Chapter 15

 

Felice is particular about videos. The right film sets the tone for the evening. And she’s hard to please. In the end, I bring three and hope one of them will pass her exacting standards.

“Hey, not bad,” her tone is semi-impressed as she flips through them, “we could actually watch all of these.”

Kit is curled up in her favourite corner of the couch, while Felice has dragged out a couple of beanbags for herself and Spike. The coffee table is piled with cans of beer and bowls of crisps. It all looks exactly the same. If Spike hadn’t told me about the row, I’d never have guessed it happened. It feels awkward to get too close to Kit so I sit on the furthest end of the L-shaped couch, at an uncomfortable distance from everyone else. We munch crisps, watching the film, not feeling the need to talk. I don’t want a beer, but Felice insists. “You can stay over, there’s plenty of room so you can’t use driving as an excuse.”

I reach for a can and open it. The alcohol dulls the edges a little, makes it easier to be in the same space as Kit. My thoughts wander all over the place, drifting from Kit to Baz and how I haven’t heard a word from Mac since ‘Plagued by You’ went to Number One. Because of the extra shift over the weekend, I haven’t had a day off in ages and it’s starting to catch up on me, or maybe it’s the unaccustomed beer.

Towards the end of the second film, Kit falls asleep, stretched out on the couch. I get up to cover her with a throw. She murmurs in her sleep, and pulls the cover around her, nestling into it. The thought of a second beer doesn’t appeal to me and, though Felice and Spike are glued to the TV screen, I can’t concentrate on the film. Neither of them look up when I slip out of the living-room and creep upstairs to the spare room I stayed in six weeks ago. It feels like another lifetime.

Moonlight streams in through the french windows casting shadows in unexpected places. The night is bright and mild, drawing me to the balcony. I open the French doors and step outside. The silence creeps me out, the dark countryside stretching below me, nothing but fields of sleeping sheep and cattle, not a sound, not even the furtive rustle of a nocturnal creature.

The full moon illuminates the silhouette of the ancient burial site and casts a dull gleam on the river in the distance. As I stare out into the night, my drowsiness disappears, and I feel light and alive, sparkling with anticipation. In front of my eyes, a path appears before me, lit up by the moon. It leads straight to the passage grave.

In a trancelike state, sure I’m dreaming, I follow the shining trail. Unable to resist, the magnetic lure draws me ever closer. There's a tantalising music, a faint tinkle that vanishes as soon as you try to listen to it, but starts again once you stop. It’s teasing and taunting, but I’m not afraid. All I know is I have to follow the path. It calls to something deep inside my soul, at the very core of my being. Instinctively, I obey without questioning, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to follow a glowing path into the depths of the night.

As I get closer, a darkness emanates from the tomb, reaching out and drawing me in. I can no longer see where I’m going. Someone, or something, is in there waiting for me. It’s a trap and I’ve been caught. I’m falling, down, down, down, deep into the dark. Just when I think I’m going to hit the bottom, the darkness engulfs me.

Consumes me.

And everything goes black.

A light shining in my face wakes me up. Shielding my eyes from the dazzling beam, I scramble to sit up and look around me. A wave of nausea passes through me, and I can’t tell if I’m still trapped in the strange, vivid dream. The ground beneath me is hard. Damp with dew. A torch points straight at me at me.

My eyes widen.

Felice.

Spike is standing beside her and they are both staring at me.

Kit is lying on the ground beside me.

What on earth happened?

In a daze, I struggle to my feet. My head is spinning and my mouth is dry.

As soon as I’m standing, I recognise the place.

I know where I am.

On top of the passage grave.

But how did I get here? And why is Kit beside me?

“Check out the lovebirds,” Spike smirks.

“You scared the crap out of us!” Felice turns the torch towards Kit.

She stirs, opens her eyes and lets out a frightened moan. I help her up. Her arm is bare and cold. She shivers as she struggles to her feet. It has to be a dream, despite the sharp chill of the morning air.

Felice lights a cigarette and a trace of nicotine wafts through the crisp air. Could I smell it so clearly if I was dreaming?

Dawn is creeping over the horizon as Kit whispers something about another entrance. Her words make no sense, but Spike immediately disappears down the slope. Felice continues to stand over us with her torch. A moment later, Spike’s voice comes from over the crest. “There’s nothing here.”

“No,” Kit objects, “there is. There has to be!”

We half-tumble, half-slide down the side of the mound to join him. Kit scrabbles madly in the ground beside a hawthorn, pushing aside leaves and twigs, but Spike is right. There’s nothing there. Nothing except the untouched earth.

“What are you looking for?” I ask Kit.

“The entrance to a second passageway,” she replies. “It’s how I found you.”

I shake my head, still dazed. Everything about tonight is impossible, unless it’s all a dream.

“Look,” Felice says to Kit, “it’s a full moon and this is an old place, loaded with atmosphere. You probably just had a really vivid dream.”

“Yeah, maybe you were bewitched,” Spike says with a laugh. “What do you think, Tully? Did you wake Aonghus?”

What? What’s he talking about? Am I really awake? Or have they all found their way into my dream?

“I don't know.” I scratch my head. “I can't remember anything. I've no idea how I got here.”

“You ever sleepwalk?” Felice asks me.

“Yeah, when I was younger, but that was years ago.” It’s true I used to scare my mother as a child. She was always terrified I’d fall down the stairs. But the last time I did that I was nine years old, and I’m pretty sure I never went outside. Mam would have told me about it if I had.

Felice nods with satisfaction and gives Kit a ‘told you so’ look.

We traipse back to the house in silence. Nobody, except maybe Felice, entirely sure what to make of it all.

When we get back, Felice heads upstairs and Spike goes to curl up on the couch in the living room. Kit and I are left staring at each other across the marble-topped island in the kitchen. I hope she won’t go to bed too because none of this makes any sense and I need to know what happened. When she asks me if I want coffee and goes to fill the kettle, I nod with relief.

“Did you come looking for me?” I ask.

“Yes, I saw you. In a dream. Don't you think that's weird?”

“I wish I could remember more.” I rub my hand through my hair and find a bit of a leaf. Shaking my head, I put the leaf on the countertop and stare at it. “It’s hard to believe it wasn’t all a dream, but I guess that’s the proof we were really up there.”

“Can you remember anything?”

“The only thing I remember is this incredibly powerful sensation right at the end. Like I had to choose something, but it was super-important to get it right because otherwise everything would be screwed. Have you ever had one of those really vivid dreams that you're sure you'll remember, but when you wake up, it's gone? No matter how hard you try, you can't find your way back into it.”

Her nod is understanding and encourages me to go on.

“Well, I guess it was like that. I still feel the memory of it there, tugging at the edge of my mind.”

Something in the way she looks at me makes me feel hopeful. After all, she came to look for me, she knew where to find me. She must care a little bit. It takes her a moment to answer and I don’t know what she’s going to say, but when she speaks, her words are the last thing I expected.

“Aonghus was there,” she says. “In the tunnel.”

“Tunnel?” What is she talking about?

“The chamber? Underground? In the passage grave?”

“Kit!” I keep my voice soft, not wanting to frighten her, not wanting her to see how crazy that sounds. “We couldn’t have been in there. It’s locked.”

“Tully, the full moon last night” she says, “that was Lunasa.”

“But we already had Lunasa over a week ago.” I’m totally confused now.

“We got the wrong date,” she says. “The Celtic calendar followed the lunar cycle. The original festival of Lunasa was held on the night of the full moon. Changing the date to the first of August came later, in the middle ages. It was an attempt to Christianise the old pagan traditions.”

“Kit?” I barely know how to ask the question, “do you think we woke Aonghus?”

“Yes,” she doesn’t hesitate, “don’t you?”

“No.”

It’s the wrong answer. She turns away, embarrassed, like she was on the verge of saying something else, and changed her mind.

“I should go,” I say when she doesn’t look at me. “Work,” I go on, feeling the need to bring us back to reality. “I have to get cleaned up.”

“Does Mac mind you working days?” she asks. “You must be missing rehearsals?”

“What?” I stare blankly at the skeletal fragment of leaf on the work surface, wondering what happened last night, how Kit and I both ended up there, how much of the strangeness was a dream and how much reality. “Oh, Mac. No. He doesn't need me. Baz is back. He’s broken up with Jenna.”

“Mac could have been more understanding,” Kit says. “They really cared about each other.”

“If Baz cared that much about Jenna, he would have left the band and never looked back. That’s what I’d do.” I raise my eyes to meet hers, so she can see I mean it.

“Love or music,” she murmurs.

“Yeah, maybe, sometimes it's hard to make the right decision.” I get up to go. “Thanks for coming to find me.”

She stands on the top step and watches me out of sight. Despite the exceedingly weird night, I drive into a bright new day with a smile on my lips.

She went out searching for me in the middle of the night. That proves something. Even if it’s only the tiniest bit, Kit cares about me!