‘The most ancient of the Christian churches were built on sites that were already sacred,’ Ben said thoughtfully as they sat with their guests eating a late breakfast at Woodley. ‘As we know Pope Gregory sent instructions to Augustine to reconsecrate pagan temples for Christian use.’ He looked up at the others. ‘Our St Mary’s is one of those, and so, of course almost certainly, is the abbey in Glastonbury unless they were already dedicated to Christ by the Celtic church.’
The bishop leaned forward and helped himself to more homemade marmalade. ‘I think we would all agree on that.’
‘Sometimes,’ Ben glanced at him cautiously, ‘I have always suspected, there is a residue left of their previous incumbents.’
Greg nodded. ‘I can substantiate that. I have dealt with sites where ancient pagan shadows remain. It is often the case where there have been problems with the church. The cleansing and maintenance of prayer space is something that ancient priests were taught as part of their training, but since the Reformation a lot of important knowledge has been lost. Sometimes just praying is not enough.’
‘Incense?’ the bishop said.
‘Indeed,’ Greg said. ‘Not just a pretty smell. And also of course the efficacy of spiritual cleansing depends so much on the pray-er.’
‘And if the pray-er,’ the bishop echoed Greg’s emphasis, pleased with the phrase, ‘is not up to scratch for some reason, he can cause more harm than good.’
Greg sighed. ‘I fear so,’ he replied. ‘There is so much to think about. I don’t like to think of previous gods and goddesses as devils.’
The bishop looked at him enquiringly, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth. ‘We are a missionary church, Greg,’ he said reprovingly. ‘Christ himself insisted on that. It is one of the commandments. “Thou shalt have no other gods but me”.’
‘Which isn’t to say that the other gods didn’t, and don’t, exist,’ Greg retorted quietly. ‘In this day and age we would not dare speak out against a Hindu god. So why do we still get away with turning our old gods, Herne the Hunter, or Pan into the devil?’
‘Originally, because he was so real,’ Ben put in thoughtfully. ‘Talking to people round here, where there are more pagans per square inch than in your average town, I would say I have quite a good angle on what they worship and why. They want a god or gods who is or are approachable. Not someone accessed through an intermediary and kept at arm’s length. The gods they worship are far more like what we would call angels. Guardian angels; nature angels, perhaps. Devas, they call them, borrowing the name from the Hindu pantheon; spirits in charge of the elements and of trees and flowers. I find the idea delightful. And I don’t find it anti-Christian. God and Christ himself acknowledge the reality of angels.’
‘Good point.’ The bishop nodded. He sighed. ‘It is so very easy to understand the position of the young, especially young women, in resenting the inflexible patriarchy of our church. I had hoped we were taking steps to change, to be less puritan, less authoritarian, but people like Kier do not make that easy.’ He sighed again. ‘Well. First things first. Before anything else, we must call off the police and make sure this is not logged as an attempted murder or anything like that. Next we have to find Kier and I have to persuade him to come back with me to Cambridge. Then we, or more likely you, Greg, have to perform some kind of exorcism, I fear, to sort out this ancient bloodshed and its awful repercussions down the centuries and after that we have to decide what to do about Abi’s visions of Christ. They can’t be made public. You do all realise that?’
‘Why not?’ Cal felt it was time to stand up for the female sex, and say something.
‘Why not?’ The bishop looked at her askance. ‘Come on, Cal!’
‘You have proof that Jesus existed; that he came to Britain, that all the legends are true and Britain is a special holy place, and you say why!’
‘Proof?’ Mat said with a wry smile. ‘I think David’s point is that we don’t have that, Cal. Not by a long way. And even if we did, think Lourdes; think mobs; think fundamentalists; think tourist junk. Think Abi being lynched.’
‘And that is just for starters,’ Ben put in. ‘David is right, Cal. It can’t happen. It mustn’t happen.’
‘And how are you going to stop Kier telling the world, as a way of justifying himself, that his curate went insane and started having visions?’ she said furiously.
‘One might say that so did a lot of the saints, of course,’ Greg said.
‘We won’t let him say those things, Cal,’ David said, ignoring the comment from his deliverance minister. ‘We have to make sure he doesn’t. And we will. Now, have you heard from Abi this morning? They did get there safely I assume?’
‘Abi and the druid priest?’ Cal was suddenly really angry. ‘Yes, they got there safely. You don’t actually believe anything, do you? It’s all for show. Keep the status quo and keep everyone calm. Don’t scare the horses!’
Mat got up and went round to stand behind her chair. He put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Calm down, my love. We are trying to do some damage limitation, that’s all.’
‘What about the food that Kier left in the barn?’ Greg asked suddenly. It seemed wise to change the subject. ‘Has anyone been down there to collect it? Supposing someone finds it and eats it in the mean time?’
‘He didn’t poison it,’ Ben said thoughtfully. ‘I am prepared to bet on it. Well, no, perhaps not on someone’s life; it would be wise to confirm it one way or the other. I wonder if we can have it tested somewhere without the police finding out.’
David nodded. ‘It would help us judge his state of mind to know the truth. I’ll ask Donald to see to it.’ Donald, the bishop’s chaplain, had been the overnight driver. He was at present upstairs asleep.
When the phone rang it was Mat who answered. He turned back to the table. ‘That was Justin,’ he said. ‘Kier has followed them to Ty Mawr.’
‘Don’t let him see you!’ Justin turned away from the phone as Abi peered through the curtains. Kier had returned with his car and parked outside the cottage right in front of the door. He was sitting at the wheel, his arms folded, staring straight ahead through the windscreen.
‘Your smudging didn’t work, then.’ She walked back to the fire.
He smiled. ‘I think it did as far as it went. After all it stopped him sending malign thoughts through the letterbox.’
She acknowledged the comment with a wry grin. ‘Is the bishop coming to get him?’
He nodded. ‘Though it’s a long way to come on the off chance that he will stay here.’ He paused. ‘Shall we ask him in?’
‘You’re insane!’
‘No. Druids are negotiators. We like to discuss things. And in any case there are two of us and only one of him. Come on, Abi. You are a Christian. You should be turning the other cheek.’
‘I am not a very good Christian.’ She felt like the sulky child again. She didn’t need this. She wanted the door to stay locked; for someone to take Kier away and the sun to come out so she could sit outside in Justin’s beautiful little garden, looking at the view and feeling safe.
Justin was watching her with wry amusement. He could see the conflict going on inside her. ‘Abi, there is a car on its way with no less than four clergymen in it, one of them a bishop. Don’t you think we owe it to them to keep the culprit on the scene?’
She turned to look at him. ‘You just want to see if you can sort him before they get here!’
He smiled broadly. ‘That thought had occurred to me. But in fact this is a problem for Kier’s colleagues. I don’t understand the technicalities of Church of England dogma. I would like to try and put the case for open-mindedness and free thinking though.’
She took a deep breath. ‘All right.’
‘Really?’
She nodded.
‘OK.’ He turned towards the door. ‘First, go and hide your Serpent Stone. The sight of it would probably send him right over the top. I’d hate to think of him snatching it and chucking it off a cliff or something. Tuck it under the bed or somewhere.’
He waited for her to disappear down the passage towards her bedroom, then he slid back the bolt and pulled open the door.
Abi sat on the bed for a moment, holding the stone in her hands, reluctant to go back and face him. Was this
