Lynda Plante: The Talisman

They both stood close to the jetty, right at the water’s edge. From there they watched, knowing that any moment the flames would begin to show. They could see the black, curling smoke; had seen it for almost ten minutes.

It exploded like a bomb. The boom! as it caught the heart of the house could be heard for miles around, but they did not leave until they were sure that the fire was unquenchable. Edward Barkley’s soul burned.

Alex struck the wood of the coffin lid. From his pocket he took the two medallions — his own and Edward’s. He laid them, with their chains, on the coffin in the sign of a cross. The gold talisman was given at last to the grave.

When he had shovelled back the earth, he knelt in prayer. ‘Rest in peace, Freedom, peace be with you both. It’s over, Edward, it’s over now.’

As he walked away from the grave he felt the oppressive weight lift from his shoulders. It was as if it had always been there — but now he felt light, he was free.

Evelyn was waiting at the gates of his small, rented farmhouse. He had been waiting ever since Juliana had called, even though he knew it would take at least four or five hours for them to get to him, sitting impatiently on the five-barred gate.

The Rolls-Royce sparkled in the early morning sun as it came over the hilltop and along the small country lanes. Evelyn ran to meet it, shouting, arms held wide.

Alex stepped out of the car, hesitant at first, then sprinted the last few yards to his son and clasped him in his arms. Overcome with emotion he fumbled in his pocket for a handkerchief, then gave up and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

‘Some tycoon, eh? Crying like a baby... You know, this is the first time I’ve ever wept because... because I’m happy. Will you come home?’

Juliana stepped from the car. There was such a gentleness about Evelyn, such a genuine warmth, that Juliana threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. His response was a little bemused, but then he tilted his head back and laughed his wonderful laugh...

Alex shouted, pointing across the fields between the hills. His delight showed in his face like a child’s as he said, ‘It’s the mountain, it’s the mountain... It’s my mountain!’

Rising up against the brilliant dawn sky, lit by the bright sun, was the mountain from his dreams that had always been beyond his reach, that the black rider had leapt, passing by the outstretched hand of the young boy. Now it was before him, no longer a dream but tangible, real, waiting and beckoning him to climb to the very top. He turned to them, his face shining, more alive than either of them had ever seen him. The years seemed to drop away and his handsome face was youthful, vibrant, and his clear blue eyes were those of a young boy.

‘I want to climb that, go right to the top.’

They stood together at the very top of the mountain, their arms linked. Alex gently brushed Juliana’s cheek with his hand. She opened her eyes and they both looked at Evelyn.

He too held his face, as they had done, to the sky. They were transfixed, mesmerized by him — he was in a world of his own, his eyes closed, his long, dark lashes shadowing his cheeks. His hair flew in the wind... Slowly, he lifted his arms and breathed in the sweet, clear air and smiled, his perfect face softening as he whispered, ‘Freedom...’

The whisper echoed round the mountain, and he opened his eyes and laughed.

Alex felt as though his heart would burst. He was at the top of his mountain and, even if Evelyn hadn’t meant to say his grandfather’s name, it was the culmination of his dream. It no longer mattered that the boy was of Edward’s blood, because their blood was one. They were bound together, and at last had come together in peace. He reached out and took their hands, whispering joyously, ‘I am a lucky man.’ Then he lifted their arms high and shouted to the mountain, ‘Freedom... Freedom... Freeeeeedooooooooommmmm...’