A Crown of Lights

trees.

‘Either the charm didn’t work,’ she said, ‘or it worked all too well.’

‘Get rid of it,’ Merrily said.

Half an hour ago, she’d been waiting with Betty when the orthopaedic surgeon, who was called Frank, had explained that Robin’s pelvis was smashed, and there was some spinal damage. ‘Will he walk again?’ Betty had asked. Frank couldn’t answer that one, yet, but he said he was hopeful.

Merrily said bitterly, ‘War in heaven, and all the casualties down here.’

‘Don’t you go losing your faith,’ Betty said. ‘It’s only religion. Faith is faith, but religions are no better than the people who practise them.’

60 Lamplit

IT WAS STILL only mid-morning when the bedside phone awoke her. She hadn’t been in bed long enough for it to be a sleep of any depth – although the half-dreams were dark – and she was instantly focused and expecting the worst.

She didn’t expect him.

‘It all comes down to demonization, you see, Merrily,’ he said, as if they’d been talking for hours. ‘I was demonized from an early age – twelve, to be exact. He was the little Christ, and I was the Antichrist. He and his mother were always very efficient at the demonization of anything in their way. And he still is, of course.’

He sounded as if he’d been drinking. His voice was dark and smooth and intimate. Merrily sat up in bed, fumbling a cardigan around her shoulders.

‘He wanted dragons, so I sent him dragons. I sent him serpents.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It isn’t all done by magic. The postal service can be equally effective, and now the Internet and e-mail... almost as fast as one can transmit a thought. But then it’s all electricity, isn’t it? Everything’s a form of electricity. Science is catching us up. Soon everyone will be doing magic. What a dispiriting thought.’

She heard the clink of a glass against his teeth.

‘I’ve been a bad man, in my way. No worse, I would submit, than Simon, but bad enough. Sometimes I yearn for redemption. Is that possible, do you think, Merrily?’

‘It’s possible for everybody.’

The sunlight penetrated through the crack in the curtains and put a pale stripe down the bed. Celtic spring had come.

‘I hoped you’d say that,’ he said. ‘So... will you help me? Will you help a poor sinner onto the... lamplit path?’

She froze. ‘Who told you about that?’

He laughed. ‘I know everything about you. You’re in bed, aren’t you?’

She felt his Sean-breath, the warm dusting, and she was afraid.

‘I can just see you in bed,’ he said, ‘all rumpled, a little creased around the eyes. Rumpled and smelling of softness and sleep.’

She remembered the blood he could not have seen on her hands. She remembered the red and white lights on the motorway, false lights in a night of filth.

‘Can we meet?’ Ned Bain said. ‘And discuss my redemption?’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ she said, and put down the phone and sat there in bed, shivering.

Notes and credits

MOST OF THE stranger aspects of this novel are based (as closely as the law and the rules of fiction allow) on fact. The ‘Abracadabra’ charm can be seen at the charming Cascob Church; the Four Stones nestle behind their hedge off the Kinnerton road; and, although you may have difficulty finding Old Hindwell itself, the Hindwell Brook still meanders and sometimes rushes through the Radnor Valley. The area’s huge importance in the Bronze Age was uncovered by the Clwyd-Powys Archaeological Trust and documented by Alex Gibson in The Walton Basin Project, published by the Council for British Archaeology. The locations are illustrated and described in Merrily’s Border (Logaston Press).

My thanks to Glyn Morgan, who pointed me down the dark lane of border spirituality with a very timely photocopy of the witch charm, found in the wall of an old house in North Radnor.

The imperfect Radnor Pentagram also exists. It’s true that only four churches are listed in the official tourism brochure, but the pentagram can be completed by adding St Michael’s, Discoed, an ancient church with an even more ancient yew tree in front. Thanks to Carol for first suggesting what proved to be more than an idea, and to the distinguished medieval historian, Alun Lenny, of Carmarthen, for completing the picture, with the help of Francis Payne’s classic work on Radnorshire.

Pam Baker told me a hospital ghost story and explained about oestrogen, etc. Quentin Cooper discussed a few of the problems involved in owning a church, and extra details were filled in by Brian Chave, Steve Empson and Steve Jenkins at the Church of England. Geoffrey Wansell and John Welch helped with the setting up of the Livenight programme.

Thanks also to Neil Bond, Sally Boyce, Jane Cook, Gina-Marie Douglas, Paul Gibbons, Gavin Hooson, Bob Jenkins, Dick Taylor and Ken Ratcliffe. And, for inspiration, to the white magic of XTC and ‘Apple Venus’.

Of course, the thing would never have come together at all without my ingenious wife, Carol, who plot- doctored, character-trimmed and edited for weeks, with her usual inimitable flair, ruthlessness and lateral thinking. You can do it alone, but it’s never as good.

Lol Robinson’s songs can be found on two full-length CDs, Songs from Lucy’s Cottage and A Message from the Morning (which includes Moon’s Tune) by Lol Robinson and Hazey Jane II, produced by Prof Levin ad Allan Watson. Full details on the website www.philrickman.co.uk.

PHIL RICKMAN was born in Lancashire and lives on the Welsh border. He is the author of the Merrily Watkins series, and The Bones of Avalon. He has won awards for his TV and radio journalism and writes and presents the book programme Phil the Shelf for BBC Radio Wales.

ALSO BY PHIL RICKMAN

THE MERRILY WATKINS SERIES

The Wine of Angels

Midwinter of the Spirit

A Crown of Lights

The Cure of Souls

The Lamp of the Wicked

The Prayer of the Night Shepherd

The Smile of a Ghost

The Remains of an Altar

The Fabric of Sin

To Dream of the Dead

Coming soon...

The Secrets of Pain