Chapter 5
5
An hour later, Finn and Ben were walking under the bluest of cerulean skies towards the ancient, great grey standing stones. No matter how many times Finn visited the huge circle of stones, they never failed to strike a sense of awe into his soul. And somehow it was calming walking around the neolithic site, which had stood for what was believed to be more than 5,000 years.
It was two days after the summer solstice, when people came from all around the world to see the moment when the sun rose behind the heel stone in the north-east part of the horizon and shone into the heart of Stonehenge. It was a custom that must have gone on for centuries, and there was still evidence of the 15,000-strong current-day crowd that had gathered to welcome the daybreak this 21 June.
A litter picker in a fluorescent yellow jacket with a black bin liner called out a cheery good morning and Finn and Ben stopped to chat.
‘Need any help?’ Finn asked.
‘Thanks, but we’re on it,’ the man told them. ‘It’s actually not too bad. The event’s pretty organised these days, and most people are responsible.’
‘Can we come to the summer solstice one year, Dad?’ Ben begged.
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Can we dress up as penguins?’
‘Um…’
The litter picker laughed. ‘I think it’s pagans, not penguins, although I suppose you could dress up as a penguin. I’m sure no one would mind.’
Ben looked disappointed. ‘What’s a pagan, Dad?’
‘I think it means someone who doesn’t hold conventional religious beliefs?’ Finn looked at the litter picker for support.
‘That sounds about right. I think there are quite a few druids too.’
‘What’s a druid, Dad?’
‘I think they’re a kind of ancient priest. They wear white cloaks.’
The litter picker nodded in agreement and Finn glanced at Ben’s animated face. Luckily they had a whole year for Ben to forget he wanted to dress up as a pagan or a druid or indeed a penguin. Finn had no more desire to wear fancy dress than he had to put on a kilt. ‘Let’s go and take some pictures of the stones and we can think about it,’ he said diplomatically.
‘OK, Dad.’ Ben ran ahead of him and Finn tried to concentrate on why they were here as he took pictures from various angles on his phone. He sometimes brought his easel out to the landscapes he was painting, but it was good to have photos too so he could work from home. He wouldn’t just do one painting of Stonehenge. There would be several.
He rubbed his eyes, still feeling tired, as his mind flicked back to the conversation he’d had with his father last night. They’d been on their usual weekly catch-up when Finn had asked about the estranged family news item.
‘Dorrie thought I should send it,’ Ray had said gruffly, and Finn had heard the reluctance in his voice. ‘She’s got this idea you might want to trace your mother. I told her it was a waste of time. If your mother had wanted to stay in touch she’d have left me some means of contacting her.’
‘I know that, Dad.’ Finn had felt like he was traversing a field of unexploded mines. ‘And it’s no reflection on you, but I am curious about her.’
‘Well, the only thing I can tell you, lad, is her name. As you know, her family lived in Belfast. I doubt she’s got the same surname but for what it’s worth, it was Neale back then. Bridie Neale – and there must be a thousand of them in Northern Ireland. It will be like looking for a needle in a haystack.’
‘It’s better than nothing.’
‘There was a sister called Caitlin. Same story. She probably won’t have the same surname either.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’ Finn had changed the subject at that point, knowing it was unsettling his father. The only other thing he knew about his mother was that she was eleven years younger than Ray. Which would make her around fifty-five now.
It wasn’t much to go on, but it was a start.
Jade had still been out on a home visit when he’d finished speaking to his father, so Finn had gone onto an old Facebook account he’d set up years ago and typed in Bridie Neale. He’d quickly drawn a blank. None of them were in the right age bracket, at least as far as he could tell from their profile pictures. One or two didn’t have profile pictures. He’d considered sending an innocuous message to these, leaving his phone number, but what if they were bots or scammers? He didn’t fancy giving his phone number to a scammer.
When he’d typed in Caitlin Neale he’d had more luck. There were three Caitlin Neales and one of them lived in Belfast. She was the right age and it was the right area. Finn looked at her profile photo and decided she had kind eyes. It might not be her, but he knew he’d kick himself if he didn’t try. So he’d typed out a bland message saying he was trying to track down a friend in the area and thought she might be able to help. He’d read it through to check he wasn’t giving too much away and pressed send.
As soon as he’d done it, he’d had second thoughts. He really should have discussed it with Jade first. They talked about everything and this was a biggie. Bigger than him getting an agent. Possibly even bigger than them planning a wedding. On the other hand, if Caitlin didn’t answer there was no harm done. That would be the end of it.
He’d consoled himself with the fact he could tell Jade when she got in.
But she hadn’t got in until gone ten and Finn hadn’t wanted to start the conversation then. So in the end he had said nothing. It had seemed logical at the time. It wasn’t a conversation they could have in a hurry. But his subconscious mind clearly had other ideas. Guilt had invaded his dreams.
He hadn’t told her this morning either. There was never any time in the mornings for more than the briefest of conversations. Not that Caitlin had answered his message. So maybe he was putting himself through all this stress for nothing.
‘Daaaaad?’ Ben’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and judging by the thread of impatience, Finn realised it wasn’t the first time he’d spoken.
‘Sorry. I was miles away.’
‘I know.’ Ben rolled his eyes. ‘You’ve been staring at the stones for ages. Have we got enough photos yet? I’m getting hungry.’
‘We’d better go back to the car and fetch that picnic then, hadn’t we, son?’
‘Yay! Did you get cheese and onion crisps?’
‘I did, son.’
Ben beamed in delight and Finn swallowed his emotion. He felt an ache in his heart every time he said the word ‘son’. The more time he spent with Ben, the less able he was to understand how Bridie could have vanished so completely and utterly from his life.
He knew that half of him was hoping to find his mother alive and well and half of him was hoping he wouldn’t. Because if she was alive and well and had simply not bothered to contact him for all of these years, he didn’t think there was an explanation on earth that could convince him it had been worth all the heartbreak.
With a spike of insight, Finn realised suddenly that this was the real reason he hadn’t told Jade what he was doing. If there was no trace of Bridie then he could just rebury the past. But once he told Jade, then it all became real. So maybe on balance it really was better to wait until he knew what he was dealing with.
He and Ben laid out their picnic on the perfect spot Ben had found, not far from the car, in sight of the stones. Finn had got scotch eggs to go with the crisps and shop-bought sandwiches to save making them, and a handful of Ben’s favourite chocolate bars. A feast that neither Sarah nor Jade would have approved of on health grounds, but it didn’t hurt once in a while.
Treats were OK as long as they weren’t too often. Maybe that applied to old secrets too. Finn breathed a sigh of relief that he’d made a decision. Stonehenge had worked its magic. He wouldn’t tell Jade for now. There was no sense in both of them stressing about a message that might never be answered.
He looked at Ben, who’d got sidetracked from the food and was watching a beetle crawl across the worn-down grass. Finn couldn’t imagine a life without his son. It made the possibility of finding Bridie even more poignant, and yet even more painful if it came to nothing. Yes – the decision he’d made was the right one for now.
He had no more insight into what the future held than the ancient people who’d positioned these stones must have done, he thought as he glanced over at the heel stone silhouetted starkly against the deep blue June sky.
The only certainty was that, like those ancient people, Finn hoped there would be another sunrise. Another blank canvas on which to paint a picture. Another day to unravel whatever the fates had in store.