The House At Sea’s End

CHAPTER 14

‘We gather today to bless a child.

A new life that has become part of our world.

We gather today to name this child.

To call a thing by name is to give it power,

and so today we shall give this child a gift.

We will welcome her into our hearts and lives

and bless her with a name of her own.’

Cathbad is in full swing. He made a bonfire in the back garden and placed a trestle table in front of it. He then put a goblet of wine and a bowl of olive oil on the table and has invited the guests to form a ring around the fire.

Ruth, carrying Kate in her blue snow suit, follows him rather reluctantly. She had been surprised to see how many people turned up for the naming day party. Tatjana, of course, was already in residence and was quickly chatting to Phil about Arlington Springs Woman. As well as Phil there was Shona, Cathbad’s friend Freya from the modern languages department, Trace and Clough, Ted, Judy and, surprisingly, Dieter Eckhart and Clara Hastings.

‘I met Cathbad at the university,’ explained Dieter. ‘He invited me. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘Why should I mind?’ said Ruth, rather sulkily. Cathbad can hardly know Dieter, who is doing some research in the history department, very well. Ruth suspects him of extending the invitation to annoy Phil, who might be jealous of Dieter’s academic reputation (and his good looks). What is more surprising is how close Dieter and Clara seem, arm-in-arm, laughing warmly over shared jokes, speaking in German together. He has only been here a few days after all.

‘Clara’s been a great help to me,’ Dieter explained. ‘Telling me many stories of local history.’ He gave Ruth a rather meaningful look.

Clara laughed. ‘And I’ve been practising my German. I spent a year in Germany before going to uni but I’m awfully rusty. I wish I’d worked harder at school now.’

‘I bet you were the model pupil,’ said Dieter with a smouldering look.

‘Oh, I was useless,’ said Clara carelessly. ‘I was expelled from two schools.’

Well, Dieter was certainly making every effort to help Clara catch up, retiring with her into a corner of Ruth’s sitting room and managing, with clever body language, to block out the rest of the company altogether.

To her surprise, Ruth found that she was enjoying the party. It’s been a long time since she had so many people in her house and, since Cathbad and Freya provided the food and drink, it’s hardly a strain on her as hostess, though she had trouble finding enough plates and glasses (Clough is drinking from a Winnie the Pooh mug and Phil is eating from one of Kate’s moulded plastic bowls). Ruth was just settling down to a good chat with Judy when there was a thunderous knock at the door.

‘That’ll be the boss,’ said Clough. ‘Trying to force entry.’

Oh please God, no.

But Clough was right. Standing framed in the doorway were Nelson, unsmiling in jeans and a leather jacket, and Michelle, carrying a huge, beribboned parcel.

‘I know we weren’t supposed to bring presents,’ said Michelle. ‘But I think this’ll be useful.’

Ruth accepted the present with thanks, her heart sinking. Despite Cathbad’s directive, Kate was actually doing quite well for gifts but the Nelson offering dwarfed the rest.

‘Do open it, Ruth,’ said Michelle, accepting a glass of punch from a suddenly attentive Cathbad. Where the hell had he found a clean glass?

Ruth hates opening presents with other people watching (memories of grisly Christmas mornings pretending to be grateful for a Bible) but there was no refusing without looking churlish. Gingerly, she tore the pink flowered paper.

‘Wow! It’s a… it’s wonderful… what is it?’

It was a pink gingham chair attached to a wide base on wheels. The chair had a tray in front bristling with things to touch and press and crinkle. It looked faintly alarming, like a power base for a pink-checked alien. Ruth had a sudden flashback to Doctor Who and the Daleks. Exterminate, exterminate.

‘It’s a baby walker,’ laughed Michelle. ‘You put her in the chair and she can walk around. Well, she won’t be able to do it yet, but in a few months she’ll be whizzing about.’

Ruth found the idea of Kate on wheels rather frightening. At least, like the Daleks, she won’t be able to go upstairs.

‘Wow. It’s fantastic. Thanks.’

‘Where’s Kate? I haven’t seen her for ages.’

In the first months of Kate’s life, Michelle had put herself out to be kind to Ruth. She came all the way to the Saltmarsh to coo and offer advice. She suggested meeting in town, she volunteered to drive Ruth and Kate to the park, she even offered to take Kate swimming ‘at my club’. Ruth was touched, and she yearned for female friendship, especially from someone who had been through the whole baby thing herself, but however much she tried to pretend that Kate had no father, that she had sprung fully formed from Ruth’s brain like a modern-day Athena, she couldn’t quite face the prospect of playing happy families with Nelson’s wife. So she wriggled out of the invitations, pleading work and tiredness, and when Michelle eventually stopped ringing, she felt both relieved and disappointed.

But this evening Michelle was all friendliness, and admiration for Kate.

‘Oh, isn’t she gorgeous? Can I hold her?’

Ruth is always surprised how maternal Michelle is. For someone so glamorous, she doesn’t give a thought to sick on her shoulder or a baby grabbing handfuls of her hair. She held Kate expertly (not even relinquishing her glass) and nuzzled her head.

‘Oh, she’s lovely. I’d forgotten how they smell. Look, Harry. Do you want a hold?’

‘I’m fine, thanks,’ said Nelson.

Now, as the guests traipse out into the garden, Ruth looks back and sees Nelson helping Michelle on with her swishy red coat. She smiles and leans back against him. Behind them, Dieter and Clara are still whispering together. Love is in the air, thinks Ruth sourly, it must be the effects of Cathbad’s home-made punch.

‘This ceremony is called a wiccaning or a saining,’ Cathbad explained earlier. ‘It’s to introduce Kate to the Gods.’

‘Or, if you don’t believe any of that tosh,’ put in Ruth, ‘it’s just a party.’

But, now, in the dark, with the fire leaping upwards, it does feel more like a ceremony than a party.

‘The Guardians, that’s Shona and I,’ says Cathbad modestly, ‘should stand either side of the table. Ruth, you hold Kate in the middle.’

Ruth obeys. She’s willing to go along with Cathbad only so far. At the first sign of human sacrifice, she’ll be straight back indoors.

‘What is the baby’s full name?’ he asks in his Druid voice, echoey and impressive.

‘Kate,’ says Ruth. ‘Kate Scarlet.’

She looks at Nelson and finds, to her horror, that she can’t look away. Only the two of them know the significance of the name though, to judge by Judy’s sudden start, some of the others might guess. Scarlet Henderson, the little girl involved in the abduction case that first drew Ruth and Nelson together.

For a full minute, Ruth and Nelson stare at each other across the flames. Then, to Ruth’s relief, Cathbad starts speaking again.

‘May the gods keep this child pure and perfect, and let anything that is negative stay far beyond her world.’

He puts his finger in the olive oil and gently touches Kate’s forehead. Ruth watches him closely to check that he doesn’t trace any sinister symbol on her, but no, it’s just a touch. Then, he puts his finger in the wine and places a drop on Kate’s lips. She smiles. Her mother’s daughter.

‘May you always have good fortune,’ intones Cathbad, ‘may you always have good health, may you always be joyful, and may you always have love in your heart.’

Once again, Ruth looks at Nelson. He is staring into the fire.

‘You are known to the gods and to us as Kate Scarlet. This is your name, and it is powerful. Bear your name with honour, and may the gods bless you on this and every day.’ He passes the wine to Ruth. ‘Drink and pass on.’

He then addresses the wider circle. ‘As you drink, say aloud: “I honour you, Kate Scarlet.”’

Ruth takes a sip. The wine rushes to her head like whisky. ‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet,’ she croaks. She passes the cup to Shona who takes an enthusiastic gulp. ‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet,’ she says, her voice loud and clear. She passes the cup on to Dieter.

‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet,’ he bows slightly.

‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet,’ echoes Clara.

‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet.’ Clough sounds as if he is laughing.

‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet.’ Trace is expressionless.

‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet.’ Tatjana, putting the stress on the ‘you’.

‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet,’ Ted booms as loudly as Cathbad himself.

‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet.’ Judy’s voice is soft.

‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet.’ Phil’s self-conscious mumble.

‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet.’ Freya’s fervent whisper.

Michelle takes the cup with complete self-possession. ‘I honour you, Kate Scarlet.’ Nelson takes the wine. His lips move but no-one hears any words. The flames have risen so that Ruth cannot see his face.

Cathbad replaces the cup on the table. ‘Can I have her?’ he asks Ruth. Rather reluctantly Ruth hands over the bundle in the blue snow suit. Cathbad holds the baby up to the night sky. ‘Welcome, Kate Scarlet. We ask the gods to watch over you and over your father and mother.’ He turns to Ruth, smiling. ‘That’s it.’

Numbly, Ruth follows Cathbad back into the house. Why did he say that about father and mother? Does he suspect something or did he just download the whole thing from paganceremonies.co.uk? That’s the trouble with Cathbad, you never know how much is airy-fairy spiritual stuff and how much is good old-fashioned stirring. Did the other guests suspect anything? She doesn’t think any of them were listening very hard – they all had the slightly glazed expression of people in church. Nelson will have noticed though, she’s sure of that.

Kate has fallen asleep and Ruth is glad to escape upstairs and put her to bed. She takes off Kate’s snow suit and puts her, still dressed in her babygro, into her cot, under the blanket knitted by Ruth’s mother. What would Ruth’s parents make of the ceremony around the fire? In all probability, they’d be searching for their bell, book and candle at the first sight of the fire or the oil or the cup of wine.

But when Ruth goes downstairs and starts talking to Judy over the remains of the punch, Judy says, ‘It reminded me of the Catholic mass. You know, sharing the wine and all that.’

Ruth wonders if the analogy also occurred to Nelson who, like Judy, was brought up a Catholic.

‘Are you getting married in a Catholic church?’ she asks.

Judy grimaces. ‘Yes. The full nuptial mass. Darren’s a Catholic too. We met at school.’

‘It must be nice,’ says Ruth, ‘knowing someone that well.’

Judy fishes a slice of orange out of the punch and eats it meditatively. ‘It is nice. I mean, we’ve got the same memories, the same friends. Our families all know each other.’ She laughs. ‘I can’t help wondering what it would be like to go to bed with someone you hardly know. God, I must be drunk.’

Ruth thinks of a dark night, a terrible discovery, an unknown body moving against hers.

‘It may be exciting,’ she says, ‘but I think the best thing must be to go to bed with someone who knows every inch of your body.’

‘Sounds fun.’

Ruth whirls round to find Nelson standing behind her. She knows she is blushing like a bonfire.

‘This is women’s talk,’ says Judy.

‘So I gathered. We’re off, Ruth. Thanks for a… well, thanks.’

‘Have you spoken to Dieter? About the bodies?’

‘We had a quick chat. He seems a bit preoccupied now.’

Ruth glances over to the sofa where Dieter and Clara are still nose to nose, his hand brushing the back of her neck.

‘Is that Jack Hastings’ daughter?’ asks Nelson.

Ruth nods.

‘Wonder what he’ll think about her snogging a German?’

‘Don’t mention the war,’ warns Ruth.

‘Right. Well, goodbye.’ He leans towards her as if he is about to kiss her cheek but, at the last minute, veers away again. Michelle swoops over and enfolds Ruth in a scented embrace.

‘We must meet up very soon,’ she says.

‘What on earth does she see in him?’ says Judy, as the door closes behind the Nelsons.

‘His sparkling personality?’

‘Hardly.’

Now Tatjana is ladling away at the punch.

‘That man, Nelson,’ she says, ‘he is very attractive.’

Judy snorts and turns away to talk to Cathbad.

‘Do you think so?’ says Ruth.

‘Yes,’ says Tatjana dreamily. ‘He is very powerful, very dark. I think he has a secret.’

Ruth looks at her sharply but Tatjana is staring into the punchbowl. In the kitchen Ted and Clough have started singing. ‘I wanna be near you. You’re the one, the one for me.’

Tatjana shoots a sidelong glance at Ruth. ‘I think I felt a spark though.’

‘What?’

‘I think he was attracted to me,’ says Tatjana. ‘I felt it.’

Ruth says nothing. She doesn’t quite know what to make of the new, sexually confident Tatjana. She prefers the quiet girl sitting in the pine forest, drinking wine in defiance of the wolves.

‘He’s married,’ she says at last.

‘And his wife is very beautiful,’ says Tatjana, ‘but not clever enough for him, I think.’

‘I wanna be near you,’ bellow Ted and Clough from the kitchen. ‘You’re the one for me.’

Ruth suddenly feels very tired. She wants to lie down and sleep for a week. Would it be very rude to go to bed and ask the last one out to turn off the lights?

Judy appears at her shoulder. ‘Bye, Ruth. Thanks for a lovely evening.’

‘You’re not driving are you?’ Ruth doesn’t know what was in the punch but she’s betting it was ninety per cent proof.

‘No, Trace is giving me a lift. As soon as she can stop Cloughie singing, that is.’

In the other room, the concert ends abruptly. Not for the first time, Ruth envies Trace’s natural authority.

‘You must come on my hen night,’ says Judy. ‘It’s a week on Saturday. I’m dreading it.’

‘Why do you want me to come then?’ laughs Ruth. ‘So I can dread it too?’

‘I need someone on my side.’ Judy turns politely to Tatjana who is still standing by the punch. ‘You must come too. A fine English tradition for you.’

‘I’d love to,’ says Tatjana, much to Ruth’s surprise.

Ted also cadges a lift with Trace, leaving Cathbad, Ruth, Freya and Tatjana to start to clear away plates and eat the last of the crisps. Phil and Shona left shortly after the ceremony and Dieter and Clara seem to have disappeared.

‘That was an interesting experience,’ Tatjana is saying to Cathbad.

‘It’s important,’ says Cathbad, ‘to introduce the baby to the household guardians.’

Tatjana stacks glasses neatly in the sink.

‘So, Cathbad,’ she says, ‘how long have you been a devil worshipper?’