‘Oh, Marie-Claire aren’t those bridges a wonderful sight?’ Imelda was bubbling with excitement as the commuter plane made its descent over the Firth of Forth towards Edinburgh airport. At her granddaughter’s suggestion – once Imelda had seen how smoothly the much-dreaded propeller plane flew and her fears had subsided – they had changed seats so that Imelda could see the stunning scenery as they flew east over Scotland. On the other side of the aisle, Brigid was equally absorbed in the views below them. Keelin and Marie-Claire smiled at each other like two co-conspirators.

Less than half an hour later, they were sitting in an extremely comfortable hired Peugeot SUV, cases stowed in the boot, and Marie-Claire was setting the route they were taking into the satnav. ‘Right, Rosslyn Chapel here we come,’ she exclaimed gaily, and a ripple of excitement spread through the car.

‘I’ve longed to go to back to Rosslyn for so long,’ Keelin exclaimed from the back seat, where she was sitting with her mother.

‘But it’s not a Catholic church anymore, is it?’ Imelda said doubtfully. To tell the truth, she was a little fearful of stepping into the strange church that Keelin and Marie-Claire spoke about so reverently. The stuff they believed in was difficult to credit – it was the one thing she and Brigid agreed upon – but a small part of her, the adventurous and to-hell-with-it part that she’d only lately discovered in herself, was eager for new adventures. Would she feel vortexes and ley lines and see beyond to another dimension, like she’d read about in one of Keelin’s books? Apparently, Rosslyn was no ordinary chapel.

‘It’s not Catholic now, Mam. It originated as a Catholic church in the mid-fifteenth century, but after the Scottish Reformation, Roman Catholic worship was ended and the chapel was closed to the public until it was reopened as a Scottish Episcopal church. Anglicans,’ she explained. ‘It remains privately owned still.’

‘Well as far as I’m concerned, if it started out Catholic, it still is,’ Imelda declared.

‘And what’s your esoteric view of it, Keelin?’ Brigid, who had hopped into the front without being asked, turned back to look at her niece.

‘Some things are only visible to those that have eyes to see. You know the way I work with the tuning forks with the Solfeggio Frequencies that I use in my healing sessions? Rosslyn Chapel is located on top of a vortex and a specific crossing of ley lines, which in my opinion makes it a gigantic frequency generator. I think this place was created to preserve an ancient library of information. When the Masons – as in the Freemasons, guardians of esoteric knowledge – found themselves called in to this magical location, they took advantage of the opportunity and created a virtual library, hidden in plain view. The Solfeggio Frequencies, the semitones, are embedded in the cube sequence on the ceiling—’