Page 59 of The Start of the Story
‘Is it all right if Eamonn comes over tomorrow and we take him up to the stone?’ Connor asked, propping himself against my desk. ‘He’s staying in York tonight.’
‘Of course.’ I frowned. ‘But how will you get over there?’
Eamonn grinned, and it was the white-toothed grin of a Hollywood star. I gave myself a talking-to. ‘I’ve hired a car,’ he said. ‘Connor is the only one of the family who can’t drive.’ Then he gave his brother a very unpriestly smack around the head. ‘You need to learn, my friend,’ he said. ‘You’re not five.’
‘I’ve tried! You know what happened when Mrs O’Donahue took me for a spin around Dundrum. Newspapers everywhere, and a poodle that will never be the same again.’
‘He’ll certainly look over his shoulder next time he hears a Fiat Panda coming towards him.’ Eamonn nodded. Then he looked at me, and I was surprised by the depth of expression in his dark eyes. He loved his brother and was assessing me for suitability – it was a mother-in-law look, not a look I would have expected to see from a man of the cloth. ‘Perhaps Rowan can teach you.’
I wondered whether the family had sent him to check me out. Then I remembered that Connor had summoned him, and again I wondered why. As far as I knew there was nothing ungodly about the Fairy Stane, although the position of fairies within the paranormal canon might contravene something biblical. Not my field of study, thankfully.
‘Tomorrow morning?’ I gave ChessA Look. ‘I’ll work from home tomorrow, Chess.’
She was still boggling. ‘Oh, do you have to?’
‘Yes.’
Then she brightened. ‘Maybe tonight I could take Eamonn out? Show him the sights of York?’
Eamonn and Connor exchanged a similarLook. Women falling over themselves for Eamonn’s attention was clearlynot an unknown occurrence. ‘That would be nice, thank you,’ Eamonn said brightly. ‘There’s a couple of churches I’d like a look over before I go back.’
Chess’s smile faded a little, but she gamely breezed on. ‘Here’s my number. I’ll pick you up from your… hotel?’
‘That would be grand.’
Connor and I left the two of them arranging a meet-up, and I clutched at Connor’s arm as we walked through the car park. ‘She’s going to try to seduce a priest! Oh, that girl is going to hell.’
‘Which you don’t believe in,’ Connor said, smoothly.
‘No, but… should we leave them alone? Chess can be – persistent.’
Connor gave me a hug in the darkness. ‘Eamonn has been there before, trust me,’ he said. ‘He’s a great one for letting them down gently. Now, I’ve got some fish here – would you like a Goan fish curry tonight?’
I drove home to the cottage and marvelled at the way we’d fallen into this routine and how comfortable it was. We still hadn’t spoken about any kind of future. I was aware that he’d got a six-month secondment and that the Romans and their possible settlement couldn’t keep him here forever. Did I evenwanthim here forever? Even if he was great company, cooked like a dream, was completely house-trained and had even struck up an uneasy alliance with the ducks?
Did I? Could I see a future, a new, different future, with Connor? I looked down into the valley as we breasted the rise that took us down to the river and the mill cottage. Everything was dark, apart from the little glimmer of light that was the kitchen lamp, a tiny, summoning beacon across the acres of night. ‘Allegorical,’ I said to its shining hint of hope in the gloom.
‘Sorry?’ Connor twitched upright.
‘Nothing,’ I said, and steered the car down the hill to home.
The next morning was bright and sharp with frost, the ground diamond-hard and our breaths clouded the view as we stepped out over the moor towards the stone. Connor and I were wearing thick jumpers and boots, but Eamonn was evidently unprepared for the conditions in his borrowed wellingtons and a waxed jacket that didn’t have nearly enough layers underneath.
Connor pointed out sights of interest as we went. Well, of interest to him, anyway.
‘That’s where the medieval manor was, up there past the hill.’
Eamonn nodded as though this had already been discussed. Maybe it had, although I had no idea why it would have been.
‘And there would have been pretty much a whole village up here somewhere,’ Connor went on. ‘The cottage was part of the mill for the entire settlement. Probably got Domesday origins.’
Eamonn nodded again as we tramped out over the cold-crisped grass and heather.
‘This is the stone in question. Gateway to fairyland, apparently.’ Connor looked meaningfully at Eamonn.
‘Ah, no, it’s just a marker now,’ Eamonn replied. ‘The stone isn’t symbolic.’
‘If it is what we think…’
