The Prayer of the Night Shepherd

pointing at Ben.

Ben cleared his throat. ‘Well… good morning. And I think it’s a morning when none of us will be… altogether sorry to see daylight.’

Murmurs and smiles, Jane thinking, Buggered if I’m shooting any of this.

‘Because of the weather, there are fewer of us than anticipated, but I think the essential people are here — most of them. To be honest, I think we’ve all been… shattered by what’s happened tonight. And as we really don’t know how it’s going to turn out…’ Ben looked directly into Antony’s camera. ‘I’m sorry, Antony, I really don’t know how safe I am. I don’t know how much of this is going to be sub judice, do I?’

‘OK.’ Antony stepped out. ‘For anyone in doubt, here’s the situation. The police tell me that someone is likely to be charged with murder sometime today. The whole thing then becomes no-screen until after the trial. If I’m any judge of anything, I would see this going out at the earliest possible opportunity after sentencing. In other words, you can all say what the hell you like.’

Beth Pollen said, ‘And how do the police feel about us doing this now?’

Antony grinned, kind of piratical in the candlelight. ‘If I may quote the Senior Investigating Officer: “Anything that keeps these weirdo bastards out of my hair for a couple of hours is perfectly fine by me.” ’

Nobody laughed.

‘As long we understand where we are,’ Ben said. ‘I, um, was also given the impression that Mrs Watkins would be joining us. Is that—?’

‘I’m here, Mr Foley.’

Mum was sitting on the steps like some sort of elf. Jane hadn’t even noticed her. Instinctively, she switched on her camera.

‘Super.’ Matthew Hawksley stood up, pulling out another stool.

‘It’s OK,’ Mum said. ‘I’m not staying. I mean, very pretty and everything, but I’m sorry, I really wouldn’t feel too happy about conducting a religious ceremony in, erm’ — she waved a hand at the candles — ‘Titania’s boudoir?’

‘I’m sorry, too,’ Beth Pollen said, ‘but we were very firmly given the impression—’

‘I’m not backing out,’ Mum said. ‘I’m just not doing it down here.’

Jane noticed Alistair Hardy straightening up on his stool, looking disturbed.

Mum smiled. ‘Nor in Hattie Chancery’s room. I, erm… I thought we might use the dining room. If that’s OK. It’s a bit cold, but…’

‘Mrs Watkins…’ Antony abandoned his camera. ‘Not only is it, as you so perceptively noted, a bit too cold, but it has absolutely no bloody atmosphere either.’

‘It’s got a stained-glass window.’

‘Which, like all stained-glass windows, doesnae function as intended at night.’

Mum stood up, shrugging. ‘I’m sorry, that… that’s really not my problem.’

Antony Largo looked furious. Deep in the shadows, and in spite of Natalie and Jeremy and the whole depressing situation, Jane momentarily grinned.

‘Carry on here, by all means,’ Mum said, ‘but if you want to join me… say, twenty minutes?’

Had this been an authentic castle or even a manor house, there would have been a chapel. The dining room, with its secular stained glass, was no substitute; the stained-glass window was thick as a boarded barn door, and the air felt milky and astringent. Worst of all, when Merrily knelt on the thin carpet and prayed, it was like tossing stones down a bottomless well.

But at least it was empty and it was dark.

She said the Lord’s Prayer and St Patrick’s Breastplate. She prayed for Lol, having tried the number again and found it continuously engaged and then, when it started ringing again, had no answer. Another bottomless well.

Blank minutes passed. She stood up, half-relieved, when the door opened and Jane slid in and waited there in silhouette, hands behind her back, ten years old again.

‘You offended Antony.’

‘I suppose that’s going to screw us for getting DIY SOS into the vicarage,’ Merrily said wearily.

‘This is Channel Four.’

‘I know. And I don’t think I want to be on TV again.’

‘You could say a flat no to Antony.’

‘I don’t think we’d have time for the row that would cause.’

‘Time?’

The time is nearly up.

‘What do you want me to do?’ Jane asked.

‘To be honest, flower, I don’t really want you here at all, but if you’ve got to stay, sure, carry on with the camerawork.’

‘I mean, do you want me to do anything?’

‘Well, you could see if you could find me a jar, preferably one that hasn’t had alcohol in it, and fill it with water.’

‘You’re going to bless it?’

‘Uh-huh. But first, if you could give me a hand with these tables…’

They put on the lights and pushed two of the dining tables together under the stained-glass window. With the ceiling lights on, the glass was the colour of dried mud.

‘Why here?’ Jane asked. ‘Why this room?’

‘Oh, well, it’s kind of neutral, isn’t it? It’s a big open space, no crannies, no cupboards. Unlike the kitchen. Also, the kitchen’s too close to Stanner Rocks. I haven’t seen it in daylight, but I get the feeling the kitchen’s dominated by the rocks.’

‘Isn’t that the point?’

‘Erm…’

‘Mum, what’s the matter?’

‘Huh?’

‘Listen, I rang this guy who… knows something about the history of this place.’

‘At this time in the morning?’

‘I apologized. Basically, he told me that what the Chancerys did — when they invited Conan Doyle — might not have been a simple re-enactment of the Vaughan exorcism. They… well, obviously, they had this medium there, so they might have been trying to communicate with Vaughan… in the spirit of the new — you know — secular science of spiritualism. Like, after all, there was nothing to suggest Thomas Vaughan was a bad guy. I mean, did he even need exorcising in the first place?’

‘But why do it here? This is not Hergest Court, is it? Vaughan was never here.’

‘He said ask Beth Pollen.’

Merrily thought of Brigid. ‘Everybody says that.’

Frannie Bliss slipped in through the connecting door from the lounge. He stood there, taking in the rearrangement: the two candlesticks on the dining table, the holy water in a new decanter.

‘Catholics allowed?’

‘How do Catholics feel about spiritualism, Frannie?’

Bliss waggled a hand, conveying this way, that way.

‘You believe in it?’

‘Not when I’m on duty. Merrily, I accept that this is a private establishment that’s been good enough to accommodate the police and we’re in no position to question whatever else might be taking place here as long as it’s legal… but your selection of this particular room…’

‘Too close?’

‘Frankly, I wondered if the proximity of our… guest might in some way have conditioned your choice of venue.’