There’s only one thing that old Master Chalmers knew how to grow in the family garden: puzzlement. When he dies in 1511, his two grandchildren can’t believe their ears when they have old Chalmers’ will read out to them: Elizabeth receives an iron padlock, while Thomas inherits the family prayer book with the silver clasp decorated with the Chalmers coat of arms.
Elizabeth sits for a long time with the padlock and fidgets with its key. The lock fits in the palm of her hand. It’s rounded and decorated with a wavy pattern, like lighting, while the key is unadorned. Her grandfather must have imagined her growing up and wanting her jewellery box securely sealed. Is this my legacy? she wonders. Locking things away to never be seen? Was it not I who read from that very prayer book to my grandfather and little brother every night? Is it because I’m a girl that he assumes I want to keep secrets more than I want to read and pray?
Thomas sits in his own corner of the room, mindlessly turning from page to page. The roaring lion on the coat of arms is reaching out its paws to catch him. A family heirloom, entrusted to him. As usual, the letters get mixed up before his eyes and he can feel a headache coming on. I must be a grown man now, he thinks, if I’m supposed to learn all the things my sister does, and do them better. He sighs.
As if brought together by a pair of invisible hands, the siblings get up and meet in the middle of the room. Still silent, they exchange the goods so that the prayer book is in Elizabeth’s hands and the padlock and key in Thomas’. They nod at each other. No one will know.
aberdeen registers 