Midwinter of the Spirit

‘Huh?’

‘The Cathedral.’

‘I thought we were going shopping!’

‘Yeah, me too,’ Rowenna said ruefully. ‘I just forgot what day it was. I have to meet my cousin, who—’ Rowenna looked up. ‘Who’s this?’

‘Where?’

‘Guy looking at you through the window.’

‘You tried that one earlier,’ Jane said.

‘He’s not bad actually, if you’re into older men. He’s wearing black. He’s all in black. I think he’s coming in.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ Jane bit off a corner of pizza. ‘It’s fucking Satan, right?’

‘He is. He’s coming in for you.’

A draught hit the back of Jane’s ankles as the door to the street opened.

* * *

Just when Merrily was in no mood to talk to him, Huw rang.

‘How are you, lass?’

‘I’m OK.’

‘I’ve rung a few times,’ Huw said. ‘I’ve prayed, too.’

‘Thanks.’

‘What’s been the problem?’

As though they’d spoken only last night and parted amicably.

‘Rat-eyes,’ Merrily said, ‘probably.’

‘Oh aye?’ No change of tone whatsoever.

She told him calmly that she had been the subject of what seemed to be a psychic attack. She told him it had now been dealt with.

‘This was what came with you into St Cosmas?’ Huw said.

‘I believe so.’

‘And it’s dealt with?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re clean, then?’

‘I believe I am. How about you?’

Huw left a pause, then he said, ‘About the hospital – I went in last night and I got a bollocking from an Irish nurse with a very high opinion of you. I said I shared that, naturally.’

‘And explained to her why you and Dobbs were shafting me?’

‘I assured her I would explain the situation fully to you at the earliest possible opportunity. Which is why I’m ringing. Can I meet you tonight?’

‘I don’t know,’ Merrily said. ‘I have other problems.’

‘Happen I can help.’

‘Happen I don’t want you to.’

‘Merrily…’

‘What?’

‘We have a crisis.’

‘Who’s we?’

‘You, me, your Cathedral – the C of E.’

‘Do you want to come here?’

‘We’ll meet in your gatehouse at six. We’ll be alone then?’

‘All right,’ she said.

Lol held open the passenger door of the Astra for her. He slammed it shut and got in the other side.

Jane stared at him, coming down off her high. ‘Where are we going?’

He started the engine, put on the lights, and booted the ancient heap out into the traffic. ‘To a funeral, I’m afraid.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘Yeah, I’m kidding. I always wear a black suit on Saturdays.’

‘Oh, Christ,’ Jane said. ‘It’s Moon, isn’t it?’

Lol turned right, towards Greyfriars Bridge. She was making a point of not asking him why he’d just swanned into the restaurant like that – looking quite smooth, for Lol. It had been cool, anyway, to play along. Cool, too, that the extreme warmth of her welcome appeared to have shocked him a little.

She grinned. ‘I frightened you, didn’t I?’

‘There’s effusive,’ Lol said, ‘and there’s effusive.’

‘Darling, as it happens I was glad to see you.’ There was no way Lol would let her spend the night in C & A’s doorway. ‘What was her face like?’

‘Whose?’

‘Rowenna’s. I couldn’t see, could I? I was busy expressing my delight at your arrival.’

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘I can still taste the mozzarella.’

‘So how did she react?’

‘She looked surprised.’

‘Excellent,’ Jane said.

Lol crossed four lanes of traffic at the lights, foot down. He must be running late. She suspected there were aspects of Lol’s relationship with Moon she didn’t fully understand. Of course, the problem here was that if he’d taken time to come and find her, in his funeral suit, that suggested he was acting on specific instructions from the Reverend Watkins. In the end you couldn’t get away from her, could you?

‘You weren’t just passing, were you, Lol?’

‘Your mum told me where you were having lunch.’

‘Great,’ Jane said dully.

‘She said you’d had a row.’

‘It was a minor disagreement.’

‘Like between the Serbs and the Croats.’

‘What else did she say?’

‘She said a lot of things I’m inclined to let her explain to you personally.’

‘Look,’ Jane said, more harshly than she intended, ‘tell her to fax it or something. I’m not going back.’

‘You bloody are, Jane.’

‘You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to.’

Lol turned left into the crematorium drive. ‘You’re right.’ He sighed. ‘I probably can’t even trust you to stay in the car while I go inside.’

God, he looks so kind of desolate.

‘Yes, you can,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, Lol.’

Denny had been wrong. The modern crematorium chapel was at least half-full. Distant relatives, he explained to Lol – nosey bastards whose faces he only half remembered. Also, a pair of archaeologist friends of Moon’s from Northumberland, where she’d lived for a couple of years. And Big Viv and her partner, Gary. And the Purefoys, Tim and Anna. And Dick and Ruth Lyden.

And Moon, of course. Moon was here.

Denny had booked a minister. ‘Though she’d probably have preferred a fucking druid,’ he said, seeming uncomfortable and aggressive. He wasn’t wearing his earring; without it he looked less amiable, embittered. He looked like he wanted to hit people. His wife Maggie was here, without the children. She was tall, short-haired and well dressed, and talked to the relatives but not much to Denny. He must be difficult to live with right now.

The minister said some careful things about Moon. He said she was highly intelligent and enthusiastic, and it was a tragic loss, both to her brother Dennis and his family and to the world of archaeology.

Denny muttered and looked down at his feet. Anna Purefoy wept silently into a handkerchief. They sang two hymns, during which Lol gazed at the costly oak coffin and pictured Moon inside it, with her strange, hard hands