“Then leave. Because as long as you’re with her, they’ll target me and you and see a link they can exploit.”
Snow starts to fall again, adding to the crisp whiteness that’s already underfoot.
“You sound as if you don’t support them anymore.”
There’s a long sigh. “I do. I think being ruled by Norway will be better for Scotland. They’ll get protection from England, but I don’t like being a pawn in this game that’s being played.”
“Who are the players.” I hear the sound of birds singing in the background. Wherever Majjie is, she’s outside.
“Us, Alba. Goldsmith – the elder not the younger. “
“Goldsmith the elder – I thought he wanted Scotland to be reunified with England?”
She laughs. “It’s oil. And everyone has a price. His is high.”
“Then why is he pushing William to go after Blair?” I already know the answer.
“He makes it an unappealing proposition. He’s the perfect scapegoat. Your pirate friend knows all about it. Ask him.”
“Not sure it’s all that simple.” Because it wasn’t. Nothing ever was.
“Or are you just not sure I’m right? You never trusted me, Ben.”
“You never gave me reason to.”
“One more thing before I wish you a happy and peaceful Christmas. Leave her. Go to ground. Because the longer you’re around her, the more chance there is of both of you ending up dead.”
“Happy Christmas, Majken.”
“Happy Christmas, little brother.” She says it in English and not Gaelic and that’s when I realise something’s wrong.
She’s not lying.
Chapter Nineteen
Icurse loudly and pull the tape off my hands. Wrapping gifts is not something I’ve done since I was twelve and thought that giving presents for Christmas was a way to make Majken like me more.
It didn’t work, so I stopped buying her presents with what meagre amount of money I had, not that she cared. According to Majken back then, giving gifts was a capitalist concept, a theory which worked quite well.
I had no idea if my sister still believed in the same, or whether she gave and received gifts at Christmas like most other people in the Western Hemisphere and I had no idea whether I cared either.
The tape is tangled round my fingers and the more I rip at it, the more it tightens.
“I never thought I’d see you get this frustrated.”
I spin round at the sound of the voice and manage to smile before waving my fingers. Isaac stands there, looking paler than normal and he isn’t wearing his suit.
“Fucking tape. Anyway, you shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t you be resting or something?”
Half the household is resting. The King is much the same, still hanging on and Blair is spending as much time with him as she can. Her injury is healing but her skin is tight and loud noises make her jump.
Isaac is here for Christmas and New Year, seeing Ivy before she wanders off to the Caribbean with her pirate and escaping from the implosion that’s his family.
Everyone is broken or trying to keep pieces together. The year is frail and although the dark days and darker nights are warm and dream-like, it feels as if we are preparing for a final battle.
There’s a hush, a quietness that makes you want to tiptoe around so as not to disturb whatever ghosts are lingering, and maybe that’s what it is. Lennox watching the outcomes from his death.
“I’ve done enough resting.” Isaac stands with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorframe. “Is that for Blair?”
