Stones of wrath, p.24
Stones of Wrath, page 24
Mikkel said, “Please just leave it on my desk and don’t worry. I’m sure if it had been urgent, I would have had news of it before now.”
The parcel had a postmark from Manchester. He pulled the papers from the parcel and realised in an instant what they were. It was Clara Larsen’s manuscripts written in distinctive old Norse. It had an accompanying letter claiming ownership by an entrepreneur in Manchester. He was asking Professor Jacobsen to translate it. Mikkel felt irritated. This is going straight back to Clara. I will notify the police. He would also tell his new friend Captain Denby. Mikkel suspected the entrepreneur did not exist, but who was hiding behind that name? It was all mysterious. So many pieces in this puzzle were coming together, yet so many remained missing.
Mikkel cycled over to Ivy. He wanted to ask Thomas for Ivy’s hand in marriage. It had been a long thought-out decision. One that would more than likely see him ostracised by his parents. His time in England was drawing to a close. He’d finally applied to another university on the other side of the world. Mikkel was not comfortable taking Ivy back to Copenhagen and the ultimate rejection that would entail. She would not fit into that world, and quite frankly, neither did he. His world, and indeed the entire world, had shifted in a fundamental way. It would never be the same after this war was over.
He wanted to be out of Europe and had applied to the University of Buenos Aires. There was growth and opportunity there. Archaeology was in its infancy in South America. He hoped his expertise in languages would afford him this opportunity. Ivy didn’t know his plans yet. First things first. Ask Thomas for Ivy’s hand, then ask her to marry me and then break the news that they would be moving to Argentina. She might say no.’ Mikkel's stomach churned at the prospect of it.
As Mikkel cycled down Melrose Road, he heard a lot of noise emanating from number 47. The door was open. He could see a soldier standing there on crutches being hugged and fussed over. Beatrice was in tears. He realised this fellow must be Henry, Beatrice’s beau. Mikkel smiled and waved as he caught Ivy’s eye.
She ran out to meet him as he leaned his bicycle against the garden wall.
“Mikkel, this is Henry.”
“I thought as much.” Mikkel was about to shake his hand but withdrew. Henry didn't have a hand free as he lent on his crutches.
Mikkel said, “I’ve been told so much about you. This family has prayed long and hard for you.”
Thomas tugged at his braces and spoke to Henry.
“Son, you have no idea how glad we are that you are home again. Beatrice has had a long face for a long time.” Thomas winked mischievously. Beatrice gave her dad a playful slap, and they all squeezed into the sitting room. They sat Henry down, putting his crutches to his side.
Hannah moved to the kitchen, “I’ll put the kettle on while you tell us about France.”
Henry's face clouded. “It was worse than anything you can imagine. So many dead. It was like being in hell itself. As you can see, I took some shrapnel in my leg. But there were worse things than being shot.” Everyone gasped and looked surprised at his declaration.
“Many of the soldiers got a disease called ‘trench foot.’ Your feet rot and become gangrenous in the soggy trenches. I saw lads who lost not just toes, but their feet had to be amputated. Some lost their legs from the gangrene,” Henry looked at Nannan. “You may have thought knitting all those socks wasn’t a big part of the war effort. But because of you, none of my friends suffered from this wretched disease. You saved limbs, Nannan Ada!”
A tear rolled down Nannan’s wrinkled face and Ivy gave her a hug of pure pride. Beatrice, who was sitting on the edge of the armchair, reached over and hugged Henry. He looked into her eyes. “The thought of you kept me alive, that and the Anzac biscuits.” Everyone chuckled through their tears.
Henry used his crutches to stand, “Thomas, I’d like to ask your permission to marry your daughter.” Everyone cheered! Beatrice beamed as Henry pulled out a ring from his pocket and placed it on her finger. The ring once belonged to his Nannan.
“If you’ll have me, of course,” he said with a sheepish grin.
“Yes, of course a million times, yes,” Beatrice said. Another cheer rang out.
Thomas came over and put his hand on his shoulder, “Welcome to the family, son.”
Hannah planted a kiss on his cheek. “I agree with Thomas. Welcome to the family, Henry, and welcome home too.”
Mikkel realised he would not be asking for Ivy’s hand tonight. He smiled at the prospect of being welcomed into this lovely Yorkshire family.
Thirty-Five
The Holy Island of Lindisfarne
T
he weekend came around quickly, and Ivy and Archie were in high spirits. The chance to accompany Guilhermina Suggia both thrilled and unnerved them. She had studied in Paris under the pre-eminent cellist, Pablo Casals and had become one of the world’s leading cellists. This weekend they would play cut down versions of Saint-Saens: A Minor Concerto and Edward Elgar’s cello concerto.
They caught the early train and slept, so when they arrived on the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, they felt refreshed. Edward met them and was waxing lyrical about the evening’s concert.
“Welcome, welcome, I’m so happy you have returned to us, Mikkel, and brought two musicians with you. Tonight, is going to be glorious,” he gushed.
Mikkel introduced Ivy and Archie. By the expression on Edward's face, he surmised that Edward was captivated by Ivy’s beauty. He kissed her hand with a flourish. Ivy blushed and thanked him. Edward arranged for Archie and Ivy to practise with Guilhermina in an hour’s time.
Mikkel intended to search at the base of the castle. For safety, he had brought stout climbing shoes and a few archaeological tools. After thanking Edward for the brunch, he said, “I would like to go exploring while the musicians practise.”
“Not a problem, Mikkel. I’m going to be busy setting up for the soiree.”
Mikkel was glad of the opportunity to explore on his own. As he circumnavigated the castle rock, Mikkel listened to the exquisite sounds coming through the castle’s vaulted windows. He thought he must be in Heaven, doing archaeology to music … It doesn’t get much better than this, he thought. He climbed at a slow pace, looking for a sign or a clue. Anything that might show him the way. Up the escarpment, he saw a pair of seagulls sitting on the rocks. The sea breeze ruffled their feathers as they cried out. They turned to him, squawked loudly, and flew out towards the ocean. Mikkel continued his climb, stopping twice to admire the ocean view on one side and the ruins of the old priory on the other. Such a heavenly place, he envied Edward living here.
Round and up Mikkel climbed. He meticulously examined every stone on the escarpment along the west side. He stopped to take a drink and leaned back against the rocks. He reached the point where the seagulls had perched moments ago. He took off his satchel and placed it on the rock. Where would I hide something like the Ark? And would I mark the place? Watching the boats coming and going in the small harbour, he shuddered as he remembered his eventful journey back from Copenhagen. He could still hear the violin playing against the cello and the viola. The sound undulated on the strong breeze.
As he listened, he was in no doubt, Ivy is every bit as talented as Guilhermina. But of course, he reasoned, I may be biased. He took a deep breath and raised himself from his perch. When he picked up his satchel, he saw it … a miniscule, but deeply carved, Bible verse: Exodus 32:19
He bent down and peered at it, surveying the surrounding area. If you were not looking for this inscription, you would never find it. Mikkel carefully cleared the surrounding pebbles. This gave him enough purchase to lift and unseal a small grotto. It took effort and he grunted with the exertion of displacing the rock and slowly edging it on to a stable surface. His heart rate climbed as he imagined seeing what he believed would be an Ark, for the first time. Breathing out, he bent to peer into the grotto.
It was empty! Disappointment flooded through him. He reached his hand in, searching with his fingertips. Maybe a relic was left behind. His hand sifted through the layers of dirt and dust. That’s when he touched something cold. A key! It was large and heavy. He pulled it out and examined it. In all his years, he’d seen nothing like it. Ornately engraved, it displayed the coat of arms of The House of Guise. The key possessed twelve parts, each engraved with the names of the twelve tribes of Israel: Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, Zebulun, Benjamin, Dan, Naphtali, Gad, and Asher. Finally, Joseph and its division towards Ephraim and Manasseh. Mikkel knew, without a shadow of a doubt what door this key opened.
His heart raced as his excitement rose again. He was impatient to get back to Sheffield Manor to test his belief. Ready to leave, he reached in once again to make sure he had missed nothing. His hand stretched as far forward as possible. Digging in the dust and grime … another key! Mikkel pulled it out and examined it. This one was plain, with no engraving, but it seemed equally ancient. He had no clue what it might unlock.
Many questions came to mind: How had Mary’s grandmother known about this place? The only explanation must be the shipwreck of Margarite of Anjou’s military. They captured four hundred of them. Did a soldier hide here on this rock? Did he find the grotto and send word back to Margarite of this find? They would never have revealed the whereabouts to the Yorkists. Perhaps they executed them before they revealed the full story. Over time, it became a rumour. A story people spoke about in secret amongst the French Court. A rumour she became familiar with when Margaret went back there in defeat. Just over one hundred years later, Mary Queen of Scots must have sent people here to find the Ark. If indeed, that is what they hid in the grotto. Mikkel suspected Mary built the room which now protected it under Castlegate. It was a clever idea to return the key here. Nothing would get through that steel door without the key. Why Mary never revealed its hiding place and why she didn’t use it to buy her freedom, was a mystery. It could mean only one thing … Mary Queen of Scots had encountered the Angel. What a comfort it must have been on the day of her execution.
Mikkel doubted he would ever know all the details.
He wrapped the keys in an oilcloth and placed them in his satchel. He replaced the stone across the grotto and filled in the gaps with pebbles, just as he had found it. He began his climb across to the path leading to the castle. He was eager to tell Ivy and Archie what he had found. Edward need not know about it.
Mikkel ran into him at the main entrance. He seemed busy instructing a maid where to put an enormous vase of flowers. “Gertie, take these and put them on the second step to the stage. Then come back for the other.” The maid wobbled, unsteady with the weight of it all.
Mikkel stepped in. “Here, let me.”
“Oh, marvellous, Mikkel. How did your expedition go?”
Mikkel, ever cautious, said, “Well, I didn’t find what I was looking for.” He said this with a crestfallen face. It wasn’t a lie. He had been looking for the Ark, not a key.
When he arrived in the music room, he looked directly at Ivy and Archie. His expression told them he had indeed found something. They acknowledged his message by making subtle eye movements.
Gracing the music room was a small wooden stage with three steps leading up to it. They had built the room in the shape of a ship with three windows facing the ocean and one behind the stage. Cream stucco was the only feature on the walls. He had painted the wooden floor green and had several exposed oak beams running across the ceiling. It had the appearance and sensation of being on Sir Francis Drake’s ship, the Golden Hind. The ambience was cosy, yet monastic. With just enough light from the window, the musicians could see their manuscripts. Edward had squeezed in a magnificent free-standing candelabra. Ivy and Archie stood on either side of Guilhermina. They were putting their instruments away and looked satisfied they were ready for this evening’s performance.
“It is time to explore the island,” said Edward.
After strolling through the ruins of the old priory, they crossed to the causeway. The guests would soon arrive. At low tide, a road appeared from under the water. It connected the island with the mainland. A Hanson carriage with this evening’s guests appeared on the horizon, and Edward clapped his hands with glee.
“This evening we have some friends of mine from London, Mrs. Astley Cooper and her talented and amusing young protégé, Noel Coward. He’s been appearing at the Prince of Wales theatre in a play called ‘The Happy Family.’ Last year he was in Peter Pan.”
Mikkel, Ivy and Archie looked impressed and watched as the couple stepped down from the carriage. They walked amiably toward the castle. The young man looked around as if trying to find an escape route.
He said, “I say, Astley, you said peace and quiet would do me good. But this might be a step too far.” Then he turned around to Ivy and winked at her. She smothered a laugh.
Mrs Cooper said, “Yes, well, keeping you out of trouble has become a full-time occupation. Once that tide comes in, I can relax knowing you’ve got nowhere to escape to.”
Edward said, “Ah, yes, well, there was an instance where a woman crossed the causeway on stilts.”
“Ah ha ha!” shouted Noel with glee, “Now that would be a challenge.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Edward, don’t give him any more ideas. I need to relax this weekend.”
Laughter broke out as everyone enjoyed the amusing banter.
By the time they made the climb to the castle entrance, it was almost dinner time.
Astley Cooper breathed out, “Oh my bones are relaxing now, this is wonderful, Edward. I envy you living here.”
Everyone agreed except for Noel Coward who exclaimed, “Argh, I couldn’t think of anything drearier.” He had a way of being rude in the most hilarious way.
Dinner was not a grand affair. However, it was remarkable because of the castle setting. They sat at the dinner table encased in ancient rock and vaulted sandstone with a full width inglenook. The fire was blazing and the smell of bread baking in the oven was tantalising. Cook brought the hot fragrant bread to the table with mussel soup.
Edward exclaimed, “Everything we are eating this evening was locally sourced.”
Archie and Ivy bowed their heads to give thanks, and everyone followed suit. Mikkel was very proud of them.
Edward continued, “The main course is battered whitefish with Cook’s secret ingredient. She made the sauce from the local meade. Added to that we have fresh potatoes and beans from the walled garden.” Edward reminded everyone that Gertrude Jekyll had designed the garden.
It was a meal to remember for Ivy and Archie. They had rarely been out of Sheffield in their young lives. To be in such company was thrilling. They chatted and laughed and spoke about Guillermina’s life in Paris and Noel’s budding career in London. Mikkel spoke of his travels with his archaeology, especially his search for the true Mount Sinai which intrigued everyone. Ivy and Archie remained quiet, as their lives were not as far reaching as their esteemed company. Both yearned to travel one day.
Guilhermina looked over at Ivy and Archie and said, “You are both fine musicians. If you ever need an introduction or a reference from me, I will give it gladly.” They were thrilled by her warm praise and thanked her profusely.
Ivy said, “I hope one day to play my violin as a professional. It has been my dream.” Guilhermina nodded and agreed she should indeed follow her dream.
After dessert, they retired to the music room. Guilhermina, Ivy, and Archie played for the little audience. It was stress free because they were now all friends. The nerves they had when they first arrived had dissipated. Astley, Noel, Mikkel, and Edward were taken into another realm as the trio played Astley whispered, “This is truly divine.”
As they loosened their bows at the end of their performance, Mikkel looked at Ivy with absolute pride and pure love. It was as if no-one else was in the room. He nodded to her to come out onto the open buttress to speak with him in private. The others, including Archie, went off to play charades. Noel would make sure it was hilarious.
Mikkel put his arm around Ivy’s shoulders as the cold sea breeze enveloped them. She had worn the dress her mother made for the upcoming performance in Sheffield. She looked even more beautiful in it. Because it was black, she had put a startling green bolero over the dress to give it a glamourous touch and included a matching cummerbund. There was no doubt she did not appear out of place next to Astley or Guilhermina.
“You look wonderful in that dress, Ivy,” he said.
She blushed, “There are advantages to having a seamstress for a mother.”
Mikkel’s expression became serious and filled with love. “Ivy, I think we both know our lives are entwined. But there is something I must tell you.” His brows furrowed with concern, but his blue eyes sparkled with hope. “My days at Sheffield university are coming to an end.”
A shocked expression crossed Ivy’s emerald eyes. Mikkel picked up a raven curl that blew across her face and tucked it behind her ear. His hand lingered on her cheek. She said nothing and let him continue.
“I have longed to go to South America to travel and study the unseen archaeological treasures there. I have applied to the University of Buenos Aires in Argentina. Could you imagine yourself in a foreign country?”
Before she could answer, he said, “Ivy, I can’t think of a better time than now to ask you. Could you leave your family and your country for me? Would you consider a life with me? Will you, my darling … will you marry me?”
As the sun set over the little harbour of Lindisfarne, Mikkel pulled a box from his waistcoat. With his white shirt standing out against his bowtie, he flicked his long coat back. Then he got down on one knee. He held up an exquisite emerald and diamond ring for her to see. Ivy took in a breath and looked down at him.
“Let me think about it for a minute.” She looked up in thought, a wistful smile on her face. When she looked back, his face was stricken, and she relented.
