Midwinter of the Spirit

please.

‘I just lost it completely.’ Jane was sitting with her back to the door and the front windows, watching the cook at work behind a counter at the far end. The problem with Rowenna was that she was so incredibly charming; she gave you her full attention and you felt so grateful she wanted you as a friend.

‘What did you say to her?’

‘I slagged off the Church, rubbished everything that means anything to her. Said she was ambitious and arrogant – and that I’d rather sell my soul to the Devil than spend another night there. I guess this was not what Angela had in mind when she talked about leading Mum towards the light.’

Rowenna laughed. ‘And you didn’t mean a word of it, right?’

‘I meant it at the time.’ Jane cut another slice of pizza. ‘She also said we were spending too much time together. She suggested I should be going out with boys, can you believe that?’

‘That’s uncommon,’ Rowenna said. ‘They’re usually terrified you’re going to get pregnant.’

‘Like… there’s nothing wrong with me,’ Jane said experimentally. ‘I don’t have problems in that area. I’ve had relationships. It’s just there aren’t any guys around right now that I could fancy that much.’ It occurred to her they’d rarely talked about men.

‘The choice is severely limited.’

‘Almost nonexistent.’

‘Sure.’

‘Like, I travel on the bus every day with Wall and Gittoes.’

‘Don’t,’ Rowenna said. ‘I may vomit.’

She grinned, shreds of chargrilled burger on teeth that were translucent like a baby’s. Come on, Jane thought, it might not have been her at all by the car park. It might not.

‘Could we perhaps lighten up now?’

‘I keep thinking of those tarot cards,’ Jane said seriously. ‘You said it seemed like a pretty heavy layout, right?’

‘Kitten, it’s ages since I even looked at a tarot pack. You forget these things.’

‘You don’t forget. Those are like archetypal images. They’re imprinted on your consciousness.’

‘That guy in the denim jacket fancies you.’

‘He’s looking at you. He’s just wondering how to get me out of the way. Death – that was the first of them.’

‘Yeah, but the Death card can also just mean the end of something before a new beginning.’

‘The Tower?’

‘It’s been struck by lightning. There’s a big crack, with people falling off. That speaks for itself really: some really horrendous disaster, something wrenched apart.’

‘Shit.’

‘Or it could just mean a big clear-out in your life: throwing out the stuff that isn’t important.’

‘Like, if I don’t get away, I’ll go down with the Tower?’

‘Say the Tower, in this instance, represents your mother’s faith in this cruel Old Testament God, and you’ve got to help shatter it.’

‘It could have been a prediction of what began this morning, though, couldn’t it? Everything quiet, right? Me getting ready to go out. She’s had this decent night’s sleep for once – well rested, looking much better. And then like, out of nowhere, we’re into the worst row for like… ages. It just blew up out of nothing – like the Tower cracking up. And then I say that thing to her about the Devil. It just came out; I wasn’t thinking. And that… that was the third card.’

‘Don’t panic.’ Rowenna put down her knife and fork. ‘The Devil isn’t always negative either, you know. The Devil was invented by the Christians as a condemnation of anybody who thought that they, the Christians, were a bit suspect. But actually the Devil’s vital for balance in this world.’

‘You reckon?’

‘Living with a vicar, you’re bombarded with propaganda. But when you look at the situation, all the Devil represents is doing what you want, not what you’re told. Satan is just another word for personal freedom. So maybe Satanists are just people who don’t like rules.’

‘That’s a bit simplistic, isn’t it?’

‘No, it’s not.’

‘OK, what about the low-lifes who killed that crow in the church?’

‘So?’

‘Well, that’s got to be evil.’

‘OK,’ Rowenna said. ‘One, there’s nothing to say they killed the crow. Two, it was a church nobody uses – a redundant church, right? Three, what’s the difference between that and any normal protesters who disagree with what something stands for and go in and trash the place? Suppose these are just people who are seriously pissed off at how rich the Church of England is – and how totally useless, like the House of Lords… a complete con to keep people in order.’

‘Well… maybe.’

‘There’s no maybe. That was your subconscious talking. Your inner self crying out to be free by coming out with the most outrageous thing possible in a vicarage, right?’

‘Or I just wanted to get up her nose.’

‘You’re back-pedalling. You didn’t plan what you wanted to say before it came out, so it has to be an expression of your innermost desire to be free. Listen, do it.’

‘Are you crazy?’

‘There you go again. Put up or shut up. So do it: give yourself to the Devil. You just stand up and open your arms, and you breathe, in your most seductive voice: Lord Satan, take me…’ Rowenna giggled. ‘It’s just words, so it can’t harm you… but it’s also an invitation to your inner self to throw off the shackles. I reckon if you actually said that in a church, you’d get this amazing buzz.’

‘No thanks.’

‘See’ – Rowenna pointed her knife – ‘you’re just completely indoctrinated. You will never escape.’

Jane was uncomfortable. She’d felt cool and superior when she’d first come in, but now Rowenna had turned the tables. She was a wimp again, a frightened little girl.

‘Ro,’ she said. ‘Any chance of sleeping at your place tonight? I can’t go back, can I?’

‘Sure you can go back. Take Satan with you. By which I mean, go back with your head held high, with a new attitude.’

‘It would just be one night.’

‘Oh, kitten…’ Rowenna sighed. ‘That could really be a problem. We have this diplomat from the Middle East staying with us. I’m not supposed to even tell you this, because there are a lot of people want this guy dead. It’s a security job – and we’re the safe-house, you know what I mean? Armed guys in vans parked outside all night? It’s really, really tedious.’

‘Oh.’

‘It happens to us quite often. It means that anybody wants to stay with us, they have to be vetted weeks in advance in case something crops up.’

‘What am I going to do?’

Rowenna leaned over and squeezed Jane’s wrist. ‘You know your problem? You worry too much. You still have this deeply constricted inner-self. OK, the Pod will help sort that eventually – and I mean eventually.’

‘What’s wrong with the Pod?’

‘Nothing. It’s fine as far as it goes. It’s merely a reasonable outlet for bored housewives too timid to have an affair. You must have realized that by now.’

‘I thought it was quite heavy, actually.’

Rowenna smiled sympathetically. ‘Listen, I have to go now. Go on, ask me where. You’re gonna like this.’