4.
Helen looked out of her window and down the long drive to the line of trees that blocked the view beyond her gate. She liked to feel secluded; keep away prying eyes. They would be here soon. It was an important night and everything was in place. Andrea had been a much tougher nut to crack than she had first thought but she was not going to be thwarted by such a pathetic and ordinary woman. It had happened once but she was determined it would never happen again. There was too much riding on it. She had waited a lifetime, several lifetimes, for this moment and it was within her grasp. She would have the 2 runes, the one in the exhibition and the one in Andrea’s keeping, and would go back to Iona to save her brother, both to return to the future with the power of the runes and together they would rebuild their empire in a new world. Generations of women before her had led to this moment - it was her destiny and she could not fail now in her mission. The MacDonald clan would rise again to power and she would rule along with her brother; all that stood in the way was two small stones and a woman who was not worthy of her brother’s love.
At least she knew the whereabouts of one rune; the one that had propelled her into the present time. She had spent years collecting ancient artwork and artifacts in the hope that she would discover the second; the two runes that would bring herself and her brother safely to the future, her brother who lay dying back in Iona, 500 years in the past. Only she could save him now.
The lights of a car beamed across the driveway as the taxi crawled up the drive and came to a halt in front of the entrance, the wheels scattering the grey gravel over the immaculate lawn.
Andrea took a deep breath as she looked up at the great mansion house, seeing the dark outline of a figure in one of the lighted downstairs windows. In her head she wanted to turn back, run away. There was something wrong, something evil about the place. It sounded stupid but her hackles were raised and she sat in silence in the back of the cab, staring out into the night.
"Andrea!" Steve was opening the door and grabbing at her hand to pull her out.
Smoothing down her skirt she stepped into the cold air. She had made an extra effort tonight; she would not let Helen beat her, whatever she was up to. The dress was new and expensive, very expensive. It fitted well, perhaps a little too well and hugged her slender figure. She wore killer heels, uncomfortable but adding an extra 2 inches to her height was part of her battle armor; essential she always found in one to one combat with another of her sex.
A butler answered the door, not one of the lumbering, old and white haired dodders from an Agatha Christie novel, but a beautiful young and toned man, straight from the pages of Dorian Gray, an Adonis in the flesh. He was almost too beautiful, too perfect with his finely chiseled features, and although he smiled in greeting, his manner was cold and aloof, just like his mistress.
Gay too no doubt - not that she had an issue with that, but no heterosexual man she knew had such perfect skin and plucked eyebrows.
They were soon whisked down a marble floored hallway and past a wide and sweeping staircase into one of the reception rooms and asked to wait. Andrea had clung onto Steve’s sleeve in an attempt not to slip on the shining surface. Helen liked to keep her guests waiting and make a grand entrance, whilst Andrea and Steve stood in silence awaiting the moment.
Five minutes passed before the sound of her stilettos could be heard clipping against the marble and Andrea wondered how Helen managed to stay upright. The door swung open in a grand gesture and there she stood with arms open to welcome her guests, with a smile so wide it hardly fitted onto her slender face.
She looked perfect as always, although Andrea always thought there was something of a ‘preserved’ look about her, as if she had been packed away in mothballs until needed and Andrea expected a smell of camphor to follow her. Instead the smell was of an expensive perfume - setting her mind back to the previous evening, the sense that someone had been in her bedroom; the same sweet smell.
Once the air kisses were over and the drinks ordered, Helen invited them to sit by the fire. The talk was mainly directed towards Steve, talk of the exhibition and art in general, but the green cat eyes seemed to always be looking at Andrea.
Helen seemed to have bewitched Steve; he was all interest and smiles like a small puppy dog lapping up the attention she was pouring on him. Andrea tried not to bristle; she would not let Helen get to her, not tonight. Tonight she would be the perfect guest and smile and laugh in all the right places. She would deal with Steve later.
Over dinner the talk moved to the subject of the new exhibition. Andrea kept her face still, trying to look disinterested in the subject, the only give away was the slight grinding of her jaw which she did when nervous.
“The new exhibition is so exciting”, purred Helen, eyes staring, unblinking at Andrea.
“To have one of the sacred runes is such an honor, they are believed to hold the power of the ancient Gods; the forgotten deities. Carved by Odin’s own hand. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Steve laughed “It’s a great story Helen, but surely you don’t believe in all of that rubbish?”
Helen narrowed her eyes and for a moment a line travelled across her crease-free brow before she flashed a brilliant smile back at him. “Who knows what powers exist in this old world of ours Steve? What did your Lord Hamlet say? ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy’. I like to keep an open mind” With that she laughed loudly, her black hair tumbling across her face for a brief moment, the eyes gleaming behind the stray strands.
“It’s just a pity we don’t know the whereabouts of the second stone”, once again she gazed across the table to Andrea, who met her gaze with the same steady stare.
“One of my distant ancestors is said to have found this stone. It has been in my family for generations. I have offered a substantive reward for anyone coming forward with the second stone, but maybe it is lost for good?”
“Maybe it is just a myth – perhaps there is only one stone after all?” Steve was getting bored with the conversation and wanted to move the topic of conversation back onto the subject of his exhibition.
“Besides, what do you want the two stones for anyway – world domination?” Steve laughed at his own small joke.
“Perhaps.” Helen smiled and as if on cue the perfect butler entered the room with their coffees. Nodding to dismiss him, Helen took the silver salver of cups and cream and placed it on the table, and the young man left the room as silently as he had entered it.
“Would you like a little brandy in your coffee Andrea?”
Andrea was tired and wanted to get home but she nodded; she wanted to be the perfect guest tonight. Apart from Steve’s flirting it hadn’t been too bad an ordeal. She had deflected all of Helen’s attempts to draw her into conversation about the rune stone. Besides, the brandy looked expensive and she might as well take advantage.
“No brandy for you Steve, I have a rare and rather delicious whisky for you to try”. Steve was in his element.
The brandy was strong and Andrea didn’t see how much Helen had poured into the cup but it completely overpowered the taste of the coffee. The liquid burned her throat as she swallowed it down. So much for the expensive stuff, she would make do with Courvoisier in future.
The candles on the table had burned down quite low and the flames reflected and flickered from the surfaces of the silver coffee service. The meal had been quite substantive and the wine had flowed easily. Andrea felt her eyes start to close, she was weary, so weary, and her eyelids felt full and heavy. Helen and Steve were talking about the possibility of his exhibition moving to another city, and although Andrea tried to follow the conversation the words stopped making sense and she struggled to comprehend their meaning. Suddenly the room started to spin and the reflections and the candles started to blur her vision. She was being dragged to the ground as a heavy and dark veil started to descend upon her. Her mouth opened as she tried to speak, tried to call Steve’s name, but it was no use. The last thing she saw was Helen’s face bent over her, smiling.