Chapter One - A Hot Date With A Stone
They announced it was the hottest summer since records began. Hotter than the legendary heatwave of '76, apparently.
Driving along at 40mph with every window open helped. The sweat soon began to trickle though, whenever she stopped the car to check the map - which was often.
Andi Carver had no sense of direction, which was a bit of a disadvantage when driving alone in unknown territory. Her boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend, John, had joked 'you could turn Andi round once in her own garden and she'd lose her bearings', and she couldn't deny it was true.
However, she was now confident she knew where she was going. The castle towards which she was heading was now in view. There should be a turning off to the right about two miles up this road.
The tarmac ahead shimmered in the heat. She shifted in her seat, parting her legs as much as possible, trying to entice the cool air up her dress; through her dress; anywhere.
Even her Rolling Stones tape had given up the ghost. Poor Mick had begun to sound as though he were singing under water and the heat had finally dissolved 'Honky Tonk Woman' into a garbled mess. Rarely had she driven without music.
Switching off the tape, she almost missed the turning. Skidding to a halt, she had just enough room to swing the car into the track that was sign-posted to the castle.
Parking the car and stepping out of that oversized microwave into an equally relentless heat, she crunched across the parched heather to the edge of the grounds and gazed.
The site was that of what once had been a great castle. The area was massive, and although a great deal of stone still stood upright, clearly it was just a fraction of what the castle had been.
Andi walked around for a while, wishing there could be just a breath of wind to relieve the heat. The castle stood high, overlooking the arid countryside. The sun was taking no prisoners.
"Well, I'm here, Gran," she whispered. "I made it to your castle, just as you wanted."
There was a lake, way off on the other side, which looked cool and inviting, but she really needed a rest right now.
She found a particularly tall piece of wall which offered some shade from the sun, and flopped down, the cool of the stone delicious against her back.
She rummaged through the huge holdall she called a handbag and found the bottle of water. It was still on the cool side and as she drank, she allowed the water to trickle from the corners of her mouth and run down her chin, down her throat, between her breasts.
She was alone. No one else had been mad enough to drive up here in the midday sun.
The heat shimmied from the ground and distorted the ruins, making them waver and wobble as she looked at them through the haze. The silence was bliss. There was almost a feeling of time standing still, an eerie shift in the momentum of things. If Robert the Bruce were to appear right now, she wouldn't be surprised.
She put the bottle of water to her forehead. Even in the shade it was hot and she'd deliberately dressed in her coolest clothes - a white, strappy, Indian-cotton dress which stopped inches above her knees; white leather flip flops and the smallest G-string she owned - the white one with three little rhinestone stars on the back. She particularly liked this one because the stars sat just below the tattoo of a dolphin she had at the very top of her buttocks, and it gave the impression the dolphin was leaping over the stars.
Not that there was anyone to appreciate it these days. Not since John had left six weeks ago.
She closed her eyes and pointed her face to the sky. She refused to think about John right now. She'd come up here to get away from all that.
She let her hand fall to the ground and idly, she played with the pebbles there, lifting them up and hearing them clatter to the ground through her open fist.
This is what she needed - quiet and solitude and a handful of worry-stones. A glass of ice-cold wine would be nice but, hey.
The stones felt pleasant - all smooth, cool and...
She glanced down at the last one remaining in her hand. She had thought it felt strange and now she looked, she could see why. The stone was dark grey, flat, rough and shaped like an arch. There was a hole in the centre, exactly the same shape as the stone itself. Three dark lines were carved down either side of the hole. It was a miniature archway.
Andi stared at it. In all her life she had never seen such a perfectly formed and unusual stone.
She had inherited a fascination for stones with holes in from her Gran. Gran had collected them and had told Andi from a very early age that stones with holes in were sacred and had a special magic all of their own.
Little Andrea had listened in awe and taken it all on board. Now she was grown, she smiled at her Gran's eccentric beliefs, but the fascination for stones with holes had stayed with her and she now had a little collection of her own which stood in a large white bowl in her bathroom. It was her way of remembering the woman she had been so close to.
Palming the stone, she stood up and collected her things together. Throwing the bag over her shoulder she began making her way towards the lake when she stopped in her tracks.
Now she had moved position, a different part of the castle ruins had come into view and one section in particular had caught her eye.
Standing a little way to the left on its own was a small archway, perfectly formed in amongst the crumbling, tumbledown ruins. It was made of rough stone and had three deep lines carved down each side of its gap.
Andi stared at the archway and then slowly, deliberately, opened her sweaty hand, revealing the stone.
Almost too stunned to look, she forced her eyes down. The stone, just as long as her thumb and only a little wider, lay innocently in her palm.
She looked back at the archway; back at the stone; back at the archway...
There was no mistake, she wasn't going mad, the stone in her hand was an exact miniature of the archway standing in front of her.
In a daze she began walking towards the archway. She put her hand out to touch it. It was solid enough, she wasn't dreaming. She ran her hands down inside the carved ridges. She held the stone up in front of her as she walked through the archway to inspect the other side.
The stillness of the day was snatched away by a sudden chilling wind blowing with a force gale behind her. It whipped her hair over her face and her dress up around her thighs. Goose pimples raced to the surface of her skin and the sweat on her body immediately froze. There was a frightening sensation, rather like something were trying to rip her insides out through her navel. She gasped and grabbed at the side of the archway for support as her head started to spin and her knees began to give way.
Her last conscious, panicky thought was "there's no one around to help me..."
She felt nothing as her limp body fell to the ground.