Time’s Legacy

10

Romanus was sharpening his old knife, honing the blade with intense concentration when Flavius sat down beside him on the fallen log overlooking the eel traps. ‘Good weapon that,’ he said with a friendly grin. ‘You are quite the hunter, I hear.’

Romanus blushed. ‘I enjoy it. I’m good at it.’

‘And you are a fisherman too, I would guess?’

Romanus shrugged.

‘Do you have your own boat?’

‘We have three dugout canoes. Down there. I can take any of them if I want.’

‘And you go across to the island quite often?’

Romanus nodded. ‘I like it there.’

‘That is where the healer lives, who treats your sister?’

‘Mora. She’s nice.’ The blushed deepened. Flavius noticed. He grinned. ‘She sounds a very special person. I look forward to meeting her. Your poor sister seems to suffer very badly. Do they know what it is that ails her?’

Romanus sighed. ‘Mora says it is quite common round here. The damp from the meres and fens and the lake gets into the bones. It’s old people who usually get it, but when someone young like Petra does it is ten times worse. Poor Petra suffers so badly in the winter she cries sometimes for days.’

Flavius looked concerned. ‘Would it not be wiser to move to a land where the sun shines all winter?’

Romanus stared at him. ‘I didn’t know such places existed.’

‘Of course they do. Where do you think your sister was born?’

Romanus bit his lip. ‘They don’t talk much about where they lived before we came here.’ He sighed. ‘I’d like to travel like my father used to. It sounds exciting.’

‘It is exciting.’ Flavius gave the boy an appraising look. Climbing to his feet he looked down at him. ‘Right, so would this be a good time for you to take me across to Afalon in your boat? Perhaps if Mora is there you can introduce me. I would like to see a girl who can bring such a sparkle to a young man’s eyes.’ He slapped Romanus on the back playfully. ‘Then tonight perhaps I can tell you some stories about life in the hot countries of the world. It might surprise Petra to know they even exist. She was much too young when your parents left Damascus to remember it. And they don’t appear to have told you anything. My guess is that it is because she was born in a different country to a different life, that Petra is so susceptible to the mists and damp of this godforsaken land.’

The smallest of the dugout canoes was a two-seater, narrow and unstable, but fast. Pushing it out onto the shallow waters of the mere Romanus hopped in and took the paddle. Flavius was seated in front of him, staring ahead at the island with its cluster of small hills, the tallest and strangest a cone shape reaching up towards the racing clouds.

Romanus steered deftly between the shallow patches of reed and mud, following the course of a deeper channel all but invisible to the untrained eye. The waters were rich in birdlife and Flavius noted ripples where fish swam in shoals beneath the surface. Two men fishing in the distance raised their hands as they went past; a beaver swam swiftly away from them, its nose cleaving the water leaving a sharp V-shaped ripple on the water.

Romanus aimed for a landing stage where several other boats lay pulled up on the mud and they climbed out aware of the freshening wind tugging at their hair. ‘How many people live here?’ Flavius asked as he stared round. There was a fair-sized settlement here on the lower slopes of the nearest hill. He could see signs of other habitations above the trees as smoke rose and streamed in torn white wisps towards the east. Everywhere there were apple trees and he could smell the sweet-sour scent of cider presses.

Romanus shrugged. ‘There are a lot of people here. There’s a village further along the shore called Treglas. Then the druids have many students; this is a sacred island. Up there,’ he pointed towards the highest point, ‘that’s the Tor. There is a sanctuary there where no-one can go but the highest of the initiates. The healers live in a village about a mile from here, along this track.’ He waved his arm towards the west. Already he was setting off but Flavius caught his shoulder. ‘Wait. How do you know Mora will be there?’

‘I don’t. I go to her house. If she’s not there someone usually knows where she is.’

Flavius was thoughtful for a moment, then he shrugged. ‘Lead the way.’

They passed several men and women who greeted them in a friendly manner. No-one seemed surprised to see Romanus or queried his companion. Presumably they knew the boy, and knew he was of Roman descent, not least because of his stupid presumptuous name. Because of that, presumably, any stranger with him was accepted without question. Flavius snorted to himself. The place was populated. He was not going to be able to walk in and despatch his victim openly. First find him, make sure he had the right man, then he could decide what to do once he had located him and spied out the land. After all the young man had no way of knowing that anyone was after him. Romanus had set off up a hillside track. Light-footed and fit, the boy was drawing away. Flavius swore quietly under his breath and hurried to catch up with him.

A blackbird flew out of the bushes, uttering a sharp alarm call. Romanus stopped and looked back. He frowned. ‘Am I going too fast?’

Flavius smiled. ‘No. I’m a soldier, remember. Fit as a flea, me!’

Mora was outside her house, standing in front of a small table, which was laden with bags of herbs. She looked up as Romanus appeared and smiled at him in welcome. Her gaze moved beyond him to Flavius and her smile died on her lips. ‘Who is this, Romanus?’

‘My uncle, Flavius. He wanted to visit the island and we thought we could come and collect Mora’s medicine to save you the journey.’

Mora frowned. ‘But I went to see Petra yesterday, didn’t she tell you? I took the medicine with me.’

There was a moment’s silence. Romanus looked confused. ‘Petra never said.’

‘Indeed she didn’t,’ Flavius added after a moment. He scowled. ‘How very odd that no-one mentioned it. I take it you saw Lydia and my brother?’

Mora held his gaze. Her eyes were a deep grey-blue and he felt them probing his very soul. ‘I saw Lydia. Your brother wasn’t there.’

‘Did you go alone?’ He folded his arms.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘No reason. It seems to me a long way to paddle a canoe on your own.’ As if realising that he was alienating her with his confrontational questions he relaxed with a broad smile. ‘This young man ferried me over just now. I was very impressed with his stamina. I’m not sure many young Roman lads could paddle so swiftly and so strongly at his age.’

She turned back to her table and reached for a bag of herbs. ‘How strange. Our young people do it all the time. As do our womenfolk.’ She gave him a swift, cold smile.

He nodded graciously. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.’

Romanus looked from his uncle to Mora and back uncomfortably. He didn’t understand this sudden atmosphere of hostility between them. ‘I expect Cynan was with you, wasn’t he?’ he asked helpfully.

‘Cynan?’ Flavius was watching her hands as she pulled out a wad of dry green leaves.

‘My colleague. Yes, he did go with me, as it happened.’

‘And who is Cynan? Does he come from a local tribe?’

‘Oh yes, his father is one of the druids,’ Romanus put in helpfully. ‘Cynan taught me how to whistle up the shore birds.’

‘So, you know him as well as you know Mora here?’

‘You seem very interested in my companion?’ Mora said after a moment.

Flavius smiled. ‘Forgive me. I am interested in this whole place. It seems very special. I had heard about it long before I arrived here. I gather people come from all over the Empire to study here.’

‘The Empire, where to be a druid is an offence punishable by death?’ Mora said quietly. ‘Have you come to spy on us, sir?’

Just for a moment he looked taken aback but then he was smiling again, all honesty and directness. ‘Of course not. The ban, as you must know, is largely directed at the wild men of Gaul who plot and intrigue against the Emperor. They were given their chance to come into line but they refused. Here I gather the studies of your druid schools are directed towards peace and healing. Besides, this place is not part of the Empire yet.’

Mora gazed at him. Something was wrong; she could sense him veiling his mind from her as he studied her face with his wide eyes and his disingenuous expression.

‘You expect us to be a part of the Empire one day?’

He shrugged eloquently. ‘I think it likely. Why would a small group of isles on the edge of the world want to be independent of the Empire? We bring too many benefits to the peoples we rule. Wealth. Peace. Strength against the barbarian hoards.’

She gave a quiet laugh. ‘I fear we are the barbarian hoards.’ She turned to her herbs once more. ‘Since I have already delivered Petra’s medicine, Romanus, your journey was unnecessary, I’m sorry.’ She glanced up at the boy with a gentle smile.

He met her gaze anxiously, then glanced at Flavius, eager to help him. ‘My uncle wants to meet your student, Mora.’

‘Indeed.’ Her glance flashed back to Flavius. ‘Well, I’m afraid he is out of luck. My student is away on an errand on the mainland. I doubt if he will return for several days.’

Flavius drew his cloak around him as a cold breeze fingered its way through the woodland around her house. ‘I am sorry to hear that. It would have interested me to find out how far some of your students have come and why they chose this place. Perhaps I will have the chance to meet him another time.’

Mora inclined her head. She could sense danger here and she wasn’t sure why. Gaius was a friend. He and his wife were a part of the community. People liked and trusted them, but this man, Gaius’s brother, was a different matter. There was no transparency in his gaze. The wind blew again, a gentle cold warning, touching her cheek. The gods were whispering to her to beware.

Janet Cavendish showed Kier into the sitting room with a tight smile. ‘I’ll tell Ben you are here. He’s working on his sermon.’ She pulled the door closed behind her and made her way to Ben’s study. ‘The evil seducer is here,’ she whispered. ‘He’s rather good-looking.’

Ben stared at her blankly.

‘You know!’ she went on. ‘Abi Rutherford’s lovelorn swain. Whichever way you think of him he is here in the sitting room and he wants to see you.’

Ben stood up. ‘How did he know about me? Who gave him this address?’

Janet shrugged. ‘I didn’t hang around to cross question him. That’s your job. Shall I bring tea?’

Ben sighed. ‘You may as well.’

The fire had not been lit. The room was warm enough but without the companionable crackle of logs in the grate it seemed to lack life and Ben wondered briefly why Janet hadn’t brought the man straight into his study as she would most visitors. He held out his hand to his guest and gestured him to a chair, then he went over to the log basket. He reached for a fire lighter, piled up a few birch logs and felt in his pocket for a box of matches. ‘So, Mr Scott, how can I help you?’

‘I’ve come to talk about Abi.’ Kier sat back in his chair; outwardly at least he seemed relaxed and calm. ‘How is she?’

‘She is well.’ Ben sat down opposite him. In this room Janet had chosen a predominantly pale yellow design for the furnishings. The curtains were flowered with stylised primroses and soft ferns, the chairs a corded light mustard. It was a comfortable room, designed to reassure and uplift. ‘May I ask who told you she was in Somerset, Mr Scott? This information was supposed to have been kept confidential.’ Flames were licking greedily over the logs now. There were one or two sharp cracks as they grew hot.

Kier looked him straight in the eye. ‘Her father told me. Professor Rutherford is as concerned as I am that the Church is not behaving in a responsible and open manner. In fact, I think the bishop’s actions in this case have been grossly reprehensible. He has used some remote family connection to give him the excuse for meddling in affairs which don’t concern him at all.’

Ben sat back and crossed his legs casually as he surveyed the other man. Kier was dressed in smart brown cords with a rust-coloured sweater over an open-necked checked shirt. There was a silver chain round his neck; Ben could not see what hung from it. Probably a cross, he supposed, but outwardly nothing about the man’s appearance betrayed the fact that he was a clergyman.

Aware of Ben’s scrutiny, Kier lifted his hand restlessly and brushed his hair back from his forehead. Then he sat forward in the chair, his elbows on his knees. ‘I expect you have been given some kind of garbled fabrication of what happened between Abi and myself?’

‘I have heard Abi’s version of the story, certainly,’ Ben said carefully. ‘But what happened between you and Abi, Mr Scott, only concerns me in that it has affected Abi’s spiritual wellbeing. I am her advisor and her counsellor in her role as a priest, I am not a repairer of relationships. And as such, I am sure you understand, I am not at liberty to discuss anything about her with a third party.’

He saw a muscle tighten in Kier’s cheek. There was a temper there, tightly under control. He had noted that Kier had not asked him to call him by his Christian name. Odd that, but in a sense welcome in that it kept them at arm’s length from one another.

The door opened behind them and Janet appeared with a tray. ‘I thought you might like some tea, Mr Scott,’ she said with a smile. She laid the tray down on the table near him. ‘Shall I leave you to pour out, Ben?’

Ben nodded. ‘Please, my dear.’ He had not taken his eyes off Kier’s face. The man had not even acknowledged Janet’s presence. He hadn’t risen to his feet as good manners might have indicated. He didn’t speak to her or thank her for the tea. His eyes were fixed on Ben’s face in some kind of test of strength. He sensed Janet hesitate and he relented. ‘In fact, perhaps you could do it for us, Janet. That would be kind.’ The man would have to acknowledge her presence if she was handing him a cup of tea. Ben waited curiously to see what would happen.

Kier ignored the proffered cup and after a moment’s hesitation Janet set it on the side table next to him. ‘I’ll leave some sugar here, shall I, Mr Scott?’ Her voice was slightly louder than before. Ben could sense her irritation.

And at last he looked up at her and nodded. ‘Thank you, Mrs Cavendish. No sugar.’ She was dismissed.

Ben looked at his wife. He could see the angry flush on her cheeks as she gave him his own cup and then turned towards the door. If he was any judge of his wife’s psychology Abi had just won a useful ally.

‘Because of Abi’s wild accusations and her more than strange behaviour over the last weeks of her curacy in my parish, she has secured my suspension,’ Kier said slowly. ‘I don’t know if she told you anything about that in your role as her confessor?’

Ben shook his head. ‘As I just told you, Mr Scott, I can’t discuss anything that I may or may not have talked about with Abi.’

Kier stood up. ‘She has ruined my career.’ He took a deep breath and walked over to the window. On this side of the house the view was across the lawn. There was already a sprinkling of pale leaves under the walnut tree. ‘That in itself is enough to upset me, although I feel sure I will be cleared of any accusations she might have made and any actions I took towards her will be vindicated, but my primary concern, as of course is yours, is with Abi’s welfare. I think she’s in great danger.’

‘Please, sit down, Mr Scott,’ Ben said. He waited while Kier returned to his chair. ‘Can you tell me what sort of danger?’

‘She has a tendency to meddle with psychic phenomena as I am sure you are aware. I rather foolishly accused her of resorting to witchcraft.’ He gave a short harsh laugh. ‘I didn’t mean it literally, but the word frightened her enough for her to go running to the bishop to make another complaint against me. Women are very sensitive to accusations of witchcraft – I am sure you have come across this yourself. They find it deeply offensive. They think it is part of some male plot against them. They equate it with a criticism of feminism. What I witnessed though was something that filled me with horror and I didn’t know what else to call it. She summoned ghostly figures into my church and she appeared not only to condone their presence there but also to enjoy their company.’

Ben stared at him incredulously. ‘What do you mean, enjoy their company?’

‘She said they sang beautifully.’

‘That’s all? She heard them singing.’

‘Isn’t it enough?’

Ben looked down at his hands. Kier’s description had for a moment conjured up a very much less than holy image reminiscent of some medieval picture of a Satanic bacchanal. He restrained a smile. ‘Forgive me asking, but when you say she summoned these figures do you mean she performed some kind of ritual or are we talking about a haunted church and someone with the sensitivity to see the ghosts that frequent it.’

Kier stared at him and for a moment seemed incapable of speech. ‘You talk as though hauntings were usual!’ he said at last.

‘In my experience they are.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re an exorcist!’ Kier’s face registered deep disgust. His colour had risen and Ben noted the sweat appearing on his forehead. The man was under enormous stress.

Ben shook his head. ‘On the contrary, I find a gentle and persuasive attitude to unhappy spirits, and the offer of prayer is usually enough. I take it Abi did not feel these entities were unhappy if they were singing.’ He levered himself out of his chair. ‘I am sorry Mr Scott but I do feel that it is inappropriate that we should be talking like this. In my opinion Abi and you need some time apart. You have had an unfortunate conflict of personalities and ideologies, as far as I can see, and I truly feel it is no more than that, but a time of reflection would seem to be a good thing for you both.’

Kier leaned back in his chair and reached for his tea cup. ‘Very probably, but first I need to talk to her. I shall go over there later and have a word.’

‘You know where she is?’ Ben was alarmed.

‘Of course I know where she is. You think her own father wouldn’t know her address? He agrees with me. This has to be sorted out. Bishop David has a lot to answer for! He cannot hide her from the two men who probably care most for her in the entire world.’

Ben sat down again, trying to school his face to impassivity. ‘May I ask what exactly it is you need to say to her?’

‘That is not your business.’

‘Forgive me, but I think it is. I am, as I have already told you her spiritual director. If you are going to say anything which is going to upset her, then I would like to know about it beforehand as I will have to pick up the pieces.’ Ben’s voice, though still quiet, had gained in emphasis. ‘I can’t allow you to undo all the good her time down here has achieved and is achieving.’

‘I am sure what I have to say will only be of use to her. I am as concerned for the welfare of her soul as you are.’ Kier drank his tea and put down the cup with some force, rattling the small silver spoon in the saucer. Then he stood up. ‘I will leave you now. I can see you have been drawn in by her charm and her plausibility just as I was. More fool you, if I may say so. I suggest you pray for guidance, because you will need something to sustain you when this all kicks off.’

He strode towards the door and pulled it open. ‘I am sure we will meet again soon.’

Janet was in the hall, putting fresh water into a vase of flowers on the hall stand. She jumped out of his way as he strode towards the door. In moments he was climbing back into his car.

She went back into the sitting room where Ben was already on the phone. ‘Cal, warn Abi that Kieran is on his way over. Get her out of the way. Tell her to hide in the attic. Whatever, just don’t let her speak to him. The man is a complete nightmare!’

Slamming down the receiver he turned to Janet with a groan. ‘What have we got involved in! You heard all that, I assume?’

She nodded. ‘Rude, spiteful and malicious. I am beginning to think that Abi needs to be very careful indeed.’

‘Where do you think she is?’ Cal was standing at the study window with Mat at her side, staring out across the gravel towards the road. There was no sign of Abi’s car.

He shrugged. ‘Is it worth me driving around a bit to try and find her? She was going into Glastonbury, you said.’

Cal nodded. ‘I think so. There’s no point in you going out after her. She could be anywhere. I just assumed she would be back for lunch. She’s been ages.’

‘She probably forgot the time. She is getting a bit obsessed, you must admit. What do we do when this chap turns up?’

Cal scratched the end of her nose thoughtfully. ‘We tell him she’s not here. We ask him where he is staying and take his phone number and very politely say that we will ask her to get in touch with him.’

‘And what if he refuses to go?’

She sighed. ‘I might have to get rough!’

Mat gave an affectionate chortle. He dropped a kiss on his wife’s head – she was at least a foot shorter than him. ‘I’d better hang around then. Be ready to pick up the pieces.’

‘You do that.’

They stood for a moment in silence, then Cal turned away from the window. ‘Come on. We don’t want him to catch us waiting for him.’

Kier arrived half an hour later. Opening the front door, flanked by barking dogs, Mat noted the silver Audi, then the sturdy, good-looking man striding towards the door. He exuded an air of slightly pugnacious determination.

‘Can I help you?’ Ordering the dogs to be quiet he put on his best, mild-mannered face. The dogs were not so polite. He could sense them bristling with disapproval.

Kier held out his hand and introduced himself. ‘I need to see Abi quite urgently. I am sorry not to have rung ahead.’

Mat grimaced. ‘Perhaps it would have been better if you had. I’m afraid she is out for the day.’ He was praying she wouldn’t choose that moment to drive in.

‘I see.’ Kier studied his face with care, obviously wondering whether to believe him and, in response to the man’s air of cynical superiority, Mat felt his own hackles rising to match the dogs’.

Cal’s voice from behind him reminded him of the agreed plan. ‘Perhaps Mr Scott would like to give us his address, then we can get Abi to contact him when she comes back.’ She manoeuvred herself in front of him slightly and looked up at Kier with a flinty expression that Mat knew well. People didn’t usually argue with it.

‘I thought I might come in and wait.’ Kier took a step forward. ‘If you wouldn’t mind. I shan’t get in your way.’

A throaty growl from Thiz stopped him in his tracks as he took a step into the hall.

‘I am so sorry, but we were just going out.’ Cal smiled at him. ‘It’s really not a good time.’ She folded her arms.

For a moment Mat thought he was going to argue, but Kier thought better of it. He shrugged and inclined his head graciously. ‘Of course. It was thoughtless of me to come unannounced like this. I’ll look in some other time, if I may. I don’t know where I shall be staying yet. I’ll go and check in somewhere and perhaps try and ring Abi then. And if you could ask her in the meantime to contact me. She knows my mobile number.’

They watched as he slid back into the car.

‘Please don’t let her turn in at this moment,’ Cal murmured as they retreated into the house and closed the door.

They waited, holding their breath, listening to the sound of the car tyres as he reversed and swung round. From the study window they watched him drive to the gate, indicate right, towards Wells, and disappear down the road.

‘Call Abi now,’ Mat said under his breath.

‘I’ve tried. Her phone is switched off.’

He shook his head. ‘Then all we can do is hope she is tucked away somewhere safe where he won’t spot her.’

Abi was sitting in the chair which Kier had vacated some two hours before, in front of Ben’s sitting room fire. ‘Ben, I’ve got to talk to you. I’ve got to tell you something -’ She broke off as Ben raised his hands as though warding off a stampeding horse. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

‘Kier was here.’

‘Kier?’ Her face registered incomprehension. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, he was here. He was going straight over to Woodley.’

‘I should have guessed he would come.’ She slumped back in the chair.

‘So you knew he’d found out where you were?’ Ben cleared his throat.

‘My father told him.’

‘May I ask how your father knew?’

She shrugged. ‘Not from Bishop David. I think someone in the diocesan office probably didn’t realise it was supposed to be confidential.’ She fixed her gaze on the carpet. ‘What did he say?’

‘He seemed somewhat disturbed.’ Ben heaved a sigh. ‘Both in himself and about you. He made some strange remarks, some of which worried me as they have obviously worried David.’ He looked up at last. ‘Can we get one thing straight, Abi. I take it you did not perform any kind of ritual to summon the spirits of the dead into St Hugh’s church?’

‘No!’ Her indignation was instantaneous. ‘Of course I didn’t. I told you what happened.’ She glanced away from him. ‘It was the crystal. It was the first time I realised what it could do.’ She paused. The silence was broken by the rustling whispers of the fire.

Ben stood up and moved over to the log basket. He rummaged round in it until he found a section of lichened apple trunk. The room filled with the sweet smell of the apple. ‘So, you didn’t call up its powers deliberately?’

‘No.’ She was chewing her lip. ‘That was when I first experienced anything so strongly. Clairvoyance I suppose you would call it. The ability to see ghosts. I didn’t make the connection with the crystal that time.’

‘And you didn’t summon this ancient congregation?’

‘No. They were just there. Suddenly. Then Kier walked in and they vanished. Like that!’ She snapped her fingers. ‘As though they had never been. But he smelled the candles and it seems he saw them as well.’ She shook her head. ‘Which must mean he’s clairvoyant too.’

Ben had been standing looking down into the fire. He turned away and resumed his seat with a sigh. ‘So it would seem.’

‘You do believe in clairvoyance?’ She could feel herself growing agitated.

‘Of course. By whatever name.’ He was watching her as she stood up and wandered over to the window. She stayed there with her back to him, fingering the flowered curtains, looking out at the lawn. He could sense her distress. ‘We’ll keep you safe from him, Abi. If necessary we’ll move you somewhere else.’

‘No!’ She span round. ‘I have to stay at Woodley.’

‘Why?’ The intensity of her response surprised him.

‘Because I want to find out what is happening – what happened,’ she amended.

‘The ghosts, you mean.’

She nodded.

‘Wouldn’t it be better to remove yourself from the ghosts? They are unquiet spirits which need to be released, Abi, not called back again and again. You know that as well as I do.’

She made no response. Kier’s visit had given him pause. He was uncertain now what she had done. She could sense his ambivalence and it made her furious. She had been going to confide in him the thought that had been tormenting her, that she had seen Jesus. How could she do that now? It would confirm everything Kier had told him. That she was mad!

Turning to face him she gave a wan smile. ‘I’ll ring Cal and ask if he’s there, shall I?’

Ben nodded. ‘I would keep out of his sight for now. They can hide your car round the back. There are plenty of old barns and sheds there. He won’t stay down here long if he can’t find you.’

She shook her head. ‘What has he got to rush back for? My guess is that he will stay here as long as it takes. Did he tell you what he wanted to say to me?’

Ben was thoughtful for a minute. ‘I’m not actually sure he did. He seemed keen for you to know that he had been suspended.’

‘So he wants to have a rant at me?’

He nodded again. ‘That’s part of it, I’m sure, but there was something else. I think he is afraid you have been corrupted in some way. He wants to save your soul. And he is also a proud man and you have rejected him. Reducing you to a quivering jelly of fear and penitent dependence,’ he added shrewdly, ‘would make him feel much better about himself.’

She snorted. ‘No chance of that!’

‘No.’ He glanced at her under his eyebrows. ‘Repentance is a part of what we do, though, isn’t it. If we are worried that we might be doing something not quite right, we try and stop and we ask God to forgive us.’

‘We ask God,’ she retorted, ‘but not Kier!’ She folded her arms. ‘I’m not doing something not quite right, Ben. My conscience is not telling me to leave this alone.’

That was a lie, she realised. Her conscience was by no means at rest. But then, if she was seeing Jesus…

It couldn’t be Jesus. That was the point.

In her head she was back in the lecture hall. There were lots of students wandering around in Europe in those days. Europe. She brought herself up short. The Empire was what she meant. It was all part of the Empire. Mainland Europe, excluding the Germanic north and of course at this time Britain, right across to and including the Middle East and all round North Africa. And probably on your gap year visiting even the German and British tribes might sound quite exciting. She smiled to herself. All sorts of students from all sorts of countries. That was what modern studies were showing. Iron Age, even Bronze Age tribal areas weren’t isolated, undiscovered territories peopled by primitive barbarians. They were sophisticated communities who traded widely, had done so for a thousand years even before the birth of Christ. Yeshua, whoever he was, would have spoken how many languages? Aramaic, obviously, Hebrew to read the scriptures, Latin in a country ruled by Rome, Greek as an educated man living in an Hellenistic world. Even the druids spoke and wrote Greek. He would have picked up the local Celtic tongue. Maybe, if he had travelled as widely as legend said, he would have learned Tibetan and Sanskrit, the language of the Sutras. Whoever this man was he was an educated, sophisticated traveller of a kind to have put most modern people to shame. He could be anyone. It was her job to find out who. She had to find out what happened. And she didn’t need the permission of Ben or Kier or the bishop to pursue her research.

‘Abi?’ Ben was watching her.

She gave an embarrassed little laugh. ‘Sorry. I was thinking.’

‘Clearly,’ he said dryly. ‘May I ask what about?’

She shook her head. ‘Just wondering. Can I ring Cal from your phone?’

He gestured towards it. ‘Of course.’

She didn’t see his worried frown.

Athena Wake-Richards was sitting behind the counter staring out of the shop window, lost in thought. She hadn’t been totally honest with Abi and now she was feeling guilty. But then Abi hadn’t been fully honest with her either, of that she was certain. Call it intuition, or a shrewd ability to read another woman’s face, but she knew Abi was hiding something. She glanced round the shop. The crystals twinkled and dreamed as they always did, creating a strong feeling of energy in the room, but that was all. She had long ago given up believing in them. They were just pretty stones. Giving off energy yes, but beyond that with no particular healing powers, no miraculous ability to divine the future, nor to store the past. She sighed. She had been talking complete balls. Crystal balls. She gave a rueful smile. Oh, she knew the patter well enough. She could reel it off for hours; once she had believed it herself, passionately and completely, as convinced as anyone in the town. She shivered. But she had become cynical in the end as so many did. She had waited and hoped and believed that proof would come; something. Anything. She had dared to hope that a revelation would open her eyes, show her that her rational brain was wrong, that all this magic was genuine. But it hadn’t happened. She remembered the last time she and Justin had met. They had had a terrible quarrel. A real break-up-of-any-possibility-of-reconciliation quarrel. Not that they had ever been that close, it was just that he had seemed a kindred spirit; a really nice guy. She screwed up her face in a grimace of disgust. So why had she led Abi to believe that she and he were friends and so claimed a kinship of some kind with Woodley and the Cavendishes? Still, her advice had been sound, hadn’t it? Give up on the crystal. She should use her own brain; her talents, whatever it was that was producing these ghostly phenomena. She inspected her fingers and began to chew off a hangnail thoughtfully. Did she believe in ghosts, that was the question. Abi obviously did. She obviously believed everything she had been told and had been presumably convinced as well by the garbage she, Athena, had fed her. She shook her head. At least she hadn’t tried to sell Abi a pile of books. She glanced into the back of the shop. There were a great many of them there, some of them very expensive. Good value in their way, with pretty photographs and diagrams of layouts and things, but not for someone with a real problem. Or if they were, she was not the one to explain how they worked.

The bell on the door tinkled as two women came in. She glanced at them and smiled a welcome. Surreptitiously she reached for the writing pad under the counter. She and Bella had a small wager going. These two would buy something, at a guess. Something small like earrings. She put a tick in the column. At the end of the month they would tot up their guesses and whoever won would stand the other a meal at The George and Pilgrims. No cheating, of course. She glanced at her watch. Perhaps she would close early and take a drive down the Old Wells Road and look up Cal and Mat. See Abi on site as it were. See if she could work out what it was that Abi was hiding and at the same time appease her conscience and make sure that nothing she had said could cause any harm. She gave another rueful smile. She knew what people called her in the town. Boadicea. It conjured up the image of a large, florid, aggressive woman with wild Celtic overtones. A strong woman and a wise woman. Well, that was what she had worked at, wasn’t it. She should be pleased her image plan had worked so well. Mat and Cal were not going to betray her. They believed the image. Unless Justin had said something. But then Justin didn’t talk to them, did he. She looked up and smiled as the customers approached the counter holding out a pair of earrings. Each. She smiled. Two ticks to go on the list.

Abi approached the gates slowly, her eyes peeled for the silver Audi. The quick phone call to Mat before she left Ben’s had told her that there had been no sign of Kier returning but she was still nervous. Turning in she drove straight round to the back and tucked her car into an old barn as instructed. The doors were standing open waiting for her and Mat appeared as she climbed out. ‘I’ll help you shut them. They’re a bit warped, but it’s worth it. He won’t see your car in here. It’s much easier to hide you!’ He grinned.

‘I resent having to hide away from him at all!’ Abi said crossly as she reached into the back of the car for the books she had bought across the road from the coffee shop before she left Glastonbury. New books she didn’t think they had. One on history, one on legend. ‘I’m not afraid of him. Wouldn’t it be better if I just told him to piss off!’

‘You think he’d go?’ He followed her out of the barn and closed the other half of the doors, slotting an iron bar in place to hold them closed.

‘I don’t know. What else could he do? He can’t just sit there forever.’

‘He could bully you. He could be unpleasant.’

‘But that’s all.’ They walked across the gravel towards the back door. ‘I was afraid of him in Cambridge because he was my boss. He was making unpleasant accusations and pestering me and I was on my own, but once I told the bishop it all stopped.’

‘Till he rang you.’

‘And I foolishly panicked. But, Mat, I am not going to let him terrorise me. That is nonsense. What can he do? Especially if you and Cal are here to back me up. I’ll just ask him to go.’

‘OK. It’s up to you.’ He opened the door for her and ushered her into the kitchen. The dogs, lying in front of the fire looked up, thumping their tails on the ground in greeting. Mat walked over to the sink and washed his hands, drying them on a dish towel before going over to the cooker and lifting the lid on a pan which was simmering gently on the backburner. ‘This smells nice. I wonder where Cal is.’ He was just replacing the lid when the doorbell rang. The dogs leaped to their feet and raced out of the room towards the front door, barking. Mat and Abi looked at each other.

‘May as well get it over with,’ she said firmly. To her fury her heart was thudding with apprehension. She waited in the kitchen while Mat went to the door. When he returned moments later there was a woman behind him. ‘You seem to have been reprieved,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I gather you two know each other.’ It was Athena.

‘There were things I wanted to tell you.’ Athena and Abi were seated on either side of the kitchen fire with a glass of red wine each. Mat had disappeared in search of Cal.

‘And I you!’ Abi had regained her composure. ‘But first I’d like to show you the crystal.’

When she reappeared minutes later with the crystal wrapped in its cotton bag Athena was staring into the fire. She looked up. ‘I need to make a confession.’

‘Look at it first. Please.’ Abi glanced at her. ‘I think I can guess what you’re going to say.’

Athena leaned forward and set her glass down on the hearth. ‘I doubt it!’ she said sharply. She put her hands out and Abi put the bundle into them. For a moment Athena sat still, her hands on the cloth.

Abi took a sip from her glass, her eyes on Athena’s face. For a long time neither woman said anything.

When Athena spoke at last she shook her head. ‘I can’t feel anything.’

‘Unwrap it.’

‘There’s no point.’

Abi looked dismayed. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I can’t feel anything. That’s what I had to confess to you Abi. I’ve been stringing you along. Well, not entirely. I know my stuff. I’ve read every book, spoken to every expert, but I can’t feel it myself. Crystals do nothing for me. I’m a jeweller. A designer, I can appreciate their beauty but that is all. I’m sorry. I’m a fake; a con artist. I don’t believe in it any more.’

‘I see.’ Abi slumped back in her chair.

‘That doesn’t mean it’s not happening for you.’

‘No.’

Hearing the desolation in her voice, Thiz sat up. She came over to Abi and rested her chin on Abi’s knee, gazing soulfully up into Abi’s face.

‘It is happening to me. I can’t pretend it isn’t,’ Abi said slowly. ‘And whatever it is, it has something to do with the crystal.’

‘You and your mother obviously have the gift.’ Athena smiled ruefully. ‘I wish I did. I really do. What I’ve told you is what I’ve read. And I’ve brought you a copy of the best book we have on the subject.’ She dived into the tapestry bag which she had dropped at her feet when she sat down and produced a book with a selection of brilliant cut crystals on the cover. ‘Read it. See if it helps. I still think though that you should go with your own instincts. For you this is real.’

Out in the hall the doorbell rang again. The two dogs raced out of the room barking as Abi looked down at the book in her hands. She didn’t open it. ‘Thank you.’ Her voice was bleak. Then she smiled. ‘You didn’t mislead me, not really. I feel a little lost, I admit, but after all this is my stone as you say, and my mother’s. And I’m not alone. Cal was here when I saw one of the figures in here. Mora. The druid priestess. She came into the kitchen and stood over there by the window -’ She broke off at the sound of men’s voices in the hall. One of them was Kier’s.

Athena looked at her, puzzled as Abi rose to her feet, staring at the door. ‘Abi? Are you all right?’ By the time Kier and Mat appeared in the doorway she too was standing up.

‘So, you are here!’ Kier walked in and stared from Abi to Athena and back. ‘I need to talk to you. I dropped in earlier, but you were out, so, I thought I might try again.’

‘I don’t think I want to talk to you, Kier,’ Abi said quietly. Her mouth had gone dry. ‘Better to draw a line under everything and make a fresh start. For both of us.’

‘A fresh start!’ he cried sharply. ‘How can I make a fresh start? You have destroyed my life.’

‘No, Kier. I haven’t. You did that yourself.’ Abi threw an appealing look towards Mat. He was standing awkwardly in the doorway, the dogs sitting at his feet. ‘Please, let Mat show you out. I am sure if you talk things over with the bishop -’

‘I have talked things over. I needed you and you turned your back on me. I’ve told him that instead of helping me, you used the dark arts to bewitch me. You’re dangerous, Abi, but I forgive you. And I want to help you. That is why I have come. We can work through this. We can study and pray and ask God to help us.’

Abi was intensely aware of Athena’s face. The woman was staring from one to the other of them in astonishment. The crystal, still wrapped in its bag lay on the chair between them beside the book which Abi had dropped there.

‘Kier. I think it would be better if you went,’ Mat put in at last. ‘Give me your address down here and Abi can contact you if she wants to speak to you. Or better still, I think it would be better if you went back to Cambridge.’

‘No.’

The single word echoed in the room.

‘I have nothing to talk to you about, Kier,’ Abi said finally. ‘There isn’t any point in staying.’ Her courage was returning.

There was another long silence. No-one moved.

‘Who is this woman?’ Kier appeared to have noticed Athena at last. He focused on her with evident distaste.

‘This woman,’ Athena said with emphasis, her patrician tones ringing round the room, ‘is Abi’s friend. And if you think Abi is a practitioner of the dark arts, you should see what I can do when I get going. I suggest, Mister, that you leave now!’

Mat rubbed his chin, trying to conceal a smile. He glanced across at Kier to see how well that had gone down. Not well at all, by the look of it. Kier’s face had gone an inelegant shade of puce. ‘How dare you!’

‘I dare.’ Athena smiled at him.

Cal chose that moment to appear through the back door. She was wearing her coat and her hair was dishevelled from the wind. She pushed the door closed and stared round in astonishment, putting a hand down to the dogs as they rose to greet her. ‘Have I missed something?’

‘Kier,’ Mat said, ‘is just leaving.’

Kier sighed. ‘All right. I’ll go. There is no point in talking to you, Abi, with all these people around.’ He glared at Athena. ‘I will come back tomorrow. Perhaps we can have some privacy then to discuss our personal affairs.’

‘There are no personal affairs, Kier,’ Abi said firmly. ‘I am sorry, but you and I have nothing else to say to each other. How much clearer can I make it? I don’t want to see you again. I don’t want to be harangued by you. I don’t want to be saved by you. I have come here to get away from you.’

‘That’s telling you, buster!’ Athena added in an undertone.

Cal was taking off her coat. She went and hung it on a hook by the back door then came back and bustled over to the stove. ‘Can you give me a drink, Mat? When Mr Scott has left we can get on with supper.’

Kier gave up. With a shrug he headed for the door. He did not say goodbye.

There was a long silence after Kier left the room. ‘Bloody hell!’ Athena said at last. ‘Where in the world did he come from? You must have some racy past, Abi! Bishops! Witchcraft! I don’t understand.’

Abi laughed uncomfortably. ‘Long story.’

‘Your ex, I gather?’ Athena queried.

Abi shook her head. ‘Ex boss.’

‘And your ex boss is a priest!’ She was sounding more and more incredulous.

Abi nodded and took a deep breath. ‘So am I.’ She forced herself to meet Athena’s eye. ‘I’m sorry. That’s what I should have told you.’

‘I thought you said -’

‘I did. More accurate to say I was a priest. I resigned. I couldn’t hack it any more. It wasn’t just Kier. It was the whole thing. I found I couldn’t do it.’

‘You stopped believing?’ Athena didn’t sound as shocked by the revelation as Abi expected.

‘No, I still believe. At least…’ She hesitated. It will destroy your faith, Abi. Her mother’s voice echoed in her head for a moment. It did mine. ‘Things have happened. To do with the crystal. That’s why I’m so confused. I don’t know what to believe any more.’ She noticed that Mat had vanished. He must have followed Kier out of the room. The dogs had padded after him. She threw herself down on her chair by the fire and closed her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t honest with you. I’m not feeling very robust at the moment and I’m so used to people who -’ She broke off. ‘Who aren’t believers. They like to have a go.’

Athena nodded. ‘With reason usually.’ She sat down opposite Abi and leaned forward. ‘The church is responsible for so much pain.’

Abi nodded.

‘On the other hand, maybe now it is beginning to acknowledge that women exist, there is some hope.’

Abi gave a rueful shrug. ‘Maybe.’

Behind them Cal sat down at the table. ‘If you go ahead with your resignation, Abi, it will be a great loss to the church for that very reason,’ she put in.

Abi scowled. It was Athena who stood up. ‘Will you show me your ruins?’ She looked down at Abi. ‘And the crystal.’ Abi hesitated.

It was Cal who nodded with a glance out of the window. ‘Go, Abi. Show her. Now before it gets dark.’

They stood in front of the ruined arch for several minutes, watching the evening draw in across the garden. Abi felt strangely relaxed. She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jacket. ‘He’ll come back,’ she said at last.

‘The priest?’

Abi nodded. ‘Kier. Yes.’

‘So.’ There was a pause. ‘Are you afraid of him?’

‘In a way, yes.’

‘Why?’

‘He has a powerful personality. Corrosive.’

‘You don’t have to let it corrode you. He can’t hurt you unless you let him.’

‘True. In theory. I guess he got under my skin a bit. It makes one vulnerable.’ She sighed.

‘You’re not in love with him?’

‘No. I fancied him a bit when I first met him, yes.’ Abi shrugged. ‘But that was all. No, it’s this.’ She gestured at the flowerbed. ‘It’s thrown me completely. Instead of healing me, coming here has laid open more wounds. I’m flailing around in territory I don’t understand. Bits of my psyche have opened up suddenly and it’s not something we covered at theological college. There’s a battle going on inside me: orthodoxy versus spiritual mayhem.’

Athena nodded. ‘And all this, as you know, will only make you stronger.’ She paused. She seemed to have a capacity for silence. ‘Can you see them now?’ she asked at last. The twilight was dulling into darkness.

Abi shivered. She shook her head.

‘Look harder.’

‘I can’t summon them, it just happens. And I haven’t got the crystal with me.’

‘You don’t need the crystal and you know it. That was what I came to tell you. You are in charge, Abi. You are a strong woman. A priestess. Just look.’