Time’s Legacy

15

The hotel in Sadler Street still had a vacancy and Kier found himself in the same twin bedroom, looking out towards the towers of Wells Cathedral. The room was very quiet. He looked round with satisfaction, dumping his bag down on the bed nearest the window. Perfect timing. He would go to Evensong, then have a meal in a local pub.

The next morning he drove back to Woodley and parked several hundred yards away from the house in a lay-by on the road where it ran straight and flat across the drained fields with their deep rhynes, symmetrical ditches punctuated by pollarded willows, the route of the causeway between the Isle of Avalon and the mainland. He was heading for the hill upon which the little church was built. He had seen Abi from across the field, threading her way down through the orchard then climbing the steep track on the far side. He watched her pause in the churchyard, then let herself in, leaving the door open behind her. The bright sunlight and fresh cold wind had swirled in with her, tugging at her jacket and tangling her hair. He frowned. She seemed to wear her hair loose all the time now. It seemed too young and frivolous, to him. And wild. Not at all suitable for a woman of the cloth. She was wearing a bright skirt, too. He could see it blowing round her legs. He walked slowly towards the church, following a footpath along the field edge. When it got to the hedge around the churchyard he found a stile and climbed over. Sheltered by yews and ancient oaks the churchyard was an island in the wide flat landscape. From here he could see the other conical hills, once islands in the wetlands, rising up in the distance. Behind him the Mendips rose as a phalanx to the north-east. It was a starkly dramatic landscape.

He walked quietly towards the church door, still uncertain what he was going to say to her and paused in the porch to listen. No sound came from inside the church. Cautiously he stepped towards the inner door and peered round it. She was sitting, staring at the altar. She looked as though she was praying. He watched her for a few moments, his eyes lingering over the beam of sunlight which illuminated her wild halo of hair and brought out the soft greens and browns of her jacket, the swirling patterns of her skirt. He could see her profile, the long straight nose, the high cheekbones and the strong, determined mouth. He smiled and stepped back, tiptoeing outside once more, unwilling to interrupt her, hearing the murmur of her voice. He paused and almost turned back, but that was wrong. If she chose to speak out loud to the Almighty then who was he to interrupt. This was why she was here. To pray and meditate. To clear her conscience with God. He stood for a few minutes in the windy churchyard, watching the four ancient yew trees sway and dance in a stately quadrille, then he turned and made his way back towards the stile. He was halfway there when he stopped and looked back.

Then he began to retrace his steps.

Abi could see her now. She was still hazy and somehow hesitant but the expression in her eyes was clear. It was pleading, desperate. ‘Mora, speak to me. I can see you. What can I do to help?’ She spoke clearly but she didn’t dare move. Behind her the heavy door swung open in the wind, scraping on the ancient paving stones. She had the feeling that if she stood up or moved closer she would scare Mora away again. ‘Please, tell me what you want. I am listening to your story.’ She fell silent, trying to open herself to whatever came. The figure hadn’t moved. Shadows from the trees outside fell through the stained glass of the window and played across the altar. She frowned, afraid she would lose sight of the figure in the shifting beams of light. ‘Mora, speak to me.’

‘Who in the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ is Mora!’ Kier’s voice just behind her made her spin round, rigid with shock. ‘Just who are you praying to?’

She turned back to the altar but Mora had gone. With a mixture of rage and disappointment, she fell back onto the chair. ‘Get out, Kier.’ She spoke through clenched teeth.

‘Not until you’ve told me. Who is Mora? Are you praying to some sort of goddess?’ He sputtered over the word as he stood over her.

She shook her head wearily. ‘No, Kier, I am not praying to a goddess.’

‘What then?’

‘It is none of your business. Please go away. I thought you had gone. I thought you had realised you had made a huge mistake coming down here.’

He shook his head wildly. ‘Please, don’t look so cross, Abi. I only want to talk to you for a few minutes, then I will go. I promise. I need to explain – ’ He paused and looked away, anguished. ‘I didn’t mean to come and hound you.’ He tried again. ‘I don’t want you to feel you’ve got to run away all the time. It’s only because I care so much that I have come here. It’s not your fault I’ve lost my job. I know that now. I went back to see the bishop. I handled everything appallingly but it will all come right. I know it will.’

Abi put her hands in her jacket pockets and waited in silence. He glanced at her, then looked down at the floor. ‘You are a sensitive woman, Abi,’ he said at last. ‘Exceptionally so and as an ordained priest you are a prime target. You know that as well as I do.’ He paused as though expecting her to say something.

She waited, looking at him, amazed that she could feel so much hostility towards a man who had once attracted her. ‘I don’t know how to get through to you,’ she said at last. ‘I don’t want to see you any more. I don’t want you interfering in my life.’

‘When I first came it was because your father asked me to,’ Kier went on. ‘He begged me to help you. He knows how dangerous that rock crystal is. He says it destroyed your mother. It has demonic powers.’

‘Rubbish!’ Abi felt a surge of anger. ‘Look, Kier. I am trying to be reasonable. I don’t care what my father asked you to do. My father hates anything that smacks of superstition to him, and that includes the Church of England, I may say. I left home because he and I do not agree on a great many important subjects. Our relationship is none of your business. Please go now.’ She saw him hesitate. ‘Now, Kier!’

‘I’m not going anywhere. I can’t leave you here like this. Your immortal soul is in danger – ’

‘No, not again!’ Suddenly she was so angry she couldn’t contain her rage. She stood up and turned on him. ‘My immortal soul is my affair, Kier. If I want to pray to the devil himself I will! Now I want you to go away and leave me alone and never, never come near me again. If you don’t I shall go to the police and charge you with harassment, do you understand me?’

He took a step back. ‘Abi! There’s no need for that. I want to help you.’

‘You are not helping me.’

‘Then explain. Who is Mora?’

‘All right. I’ll tell you.’ Her eyes were blazing with rage. ‘Mora is a ghost. She was a druid priestess and she has been trying to speak to me.’ His face had gone white, his eyes narrowed with shock. She didn’t notice. ‘She is a healer. Yes, a healer, Kier. And what is more she was a friend of Jesus. She loved him. He was a student here, on the Isle of Avalon. The legends are true. He came with Joseph of Arimathaea, a trader who came to pick up cargoes of tin and lead round the coast here, and he studied with the druids and he healed the sick and I have seen him. Watched him at work. And this church is one of the most sacred places in the whole of England and you have walked in here with your petty jealousy and anger and your puritan ignorance and you have spoiled everything!’

He was silent for a moment, staring at her. When at last he spoke it was just two words. ‘Oh, Abi.’

‘Yes, oh Abi!’ Ducking away from him she threw herself into the aisle near the pulpit, and turned to face him. ‘Go away, Kier.’

‘You poor child. You are completely deluded.’ He took a step back away from her. ‘It is far worse than I thought. Far worse.’ He paused again. ‘Have you told Ben about this delusion?’

‘It is not a delusion.’ She was so furious she could barely speak. ‘Yes, I’ve told Ben about Mora. She has been seen around here for hundreds of years by generations of his family. She has a story she needs to tell, about Jesus, Kier, and she has been trying to find someone who can understand her. Someone who will listen.’

‘And that person is you.’ His voice was flat.

‘Yes, that person is me.’

‘I see.’ He sighed. ‘OK. I can see why you were angry with me for interrupting you. I’m sorry.’ He glanced round the church with a shiver. ‘I take it she isn’t here any more.’

‘No, she’s gone.’

‘I saw the ghosts at St Hugh’s, you know.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve always seen ghosts. They terrify me. They are evil. They take you over. I wanted you to help me stop them, but you made them worse.’ His voice was shaking. ‘Can we pray together, Abi? Then I’ll go.’

She hesitated, her anger short-circuited by his sudden capitulation. What harm could it do to pray? With a nod of her head she relaxed visibly. ‘All right.’

He walked past her to the altar step and turning beckoned her to come and stand beside him. He gave her a brief smile, then he turned to face the window, staring up at the crucified Christ. The sun was shining directly in, highlighting the colours. The face of the man on the cross was inscrutable. ‘Dear Lord,’ he murmured. ‘Bless us and hold us in your hand. Especially look with mercy on your servant, Abi, and cast from her the devil, Mora, and all her illusions – ’

‘No!’ Abi turned on him once more. ‘How dare you!’

Kier was ready for her. He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her. ‘I’m sorry, Abi, I truly am. But I have to do this. Kneel down.’

‘No!’

‘Yes!’ He was forcing her to her knees on the step. With her arm held so painfully behind her back, Abi gave in and subsided. He could hold her easily now with one hand. She couldn’t move. She watched in real fear as he groped in his pocket and produced a small bottle. ‘This is holy water, Abi. It will remove her. Don’t be afraid, my dear. In a moment it will all be over.’ He looked up at the window again, addressing the man on the cross. ‘Lord, be with us here in this place and help me reclaim it for you. Begone from this place, every evil haunting and phantasm; depart for ever, every unclean spirit – ’

‘No! Kier, stop! You don’t know what you are doing. Don’t be so stupid!’ Abi’s protest was cut short as he gave a small vicious jerk on her wrist, forcing it up between her shoulder blades. Her shoulder was agony.

Flipping the stopper out of the bottle with his thumb he held it over her head. ‘Almighty God, your nature is always to have mercy and to forgive: loose this your servant from every bond of evil and free her from all her sins. I ask this though Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.’ He was sprinkling the water over her hair, she could feel it, warm from his pocket. Splashes of it fell on the step where she was kneeling. The sun had gone in and the window in front of them had lost its colour. He waited for a full minute, as though expecting something to happen, then he released her arm. She fell forward, trying not to sob out loud as she cradled her shoulder in her other hand. Kier was watching her closely.

‘There,’ he said at last. ‘Now you will be safe. Pray, Abi. Ask for God’s forgiveness and protection.’ He turned away and walked back down the aisle. Near the door he stopped and pulled out his mobile phone. As Abi staggered to her feet and turned to look after him she heard him speaking urgently. ‘Ben? It’s Kier Scott. Can you come at once? I’m in St Mary’s Church. Abi is here. I’ve prayed with her and cast out this demon who has been possessing her, but it would be good to have you here for back up.’ He flipped the phone shut and put it back in his pocket. Then he went to sit down at the back of the church.

Abi sank onto the altar step. She had begun to tremble all over.

Lugging her suitcase up the steps after her, Athena inserted her key in the door and pushed it open. She was exhausted. The last couple of days had been hell. Funerals were never good, but this one had been particularly bad. The service, if that was the word, had been held at the West London Crematorium. It had been arranged by Tim’s sisters. She had never got on with them or they with her. They had shaken hands with her, tight-lipped, when she arrived and then turned away to go into the chapel which was fairly full. Apart from them, every person there was a stranger. How could she have so completely lost touch with him? Their parting had not been acrimonious. Sad, yes. Regretful, even cross. But the anger had been fleeting and directed at circumstances and belief systems, not at one another. She turned into a row at the back and sat down. The order of service was bleak. Two hymns. A prayer. An address. The man who gave the address did not seem to have known him at all. He certainly hadn’t known the Tim she remembered from the past. The funny, energetic, artistic, musical man who had wooed her and lured her away. She expected to hear some wonderful music blasting round the chapel. Some of Tim’s own recordings; harpsichord music, a symphony, piano. Anything. All they got was a recorded placebo on an organ. She wanted to leap up and tell them what kind of man he had been but she didn’t. She sat quietly and looked at the pine coffin with its wreath of chrysanthemums and wished she had thought to bring some flowers herself. Her own farewell would have to be private, somewhere only Tim could hear her.

She had spent a second day in London, then a sleepless night with a long-suffering friend who had agreed to put her up in exchange for a visit to Somerset the following spring and she had set off for home at six a.m. She needed tea and breakfast, a shower and bed. Dropping the case in the hall she walked into the kitchen and stopped dead. Justin was sitting at the table reading a newspaper. At his elbow she saw he had found her percolator and the pack of coffee she kept for visitors. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘Waiting for you.’ He folded the newspaper and set it down. ‘Where have you been?’

‘None of your business. You get out now.’ She paused. ‘How did you get in, anyway?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘And how nice to see you too.’

‘Justin, I am very tired. I have just had a long drive. I am in no mood to mess about.’

‘OK.’ He gave her an appraising look. ‘I’m sorry. I asked Bella for the spare key. Don’t blame her – I charmed it out of her.’ He gave her his best heart-warming smile. ‘I knew you’d be back soon or you would have asked her to come and water your plants.’ He glanced out of the window where a hanging basket was gently swinging to and fro in the breeze. ‘And I need to ask you something. Just answer me this one question, then I shall go. Why did you tell Abi Rutherford that I had killed someone?’

‘Because it’s the truth.’ She held his gaze.

‘You know it’s not.’

‘You claimed you could help my sister. You reassured her. You drew her into your stupid belief system. You told her not to bother with doctors. You convinced her she could get well without the help of orthodox medicine so she cancelled that last operation. She refused chemo. And she died. And that was your fault!’ There was a sob in her throat.

He nodded slowly. ‘She made her own choices, Athena. All I did was show her that she had choices. You know as well as I do that surgery would not have helped her in the long run. Her family, and that includes you, were desperate to do something, anything, to keep her with you and that was understandable, but you were thinking of yourselves, not of her. This way, she had a few months at home, happy and positive months, and she was in a position to say her farewells with dignity. It was what she wanted.’

Athena slumped down into the chair opposite him. ‘She would have still been here. She would have been alive now.’

‘No, Athena, she wouldn’t.’

He reached up to the shelf for a mug and poured her a cup of coffee from the percolator beside him. ‘Drink this. Calm down. Think about it. I was very fond of Sunny. I wouldn’t have done anything to hurt her, not in a million years.’

She reached for the mug and took a sip. She winced at its bitterness. ‘I’ve just been to Tim’s funeral.’ She changed the subject abruptly.

‘I heard he had gone. I’m sorry.’

‘I don’t even know where he died. His sisters had arranged the most god-awful cremation.’ Her eyes filled with tears.

‘You can do something for him here. That’s what he would like. He always loved you, Athena.’

‘Did he?’ She looked up at him. ‘How do you know?’

‘Because I do.’ He gave a slow smile. ‘Believe me.’

‘You’re always so damn certain about these things.’

‘Some things, yes.’

‘I’ll tell Abi I was wrong to say that about you.’

‘I wish you would. She is in deep trouble and I want to help her. It’s not very reassuring to be told that the man who can set you on the right path is the next best thing to Dr Crippin.’

She gave a watery grin. ‘Sorry.’ She stood up and went to throw her coffee down the sink and rinsed the mug under the tap. Switching on the kettle she reached for a tin of herbal teabags instead. ‘You think she is in real trouble?’

‘She is very sensitive. In every sense of the word.’ He took a sip of his own coffee. She watched for him to grimace, but he appeared to enjoy every mouthful. She couldn’t believe that someone who claimed to be spiritually advanced, a druid and a shaman, could allow anything so bitter and strong and filthy to pass his lips. ‘It’s really strange,’ he went on thoughtfully. ‘As a priest she should have been given the tools to deal with the situation which has arisen, but either she wasn’t, or she doesn’t have the experience, or the right training.’ He paused. ‘And she’s too inhibited. On the one side by the church and on the other, so Cal tells me, by a formidable bully of a father. She needs instruction.’

‘And you can help her.’

He nodded.

‘By destroying her Christian faith.’

‘No.’ He looked up sharply. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘Then how? What on earth can you do to help a Christian?’

He smiled at her. ‘I’ll think of something.’ He stood up. ‘In fact I might go back there now.’ He leaned forward and gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand. ‘Go safely, Athena. If you need me, you know where I am.’

Neither Abi nor Kier spoke, each sat sunk in their own thoughts as the minutes ticked by. The church felt very empty. Abi could feel the desolation. It was as if the heart of the place had been ripped out. She could still see the spots of water on the stone floor. How could he have used holy water against her? Against Mora. Against Jesus himself. It was crazy. And wrong. So wrong. When the door latch clicked up and the door swung open she didn’t move.

Kier stood up. ‘Ben, at last!’

Ben came in, shaking raindrops from his jacket and looked round, seeing Abi still sitting on the altar step. She didn’t move or greet him. ‘What’s happened?’ He swung to face Kier. He was speaking in a whisper.

‘I performed a minor exorcism.’ Kier straightened his shoulders. ‘Nothing heavy. Prayer and holy water. To get rid of this presence that’s been haunting her. It worked well I think.’

‘You think,’ Ben echoed. ‘Wait here.’ He pointed back at the seat and Kier sat down.

Ben walked towards Abi, studying her demeanour. She still hadn’t looked up. ‘Abi? Are you all right?’ He paused beside her. ‘What happened?’

‘Didn’t he tell you? He assaulted me! He twisted my arm. And he splashed me with holy water and bade Mora begone. He tried to exorcise the church. The church, Ben!’ At last she looked up. He saw fury and despair in her eyes in equal measure. ‘This special, beautiful, sacred place. He tried to exorcise it.’

Ben sighed. He shouldn’t have touched her. ‘Prayers and holy water will harm no-one unless they are evil, Abi, you know that.’

‘But she’s gone! She knew he meant her harm. He banished her. Just as we were going to talk.’ She was suddenly aware that Kier had tiptoed up the aisle behind them.

‘Did she tell you that this fiend, Mora, was a druid priestess, Ben? And did she tell you that Mora claimed to have made love to Our Lord Jesus Christ!’ Kier’s voice was heavy with disgust.

Ben looked at Abi sharply. ‘You told him about your theory that Jesus himself was here?’

‘It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have.’ She was still sitting on the step, her arms round her knees. Then she looked up again. ‘And I never said Mora made love to him. She was in love with him, that is a very different matter.’

Ben was struck dumb for a moment. He looked at each of them in turn, then he shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t have told anyone.’

‘I know.’ She buried her face in her arms. ‘And Kier has made it seem dirty and evil and heretical.’

‘It is heretical, Abi,’ Kier put in. ‘She needs care, Ben,’ he went on. ‘I think she’s having some sort of nervous breakdown. This is the result of the strain she’s been under. You should have taken this whole episode more seriously. You’ve breached your role as her spiritual mentor. This has escalated out of all control now and we have to act at once. To save her.’

Abi looked up. ‘I’ve had enough of this.’

Ben hesitated. He looked from one to the other and shook his head. ‘I think we should go back to the house,’ he said at last. ‘Come on Abi, let me give you a hand.’ He held his hand out to help her up from the step.

She ignored it. ‘I want Kier to leave.’

Ben looked up at Kier. ‘She’s right. I think you should go. Leave this to me.’

‘I left it to you last time,’ Kier retorted. ‘And look what’s happened. You did nothing!’

‘Abi and I have been working on all this slowly,’ Ben said patiently. ‘There is no cause to be dramatic. Abi’s experiences need to be explored and prayed about and that’s what we have been doing. Please go. Your presence can only exacerbate matters.’

Kier’s face reddened in anger. ‘It seems to me I am the only person who cares about her!’

‘Go away, Kier!’ Abi scrambled to her feet. ‘For God’s sake! How many times? You don’t understand me. You don’t understand what is happening to me. Your reactions to this whole thing are archaic. I came down here to get away from you!’

‘Go, Kier!’ Ben said forcibly before the other man had a chance to react. ‘Go now.’

Kier shook his head. ‘My conscience won’t let me. I have to deal with this. You’re obviously not going to. “Your enemy the devil walketh about, as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” Don’t you see it, man! In God’s name, open your eyes.’

Behind them the door opened. For a second none of them turned round, then Kier looked up. His eyes widened and Abi saw the skin over his cheekbones blanch.

‘What have we here? A gathering of vicars. Does that make a synod?’ Justin’s voice rang out with authority as he walked slowly towards them up the aisle, sweeping his rain-soaked hair back from his eyes with his hand. He gazed round, hastily taking in the situation. ‘You don’t look happy, Abi.’

‘I’m not. I want Kier to leave.’

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Justin gave a grim smile. ‘And Ben?’

‘Ben is fine,’ his brother retorted. ‘But he would also like Kier to leave.’ He turned to Kier. ‘If you would be so kind.’

Kier stared from one to other of the men, his eyes wild. ‘No!’

‘It is strange how we seem to have been in this situation before,’ Justin said calmly. ‘You seem to make a habit of being where you are not wanted, my friend. I think it would be as well if you left. I would be sorry to have to use force in a house of God.’

‘You don’t believe in God!’ Kier spluttered.

‘My beliefs or lack of them are not the issue here.’ Justin did not raise his voice. ‘This is a Christian church and you are a Christian priest and you have been asked to leave. I think it behoves you to do so. And if you don’t go in the next ten seconds I shall throw you out.’

Kier looked at Ben. ‘Are you going to let him talk to me like that? A foul heathen!’

‘One. Two.’

‘He’s my brother.’ Ben shrugged. ‘We don’t talk theology much, but he seems to have reiterated what Abi and I have been saying. I would have found it much harder than Just to resort to violence in a church, but I might have done so had he not appeared.’

‘Five. Six. Seven – ’ Justin said slowly.

‘Right. I’m going. And I’m going to phone the bishop as soon as I’m out of here,’ Kier said, already moving towards the door. ‘This is not the end of the matter. Abi has to be saved. If neither of you cares, then I am going to have to do it myself!’

They watched as he gained the door and went out, banging it behind him.

Abi subsided onto the step again. ‘He tried to exorcise the church,’ she said to Justin. ‘He tried to banish Mora.’ Her voice was shaking.

Justin glanced round slowly. ‘I can feel the rage in here. The place is vibrating with anger and fear. If I take Abi back to the house, Ben, will you pray to settle the church?’ He held out his hand to Abi.

Unsteadily she climbed to her feet. She stared round. The place seemed to be full of an angry mist.

‘Who is Cynan?’ Justin asked suddenly.

Abi stared at him, then she turned slowly, glancing round the church. ‘Is he here?’

Justin nodded. ‘He is angry and confused and afraid for Mora.’

Abi stared at him. ‘Where? Where is he? I can’t see him.’

‘He comes here to be alone. Here on the hill top. In his time there is no building here. This is a sacred place. He prays here, just as you do. And he senses that it has been desecrated.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Kier’s obsession has allowed something very powerful to worm its way into his soul. Not love, though I’m sure he feels he loves you, Abi. I’m afraid it is something much more sinister. Come with me. He held out his hand. ‘Leave Ben to sort this out here. We will speak to Cynan outside.’

He took her hand and led her up the aisle towards the door. She stopped abruptly. ‘Suppose Kier hasn’t gone?’

‘He has.’ Justin didn’t seem to have any doubts on the matter. With a glance at his face Abi meekly followed him out into the rain.

The churchyard was deserted. She glanced round in relief. ‘I had no idea he had followed me in there.’

Justin shrugged. ‘Forget him for now. We have to speak to Cynan.’

‘How? I’ve left the stone – ’

‘We don’t need the stone.’ He stood for a moment in silence, staring round, then he set off at a brisk walk towards the gate. ‘Follow me.’

Abi glanced behind her towards the church door. There was no sound from inside. She wondered what Ben was doing. More holy water, or just prayers to try and settle the jangling echoes? After a second’s hesitation she followed Justin out of the gate and down the steep path towards the orchard.

So, there wouldn’t be another winter here, to stand and watch the frost-sparkled lacework on the graceful branches of the willow, the bright icicles on the bare angles of the old apple trees, the splintered ice out on the shallow immovable waters, their spears of reed and sedge rigid with cold. He shrugged the robe more comfortably onto his thin shoulders and turned full circle, looking out across the distances. God’s world, at every season, had its beauty and its infinite mystery.