem when, at four o'clock, he saw Madeleine come running across the garden and a wave of premonition swept over him. He pushed back his chair and hurried to meet her.

“There's a phone call for you, from London. She said, ‘Tell him it's Penelope.' She sounded upset, Jason.”

He started to run towards the house, Madeleine at his heels, and caught up the phone lying on the hall table.

“Pen? What's wrong?”

“Oh Jason! Thank God you mentioned that woman's name when you phoned! It's Alex – he's been hurt.”

Jason's hand tightened on the receiver. “How?”

“At a cricket match this afternoon. The ball caught him on the back of the head. He's unconscious. I'm at the hospital now. Jason –” Her voice rocked. “Will you come?”

“Of course. How serious is it?”

“I don't know. The X-rays aren't very conclusive but until he regains consciousness –” Across the miles he could hear the unspoken dread in her voice. He glanced at his watch.

“I'll be there about ten. Will you be at the hospital?”

“Yes, I'll stay here. Please hurry.”

As he put down the phone Madeleine appeared fearfully in the kitchen doorway. His eyes went to the room behind her and he raised his eyebrows interrogatively.

She shook her head. “Everyone's out.”

He moved forward and pulled her against him. “My son's been hurt. I'll have to go, but I can't leave you here. Come with me.”

“You know I can't. You must be with your family.”