Stone of Destiny (13 page)

At last there was a muffled thud from behind the hoarding. The constable stopped speaking, tense, intent, listening. My heart thudded, and I swallowed a dry tongue. Kay’s hand became rigid in mine. Then the constable laughed and said, ‘That was the old watchman falling down the stairs,’ and Kay and I laughed also; loudly we laughed at the idea of an old man falling down stairs. Surely they would hear us now.

‘I wish it was six o’clock,’ said the policeman, ‘and then I would be off duty.’

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the door of the hoarding
slowly opening. Gavin’s face appeared, followed by his head and shoulders. Suddenly he froze. He had seen the policeman. Inch by inch he edged back, and inch by inch the door closed behind him. The policeman finished his cigarette, and put on his helmet. ‘You’d better be going now,’ he said.

‘We had,’ I said, trying to keep the fervour out of my voice.

‘Will you show us the way?’ Kay asked, trying to get him off the premises.

‘Oh, you can’t miss the car park,’ he said, and redirected us.

Kay started the engine, and drove us off down the lane, leaving the policeman behind us. He had not asked for her licence, nor for any form of identification from me. He had asked for no papers of any kind. So far as we knew, he had not noted the car number, but it was too much to expect that he had not memorised it, or at least some of it. And some of it would be enough, since there were not many cars on the road at that time of the morning, and later on Christmas Day the roads would not be busy. Christmas was a time for home keeping. We reached Old Palace Yard, and Kay put her toe down.

As she drove, I reflected on what to do next. We had won away with part of the Stone, and even part of it was success. It was enough to make our point. We could not be expected to do more, and if we could get this part home it was more than anyone had done before us. A quick bolt to hide this bit somewhere seemed to be the sensible thing to do. No one could blame us for calling it quits.

Yet quits it was not. The greater part of the Stone still lay with our two friends in the mason’s yard. Somehow we must get back, and collect it, and get it into hiding. Meanwhile, the Anglia was a dangerous car. Both cars were dangerous, but of the two, the Anglia was the one more closely connected with the Abbey. As soon as the hue and cry was raised it would be stopped and its driver arrested. Ungallant as it was, Kay would have to be the one to take the greater risk, and go on with the
Anglia, while I went back to the Abbey to try to get the larger part of the Stone.

As she pulled the car into the car park, it became apparent that risk was a consideration that did not weigh at all with Kay. Going on alone was no job at all for anyone, because in that car it meant almost certain arrest, and with the bit of the Stone in the back it would be a situation which no amount of talking would explain. However, it was the best we could do, and my thoughts were already turning back to the Abbey, where we had left Gavin and Alan, and our friend the policeman. Kay had a friend in the Midlands, and she was sure that she would help her. We were clutching at straws. Bales and bales of it, had we but known, for every Scot in the world was with us, but there was no one there to tell us.

The job was half done, and it had to be finished. The policeman had said that he went off duty at six o’clock, and from his casual conversation I rather thought that he would spend the last half-hour of his shift smoking in one of the police boxes that were dotted here and there about the great cities for the police to take rest periods in. If I delayed, there was less chance of meeting him again with the other car in the same lane. But I had to strike a balance. Very shortly the nightwatchman would go on his rounds, and discover that the Stone was missing. I would have to slot myself in before that. There was just time to put Kay onto the road to Victoria, and it would be quicker if I were to lead her there in the other car. I knew London better than she did, and once I had set her on her way I could drive back to the Abbey and pick up the other part of the Stone. It would be as simple as that. I got out of the Anglia, and felt through my pockets for the keys to the other car.

Car keys are a curse. They keep more owners out of cars than they do thieves. I hunted through all the pockets in my jacket, and then through my trouser pockets, and then back to my jacket again, and then to my horror I remembered that I had put the
keys safely into my coat pocket which I had taken off in the Abbey as a sledge for the Stone. The keys would still be with the two boys there. If I were to help Kay and get back to the Abbey in time, I would have to run.

First I put on Alan’s old coat, which I had so recently and in such desperate circumstances laid over the bit of the Stone to cover it from the eye of the policeman. The coat fitted me more or less, though there was a shortage of buttons down the front. It was a rough disguise, for when we had talked to the policeman I had been coatless. Then I lifted the bit of the Stone into the boot, where it would be less conspicuous. All this was accomplished in a few seconds, and without another backward glance we drove out of the car park and into the maze of side streets beside the Abbey. At length we came to a set of traffic lights. This, I was certain, was Victoria. I stopped the car and got out.

‘You’re on your own from now on,’ I said. ‘Go that way,’ and for the benefit of a passer-by, I kissed her on the cheek. ‘It’s been a lovely party, darling,’ I added. Her eyes flashed appreciation of the irony, and she drove off.

She told me later that she had only driven 500 yards before she had to stop again at traffic lights. As she pulled away, the lid of the boot flew open and her part of the Stone fell out onto the road. She stopped and lifted something approaching her own weight back into the boot, and drove off again and reached safety.

I’m not proud of everything I did that night. First of all losing the car keys, and then not fastening the car boot, for any sake! I was living life with such an incandescent intensity that I very nearly bungled it all. But Kay came through the whole adventure as a person of utter courage and calm, without blemish whatsoever.

Kay’s departure left me standing in that London street, but I did not feel alone. Abbey fever had me in its grip again, and I started to run. Then I slowed to a walk, for a running man in an empty street arouses suspicion, and I had far too much to do to wish to cause another incident. As I hurried with all the slowness at my command, I glanced at my watch and discovered it was no longer on my wrist. Later I found out that it had burst away when I had been tugging at the Stone in the Abbey. It had been a present to my father when he retired as session clerk of our local Church of Scotland, and it was to remain one of the great unsolved clues left for the police.

Clue for the police it was, but it left me only with my own estimate of time, and things were getting very tight. At first I was not sure where I was, but my frequent reconnaissance now stood me in good stead, and soon I found myself in familiar surroundings. I hoped that Kay was not too lost. Near the square I passed a policeman. I kept my head well down lest it was our friend. If it was, then the coat was a good disguise, because he went his way, longing no doubt for six o’clock and dreaming of promotion. A little quiver of compassion shot through me for the unfortunate fellow. He would have a lot of explaining to do to his superiors.

I circled the Abbey. When I came to the east side, I slowed to a troubled stroll. Everything was unnaturally quiet. I could
scarcely believe it. It was either a trap or another chance, and if it was a chance I was willing to take it. As I rounded the snub nose of Henry VII’s Chapel there was no one in sight, so I swung straight into the lane, and passed through the door into the mason’s yard.

There was no one there. The place was in black darkness. I stood for a moment stock still, listening to the utter silence. Even the sounds of the night had gone. The Stone lay at my feet. I could feel it, but of Alan and Gavin there was no sign. They must be in hiding.

‘Alan! Gavin!’ I called in a whisper.

The whole night seemed to quiver with my voice, but not an echo replied. Fear ran a feather over my hair.

I shook myself and moved up through the dark sheds. They might be in hiding in the Abbey. I eased open the door to Poets’ Corner and went in. The light still glowed at the far end of the nave. I risked a breathless whistle. There was no response.

I retraced my steps and looked for my coat. I searched in the dark for it, but I could not find it. My coat and my two friends had been swallowed up by the night. This time I was not only alone. I was unutterably lonely.

It came to me in a rush, and I was out of the yard, closing the door behind me. I swung into Old Palace Yard, and exchanged a bluff Merry Christmas with an early riser. As soon as he was out of sight, I broke into a trot. The other two would be waiting for me in the car park.

I reached the car park. The old Ford was still there, dirty as ever, but no human being was in sight. As I lacked the knowledge to start it without the key, it was so much junk. I was new to cars. I sat on the wing of the car and lit a cigarette. There was nothing more I could do. At such times you don’t philosophise. I don’t anyway. I can scarcely think. Yet I thought a little, and felt pretty bitter about it all. Success had been ours and we had failed to grasp it. We had got the Stone to the very edge of freedom, and
luck, which had flowed so generously towards us, had started to ebb. I drew the smoke and it tasted like sand. We would be laughed at in Scotland and jailed in England, and we deserved to be, as we had been beaten.

I threw away my cigarette and broke into a run back to the Abbey. This time I was not worried about being conspicuous. There was no time for that. The chance was so slim that I was a fool to try it, yet in my mind there had been such faith that I did not for a moment think that success would elude us.

As I ran I thought. The keys of the car had been in my coat pocket. Presumably Alan and Gavin had looked for the keys in the coat pocket and had not found them. If they had, they would have taken the car. The car was still there. Therefore Alan and Gavin did not have the keys. The plaque which I had put in my pocket had been pulled out when we were dragging the Stone. Perhaps the keys had fallen out also. Perhaps if I went back into the Abbey and searched I would find them. Perhaps. I reached the Abbey and went in for the fourth time that night.

I had left my torch with Kay, so I was sightless. On my hands and knees I groped along the route we had taken until I reached the altar steps. Then I remembered my matches and by the flickering light of a match held in my hand, I retraced my steps. In that vast darkness the light lit nothing but myself, but I persisted until the matchbox was nearly empty. Suddenly near the door I put my foot on something uneven. I bent down and picked up the keys. The ring had been flattened by the passage of a heavy weight, but the keys were undamaged.

I ran back all the way to the car. If my calculations of time were correct, the nightwatchman would be starting his rounds soon. The car battery was flat, but I took out the starting-handle and swung the engine over by hand. In spite of the cold it started on the first pull. I raced the engine furiously to warm it, since I did not dare to have it stall on me and not restart. I’d have given up then. I pulled out of the car park and along into Old Palace Yard.
There were two policemen at the door to the Houses of Parliament under St Stephen’s Tower. Things were waking up, and already there were some pedestrians around, but I had to take my chance. The nightwatchman would start his rounds at any time now. I did not know the time, but I knew it was running out for me. I swung the car boldly into the lane in full sight of the policemen.

In the lane I did not bother to switch off the car lights; subterfuge was now useless. I backed up as fast as I could, and in my excitement smacked the hoarding heavily with the wing of the car. I had no very clear idea of what I was going to do, except that I was going to get the Stone into the car and drive away with it. Sometimes life’s that simple.

The Stone was still lying where the other two had left it. I caught hold of it by one end and dragged it to the car. I do not recall having any difficulty. I raised it up on its good end so that it stood near the car, and then I walked it, corner by rocking corner, to the car door and tipped one end in. The car came down with a crash onto its springs, and I thought for a moment it was going to beetle over on top of me. I got hold of the end that was still on the ground and lifted it mightily until it passed top dead centre, when it fell, with another fearful crash, into the car. I followed it in, and lifted it bodily onto the back seat. Then I took off Alan’s coat and covered it up and went back into the driving seat and drove away down the lane.

I drove down the lane as Andrew Hyslop, the nightwatchman, was telephoning the police to report his loss. I did not know that then, but it would have made no difference to me.

I was a young man. We had so very, very nearly been defeated on so many occasions, but we had persisted. It was a lovely victory, but I was too elated to be proud. That would come later, and it has never left me. I shouted and sang. Let them take me now and all Scotland would be at my back, not that I cared then and I still don’t care. I never have. A nation’s soul is in its people’s
keeping. In the keeping of each one of us, day and daily, wherever we are, and whatever we do. For an instant that morning I felt that it was in mine alone. I hoped that Kay would feel the same.