Consequences Unforeseen

Notre Dame Paris 1959 and 1299 - The Douglas

Folks – this is the continuation of part 16 – Israel 1982 & Scotland 1959. it takes you further back in time, so you might want to read part 16 once more to refresh your memory J

 

Paris 1959 – The Douglas

The Douglas and Shona walked hand in hand on the Champs Elysees. Eight and nine years old and they were in love! Bill’s Uncle John just shook his head and her father just accepted it. They were way too young for him to have any fear or trepidation that his daughter was in any danger… and as he thought this to himself he just chuckled.

He knew deep in his soul that this girl of his was going to be trouble, big time, as she got older. For now though he felt secure. Big John Douglas just grinned at the smitten boy and saw that nothing he could say would alter the outcome in any way. This girl and her father were world travelers and the relationship such as it was, was certain to end in tears. Deep in his innermost instincts though was this gut feeling these two were in for a complex set of interactions down the years. He gave a slight shiver and quickly came back to the present lively evening

Bill Douglas couldn’t have cared less. He held her hand tight and just enjoyed the night. Shona was completely entranced with the sights, sounds and smells washing every one of her senses and she knew that this boy would follow her endlessly. The music of the Paris night was heady and strong coming from the bars and restaurants and the two older gentlemen frequently stopped to go in to several of them for a glass of brandy or two. The kids would have endless French fries and cola and sing along to whatever was playing in the background..

They wandered back down from the Arc de Triomphe by the fairy light adorned Avenue de Wagram. Every tree lining this street was decked in small white lights which glistened in the eyes of the kids making starry light beams in the misty moist air.

Their hotel was on this Avenue, the small but stately Hotel Ceramic, but they continued on down towards the Place des Ternes and one of their favorite eating places in Paris. Not one of the fine dining and expensive places, but a cozy, fire lit brasserie right on the Place itself.

The Brasserie Lorraine was bustling as usual and the kids ordered ‘steak frites’ as the gentlemen had snails and Rhone wine to wash them down. The talk was of the Holy Land, the Saracens and the Knights Templar. Strangely the Douglas and his young girlfriend never tired of these tales from the past and encouraged the dialog late into the night. It allowed them to remain up and out and presented them with more time in each other’s company.

Two days ago they finished their ‘tour’ of the French capital and sung their hearts out in Notre Dame Cathedral. This place was indelibly ingrained into Bill Douglas’ mind. It had struck him like a blow to the head as he entered the place and the hair prickled on his scalp. He felt that he could see into the darkest of its corners and nooks and crannies and that he knew every inch of it intimately. His Uncle John was always telling him stories from way back in time about how his ancestor the Black Douglas had lived in Paris in or around the 1290’s or very early 1300’s and had made his mark in this very Cathedral.

Big John was not certain of the exact events or outcomes, but he told the story well enough with embellishments of his own that the boy had been looking forward to being in Notre Dame for a long time. His Uncle had said before they got there “Ye’ll feel the ‘ghosties’ in there so ye will.” And the Douglas did. His mind wandered continuously and the teacher and conductor was always pulling him back to focus on the “Butterfly” – the song they were there to sing.

After their performance he wandered off and without conscious thought arrived deep in the bowels of the building. There was scant light from the wall candles and the air had that ancient texture of musk, mold and decay. He felt totally at home and explored the cavernous space which in some ways seemed to replicate the main Church far above him. The symbols etched into the concrete and pillars were different though. Not specifically Catholic in nature, they looked to be more generic with the rose being prominent and many actual faces looking accusingly down from the walls.