Crybbe

EPIDEMIC

Powys finished his toast, went to wash his hands, came back and turned the envelope over a couple of times before he opened it. It contained a letter which didn't mess around.

Dear J. M. Powys,

As you may have learned, Dolmen Books, publishers of

The Old Golden Land, have now been acquired by the

Epidemic Group.

Shit, Powys thought, I didn't know that.

I am writing to you on behalf of the Group Chairman,

Max Goff, Powys thought, aghast. I've been acquired by Max bloody Goff.

Mr Max Goff, who has long been an admirer of your work and would like to meet you to discuss a proposition.

… And from what I've heard of Max Goff s propositions to personable young blokes such as myself…

We should therefore like to invite you to a small reception at the Cock Inn, Crybbe,

… I may have to invent a prior engagement… on Friday, 29 June at 12.30 p.m. I'm sorry it's such short notice, but the acquisition of Dolmen was only confirmed this week and I obtained your address only this morning.

Please contact me if you have any queries.

Please contact me anyway.

Yours sincerely,

Rachel Wade,

PA to Max Goff

Powys sat and looked around the shop for a while, thinking about this.

He could see on the shelves, among the dozens of earth-mysteries books by Alfred Watkins and his successors, the spine of the deluxe hardback edition of The Old Golden Land and about half a dozen paperback copies, including the garish American edition with the Day-Glo Stonehenge.

On the counter in front of Powys was a token display stand: dowsing rods and pendula. Mr Watkins might have been able to dowse, but he didn't have anything to say in his books about 'energy dowsing'. Or indeed about earth energies of any kind.

But all that was academic; the dowsing kits were selling well. Soon wouldn't be able to visit a stone circle without finding some studious duo slowly circumnavigating the site, dangling their pendulum and saying 'Wow' every so often.

Under the counter, because Powys hadn't had the nerve to put them on sale, was the box of 'healing' crystals which Annie – his new assistant with the Egyptian amulet – had persuaded him to buy. 'Got to embrace the New Age, Joe, and let the New Age embrace you. Mr Watkins wants you to let the New Age in, I can feel it. Sometimes I even think I can see him standing over there by the door. He's holding his hat and he's smiling.'

Wow!

Powys reached into the crystals box and helped himself to a handful of Sodalite (for emotional stability and the treatment of stress-related conditions).

Max Goff, he thought.

Max Goff!

Clutching the crystals, he discovered he was holding in his other hand a small, creased, white envelope, the last item of mail.

Mr J. Powys,

The Alfred Watkins Centre,

Hereford.

Handwritten, not too steadily. Inside, a single sheet of lined blue notepaper.

Cwm Draenog,

Titley,

Kington

Dear Mr Powys,

If you have not already heard I am sorry to have to inform you of the death of my neighbour Mr H. Kettle.

What…?

He was killed in a road accident in Crybbe where he was working and did not suffer.

Jesus Christ!

Mr Kettle left an envelope with me to be opened after his death in which he stated what he wanted to happen to his possessions as he did not trust solicitors. The house and all the contents is to be sold and the money sent to his daughter in

Canada but he wants you to have his papers and his dowsing rods. If you would like to come to the house I am in most of the time and will let you into Mr Kettle's house.

Yours faithfully,

Gwen Whitney (Mrs)

J. M. Powys put down the letter. He ought to have opened the shop ten minutes ago. The Sodalite crystals (for emotional stability and the treatment stress-related conditions) began to dribble through his fingers and roll across the wooden counter.