Macbeth

An address. There was a Tannery Street in town, but no District 6. And there was only one other town that was divided into districts. Capitol. When could this note have been written? He had no idea how long it took for an impression made by a pencil to disappear. And what did it mean by Safe haven ?

Duff switched off the light and closed his eyes. A little nap maybe?

Capitol. Friday. He had seen this combination somewhere quite recently.

Duff was slipping into a dream with associations to the two words when he woke with a start.

He switched the light back on.

23

‘Meredith and I are getting married,’ Duff said. A sun seemed to be shining out of his eyes.

‘Really? That was... erm quick.’

‘Yes! Will you be my best man, Macbeth?’

‘Me?’

‘Of course. Who else?’

‘Erm. When...?’

‘Sixth of July. At Meredith’s parents’ summer place. Everything’s sorted. Invitations were sent out today.’

‘It’s kind of you to ask, Duff. I’ll give it some thought.’

‘Thought?’

‘I’ve... planned a longish trip in July. July’s difficult for me, Duff.’

‘Trip? You didn’t say anything about this to me.’

‘No, I might not have done.’

‘But then we haven’t spoken for a while. Where have you been? Meredith was asking after you.’

‘Was she? Oh, here and there. Been a bit busy.’

‘And where will this trip take you?’

‘To Capitol.’

‘Capitol?’

‘Yes, I’ve... erm never been there. Time to see our capital, isn’t it? It’s supposed to be so much nicer than here.’

‘Listen to me now, my dear Macbeth. I’ll pay for a return air ticket from Capitol. Can’t have my best pal not being there when I get married. It’ll be the party of the year! Imagine all Meredith’s single girlfriends...’

‘And from Capitol I’m going abroad. It’s a long trip, Duff. I’ll probably be away all July.’

‘But... Has this got anything to do with the little flirtation you and Meredith had once?’

‘So if we don’t see each other for a bit, all the best with the wedding and... well, everything.’

‘Macbeth!’

‘Thanks, Duff, but I won’t forget I owe you dragon blood. Say hello to Meredith and thank her for the little flirtation.’

‘Macbeth, sir!’

Macbeth opened his eyes. He was lying in bed. A dream. Nevertheless. Were those the words they had used then? Dragon blood. Lorreal. Had he really said that?

‘Macbeth!?’

The voice came from the other side of the bedroom door and now it was accompanied by frenetic banging. He looked at the clock on the bedside table. Three o’clock in the morning.

‘Sir, it’s Jack!’

Macbeth turned the other way. He was alone. Lady wasn’t there.

‘Sir, you have to—’

Macbeth tore open the door. ‘What’s up, Jack?’

‘She’s sleepwalking.’

‘So? Aren’t you keeping an eye on her?’

‘It’s different this time, sir. She... You’ve got to come.’

Macbeth yawned, switched on the light, donned a dressing gown and was about to leave the room when his gaze fell on the table under the mirror. The shoebox was gone.

‘Quick. Show me the way, Jack.’

They found her on the roof. Jack paused on the threshold of the open metal door. It had stopped raining, and all that could be heard was the wind and the regular rumble of the traffic that never slept. She was standing right on the edge, in the light of the Bacardi sign, with her back to them. A gust of wind caught her thin nightdress.

‘Lady!’ Macbeth said and was about to rush over to her, but Jack held him back. ‘The psychiatrist said she mustn’t be woken up when she’s sleepwalking, sir.’

‘But she could fall over the edge!’

‘She often comes up here and stands just there,’ Jack said. ‘She can see even if she’s asleep. The psychiatrist says sleepwalkers rarely come to harm, but if you wake them they can become disorientated and hurt themselves.’

‘Why has no one told me she comes up here? I’ve been given the impression she basically strolls up and down the corridor.’

‘She told me in no uncertain terms that I was not to say what she does in her sleep, sir.’

‘And what does she do?’

‘Sometimes she strolls up and down the corridor as you say. Otherwise she goes into the washroom and uses the strong soap there. Scrubs her hands, occasionally until her skin goes red. Then she comes up on the roof.’

Macbeth looked at her. His beloved Lady. So exposed and vulnerable out in the wind-blown night. So alone in the darkness of her mind, the darkness she had told him about but where she couldn’t take him. There was nothing he could do. Just wait and hope she would choose to come back in from the night. So near and so out of reach.

‘What makes you think she might take her life tonight?’

Jack glanced at Macbeth in surprise. ‘I don’t think she will, sir.’

‘So what was it then, Jack?’

‘What was what, sir?’

‘What made you so worried that you called me?’

At that moment the moonlight broke through a gap in the cloud. And as if at an agreed signal Lady turned and walked towards them.

‘That, sir.’

‘God help us,’ Macbeth whispered and hurriedly took a step back.