‘So he doesn’t believe all this just to spite Ben?’
‘No. No, I don’t think so. He’s very sincere. Ben actually has a lot of respect for him. Why else would he have called him in to try and help you. I think Ben is a bit wary of the church’s teaching on some things. He’s not very happy about exorcism and hell and damnation. He’s a gentle soul, is Ben. He would prefer to ask nicely for ghosts to leave.’ He smiled. ‘He’s genuinely worried about the Kieran Scotts of this world and their approach. He sees that as very damaging, not just to you, but to the souls involved.’
Abi’s eyes widened. ‘I didn’t realise he felt like that.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘But that leaves the question, has someone suggested that I be exorcised? Someone apart from Kier, I mean? I don’t want to be exorcised and I am sure you don’t want your resident ghosts to be moved on. We are all very happy as we are. Has the bishop suggested it?’
Mat shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. We were only asked to give you bed and board.’ He gave her a weary grin. ‘Ben is in charge of the spiritual department.’
‘Is he furious with me for running out on him?’
‘No. He’s furious with Justin.’
‘And Justin has gone?’
‘I can’t help but say I hope so.’
Abi nodded. ‘I can see why he’s such a disruptive force around here.’
Mat stood up. ‘Well, it’s very late. I’m for my bed. Will you turn off the lights when you go up?’
She nodded. ‘Of course. I’ll sit here for a few minutes longer and finish my tea.’ Behind the wire mesh of the fireguard a lone flame flickered, throwing shadows up into the chimney.
Why had she said the ghosts were happy? Mora wasn’t happy. Mora was worried. Afraid. Frantically trying to contact her. And she, Abi, had seen off the one man who might be able to help. She sighed, picturing Justin for a moment. His eyes with their steady half-humorous gaze, his face with the same strong bones as his brothers, the long straight nose, the smile which like theirs could be so attractive and had, she had thought for a while, that extra something that makes a man irresistible to women. She bit her lip. He could have helped her feel her way through the enigma which was that small family, out there in the garden, trapped in some eternal cycle of fear and retribution. Were they trying to explain? To exonerate themselves for their actions? To tell the world what had happened? Or were they, whatever she had felt to the contrary, merely replaying an endless video, trapped somehow in the ether, shadows without souls who were doomed to re-enact forever some small part in what was arguably the most momentous piece of history ever.
She leaned forward to stroke Thiz as the dog came over to sit beside her, leaning against her legs. This animal at least recognised her as some sort of a healer. She smiled. She could feel it too, the warmth and reassurance flowing through her hands. So why could she not do it any more for people? For a while she sat in silence, enjoying the dog’s trust, then slowly her thoughts turned back to Justin. Why had Athena said he was a killer? She wouldn’t have made it up. But surely his own brother would have known about it if he was. Especially if he had reason to hate Justin so much.
But he had got away with it, hadn’t he. Otherwise he would be in prison.
The dog sensed Abi’s withdrawal of attention and with a huge sigh she climbed to her feet and went back to the fire. She lay down with a thump next to Pym and closed her eyes. It was a clear hint that all this thinking in the early hours was a bad thing. Abi gave a rueful smile and stood up. Tomorrow she would go and see Athena again. Force her to explain what it was exactly that Justin had done.
‘She’s gone away for a couple of days.’ Bella looked up as she went into the shop. ‘Her ex is being buried today and she’s gone to the funeral.’
Abi murmured a quick silent prayer for the deceased, who she had felt wandering so disconsolately around Athena’s flat. ‘Where has she gone, do you know?’ It was wrong to be indignant, to resent the poor man for being buried when she needed so badly to talk to his ex-wife. No, it wasn’t just wrong, it showed how completely skewed her values had become.
‘London somewhere.’
So, she was not going to find out from Athena what she meant, not today at any rate. That left Ben, to whom she owed a huge apology.
There were no cars parked outside the Rectory, and no reply when she rang the bell. She stood for a few moments looking out across the leaf-strewn lawn, bereft. The world moved on. Everyone was busy, going about their lives. At the manor the B & B guests had packed and paid and driven away; Cal and Mat had gone off on one of their trips to Taunton. That left the Serpent Stone and Mora.
‘You were weeping just now?’ Mora came and stood near Yeshua as he sat near the sacred spring. She had waited for him to notice her, studying his face. He was lost in a reverie, his attention far away in the spaces of time where she could never dream of following him. She sat down a few paces away from him, under one of the sacred yews.
He looked at her and nodded, his eyes still full of unhappiness. ‘So much cruelty, so much hatred in the world. Sometimes in my meditations, I see such terrible things. The suffering of my people. I want to help them, but they won’t listen. They will never listen.’
‘Your people?’ she said gently. ‘That Roman said you were a king.’
Yeshua raised his hands in a gesture of despair and confusion. ‘Sometimes I feel like a king. Other times,’ he shrugged, ‘I am no-one.’ He paused. ‘When I was born,’ he went on quietly after a while, ‘there were signs in the sky. Two planets came together to form a brilliant great star, a star that foretold the birth of a king in the town where I was born, over the house where I was born. My mother was visited – ’ He paused and shook his head. ‘No matter. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Suffice to say that my father wasn’t my father, although he too came from the royal house generations before. Wise men, astrologers from far away, came to speak to my parents and they brought me gifts. They too had heard the prophecy; they had followed my star. They explained the gifts were symbols of my destiny. It made my mother terribly afraid for me and for them. Gold for kingship and myrrh for death.’ He reached across and took her hand. ‘King Herod heard about me and decided I was a rival for his throne. He resolved to have me killed, toddler as I was, and when no-one would tell him where I was – I was protected, Mora, by everyone – he ordered that all the little boys of around my age in the area should be killed.’
Mora caught her breath.
‘Herod was a vicious and ruthless man, even with his own family.’ He withdrew his hand from hers and sat, his arms around his knees, gazing down into the water of the spring. ‘Even then, after he had done such terrible things, people cared for me. They hid me and helped us when my family decided to flee the country to get away from him.’ He looked at her, and for a moment she saw, still lurking below the surface, the restless unhappy boy he must have been as he fled with his family far away from his home. ‘Those children died, Mora, to save me. That man, Flavius, represents the Roman will to stamp out any threat to their power. Herod Antipas is one of King Herod’s sons. He now governs in my country. He is different from his father in many ways, but it appears he still maintains this secret band of men dedicated to finding me – or, perhaps not just me, but anyone who might be a threat to the stability of the countries around the eastern end of the great sea. I don’t know if Flavius was one of those who slaughtered those little boys all those years ago. He is old enough to have been there, but he is one of them in his heart. And now he works for Antipas or for Tiberius himself, and he has followed me across the world, always just behind me. Never before have I seen his face except in my nightmares.’ He paused thoughtfully. ‘Never before has he come this close to killing me.’
A cold breath of wind strayed across the spring, throwing a line of ripples across the clear face of the water. He stared down into it silently. They both saw the shadows there, red, like blood. ‘When my kinsman Joseph returns with his ships I will go with him. I will meet Flavius and his like face to face, but in my own country. It is there I must confront my destiny.’ He glanced up at her. ‘Your cold, windy western winter will come soon and close the seas. I am in God’s hands. I’m so sorry, Mora, but I must be gone before then.’
She had realised long ago that there was no point in arguing. ‘How will we outwit Flavius and get you away safely?’
He shrugged. ‘I am sure we will think of something. I am sure God’s hand is over us. I will pray.’
She frowned. His single, all-powerful god was lord of all things and all men and women. It was a strange concept, and yet it wasn’t. To her, god was in the wind and the sea; he was in the trees and the waters and the clouds. God and goddess were everywhere; but maybe his idea was the right one. There was one great all- encompassing godhead and all the other gods were aspects of his power; angels and spirits that served him.
