Hungry Moon (6 page)

^EIGHT

^{Diana woke on Monday morning thinking about druids. She'd got onto the subject almost by accident in the Manchester library, where she'd been researching her Peak District ancestry. Her background seemed so familiar, though not the way her mother's grandfather had lived, a miner who'd carved his family a home out of the lime waste outside Buxton. But perhaps, she thought now, her sense of belonging had just been part of the peace she'd felt on the moors, the first time she'd felt peaceful since coming to England to try to adjust to the death of her parents.}

^{Her last sight of them at the Kennedy barrier was as vivid as ever, her father giving her a hug that smelled of the pipe tobacco he always bought near the New York Public Library, her mother's cool hands on her face as she murmured 'Don't worry,' Diana not knowing then why she felt anxious. The glimpse of the airliner dwindling into the blackening sky had wakened her hours later in a panic that had set her praying as she hadn't since her childhood, praying they were safe. When she'd given in to her panic and called the airport, the clerk at first suspected her because she seemed to know the plane had crashed. Not until the police had questioned her at length did they tell her that both her parents were dead.}

^{She wondered how Mann would have dealt with that-not so much that God had failed to respond to her prayers, but that if he'd wanted to take her parents he'd taken dozens of other lives just to do so. Or didn't the}

^{individual lives matter to God, just the number of lives, the statistic? All that could justify that kind of behaviour by a god would be life after death.}

^{She'd reached that conclusion in the midst of her peace on the moor. The murmur of the world had faded into the sound of the wind in her ears; the mist had withdrawn over the deserted slopes until it seemed they would never end; and as Diana had drunk in the silence and loneliness, she'd grown calm, at peace with her loss. She'd felt on the edge of passing through loneliness to whatever lay beyond.}

^{Teaching in Moonwell had, apparently, and now Mann and his aversion to druids. On the way to the school through streets glistening with mist, pinpoint rainbows shining out of flowers, she thought how much the druids had left behind: kissing under the mistletoe, throwing spilled salt over your shoulder, gargoyles as a civilized alternative to displaying the severed heads of your enemies above your roof, even calling two weeks a fortnight, since the druids measured time by nights rather than days. Druids never wrote anything down, perhaps as an aid to memory. They often spoke in triads, since three was their sacred number. The great Celtic fear was that the sky would fall and the sea overflow. By the eighteenth century the druids had become a romantic myth, but the truth seemed to be that they had been more savage, sacrificing human beings before battle - it was hard to be sure, since no account survived of their religion. Presumably the cave had been one of their sacred places, and she wished more and more that Mann would leave it alone.}

^{Mrs Scragg was waiting for her in the schoolyard, which was unusually crowded. 'My husband wants to see you in his office.'}

^{He was sitting at his desk, which looked absurdly large for him, reading a pamphlet called
Stand Up for God
and rubbing his hands together. His broad smile made his face look cramped between his chin and bristling eye-}

^{brows. 'You've some extra pupils,' he said. 'Godwin Mann arranged for us to take them. My wife will have the nine-and ten-year-olds and I'll have the eldest. I assume you can cope.'}

^{'No problem,' Diana said, determined that there wouldn't be, even when her class lined up at the sound of Mrs Scragg's earsplitting whistle and Diana saw their number had virtually doubled. All the new children looked bright-eyed and fresh-faced and eager, though some of them were sniffling from the chill that must creep into their tents. In her classroom Diana said, 'I think you're all going to have to sit two to a desk.'}

^{Her class moved over, shuffling and grumbling. When they'd made room the new children remained standing. 'May we pray first?' a boy with especially blonde hair and a Southern accent said.}

^{'Sure, if that's what you do.'}

^{The new children knelt, then gazed at the others. They were expected to kneel too, apparently, but Diana wasn't having her schoolroom routine taken over so thoroughly. 'Just bow your heads,' she said, and bowed her own a little.}

^{Eventually the newcomers finished thanking God, and sat down. 'Let's start by getting to know one another,' Diana suggested. 'Why doesn't each of you tell us your name and a bit about yourself.'}

^{'I'm Emmanuel,' the blonde boy said. 'I come from Georgia. My daddy and my uncles worked a farm there until my uncles died fighting God's war against communism.'}

^{Two English children and two from California claimed to be fighting God's war too. Sally was bristling. Suddenly she said loudly, 'My dad's in a union and he goes to church.'}

^{'You can go to church and still keep God out of your heart,' Emmanuel said. 'We'll pray for him and for you to show him the true path.'}

^{Sally stuck her tongue out at him and wrinkled her nose to stop her glasses from slipping. 'My mum says if there's another war it'll be the last one,' Jane said, 'because the bombs will kill everyone.'}

^{'You shouldn't care so long as God is your best friend,' said a Welsh girl. 'But if He isn't you'll go straight to hell when you die.'}

^{'I won't. You don't know nowt about it. Anyway, Sally's my best friend.' She reached for Sally's hand between the desks, and Sally said defiantly, 'I love Jane too.'}

^{'Girls shouldn't love girls and boys shouldn't love boys,' Jane's seatmate said. 'Godwin Mann says so. You have to offer up all your love to God.'}

^{'If you're going to argue I think you'd better just tell whoever you're sitting with your name,' Diana said, reminding herself that it wasn't their fault they were so old before their time and so insufferable, it was the way they'd been brought up. 'Now I'm going to hear each of the new children read, and the rest of you can see how much you can read by yourselves.'}

^{She'd heard two readings when Thomas's seatmate said loudly, 'You mustn't say that kind of stuff. Tell Miss Kramer the kind of dirty stuff you were saying.'}

^{'Not here, okay, Thomas? We don't want to offend anyone when there's no reason to.'}

^{'I forgive you. I'll pray for you,' Thomas's deskmate said, and Diana had the disconcerting impression that he was talking to her as well as to Thomas. That was the way the morning went, the new children not so much telling tales as telling their seatmates to confess whenever they did anything wrong, however trivial. She went into the schoolyard at lunchtime praying that they wouldn't be so puritanical while they were playing games.}

^{A radio was blaring disco music, which seemed promising until Diana realized that the lyrics, repeated over and over, were 'Upon this rock I shall build my church.' Some of the Moonwell children began to dance enthusiastically, until the owner of the radio switched it off.}

^{'You shouldn't dance like that,' she rebuked them.}

^{Some of Diana's class were teaching the newcomers to play Harry-in-the-hole. The Welsh girl, Mary, was chosen to be in the hole, to be blindfolded and try to grab a victim from the circle that surrounded her, holding hands. If she guessed who the victim was, that child had to join her and be blindfolded, and once that process started the circle wouldn't hold for long. But before the game had even begun, Mary pulled the blindfold off. 'What am I supposed to be?'}

^{'The giant who lives down the well,' Thomas said.}

^{'He means the cave,' Ronnie said impatiently. 'We poked your eyes out and threw you in.'}

^{'No, we chopped your arms and legs off and rolled you in,' Thomas told her with relish.}

^{Mary looked as if she wanted to run. Diana hushed Sally and Jane, who were holding her hands and telling her secrets, and started to intervene, but the boy with the portable radio was ahead of her. 'What's wrong, Mary?' he demanded.}

^{'They want me to play at being him down the cave, Daniel.'}

^{'You mustn't play that, any of you. Don't you know who he is? He's the devil waiting down there. He'll come for you if you don't pray to God and make sure your folks do.'}

^{A cloud rose into view above the town, blotting out the sun. Its shadow flexed rapidly over the cottages and rushed into the schoolyard, evoking a sudden stony chill. 'He's not a devil, he's a giant,' Thomas said. 'Anyway, if he gets out he'll get you first in those tents up there. He'll pick you up and turn you inside out and put you down as something else, and then you'll have to crawl about like that for ever.'}

^{Andrew spoke for the first time, haltingly. 'He can't be a devil when the cave's a holy place. My granddad said they threw the giant down there because it was holy and he wouldn't be able to get out.'}

^{'Your granddad's telling lies,' Mary said in her sharp Welsh voice. 'You should listen to Godwin Mann. He speaks with the voice of God.'}

^{'What is he then,' Andrew said, 'a telephone?'}

^{Good for you, Diana thought, and caught sight of Mr Scragg in the school doorway. 'All right now, children, don't take everything so seriously. It's only a game, after all,' she said, earning herself a contemptuous glance from Daniel. For a moment she wanted to lash out at him, and was shocked by her feelings until the whistle interrupted them. As soon as there was silence Mr Scragg said icily, 'Has anyone been up on the moor today who isn't camping there?'}

^{His gaze darted about the faces of the Moonwell children, searching for hints of guilt. 'If anyone has been I'll find out, believe me. I've just been told that someone has knocked the safety wall into the cave. It'll take more than that to drive our friends away, but I'm telling you all now there'd better be no more such incidents, or as God is my witness I won't rest until I find the culprits and give them what they deserve.'}

^{When he'd finished glaring, he stalked back into the building. 'I was going to tell you why they were wrong to throw the devil into the cave,' Daniel said, ushering Mary away, 'but I think we'd better pray for you all instead.' He and his friends did so, while Thomas and his group played loudly, though not loudly enough to drown out the prayers.}

^{The new children clearly felt Diana should have kept them quiet. Throughout the afternoon she sensed then-disapproval; once, when the chalk broke on the patchy blackboard and she muttered 'Damn,' it came at her back like a wave. Could disapproval really prevent the floral ceremony from being performed at the cave on Midsummer Eve, and if so, did it matter? Surely it stood for so much, the lost celebrations of Midsummer Day that had been disguised as St John the Baptist Day, public bonfires, dancing in the streets. Mann wouldn't have liked those medieval rites much either, she thought wryly, feeling stifled by the threat of disapproving prayer in her classroom.}

^{She'd never felt so in need of the relaxation classes that Helen from the post office organized each Monday evening. Walking along the High Street, which a mist was shortening, she passed strolling couples whom she didn't recognize, presumably Mann's followers. A thought stirred in her mind, something ominous about the way the town was now, but before she could grasp it she saw Helen tacking a notice to the outer door of the assembly rooms. 'Why, Helen, what's wrong?' Diana said.}

^{'Nothing at all. Everything couldn't be better.' Helen's round face, which was always delicately made up, looked scrubbed raw. 'But I've given up yoga, and I hope I can persuade you to. You don't need that kind of thing when you've let God into your life.'}

^NINE

^{Geraldine was threading the last of her flowers through the perimeter fence of the missile base when the police began to move everyone back. 'Come along, madam,' an avuncular constable said, 'you know this is government property. I hope you'll have something besides flowers waiting for the enemy.'}

^{'Anyone in particular?'}

^{He gave her a reproving look. 'I think we know who wants the whole world to be Communists. Would you like your children to grow up under a Communist regime?'}

^{'We haven't any children,' Jeremy said in a ragged voice. 'The one we might have had we lost. Maybe we can thank the nuclear lobby for that. There've been a lot more miscarriages since they started testing fucking bombs.'}

^{"There are ladies present, sir, if you don't mind. Just move along now, there's a good lad.'}

^{His eyes were less patient than his words, and he seemed suddenly to have grown bulkier. 'It's all right, Jeremy,' Geraldine murmured, thinking that confrontations like this were one reason why some bases were being picketed solely by women. 'We have to be going anyway. There's all the new stock to be checked.'}

^{They picked their way across the muddy trampled grass of the dale to their van. The eight-year-old engine only coughed and groaned when Jeremy tried to start it, but it caught first time for her. Jeremy threw up his hands. 'Shows how much use I am.'}

^{'You're a lot more than useful to me. I'm all right, honestly.' The policeman hadn't bothered her, even though it would have been Jonathan's birthday in just a few weeks. It was Andrew she wasn't sure about, not Jonathan. She drove fast through the mountains and up across the moors. As soon as the van was parked, she went round to the Bevans'.}

^{'Come in then,' Brian said distractedly, jutting his jaw as he led her to the kitchen where he was preparing dinner. Dried-up baked beans and sausages sputtered in a pan, soggy chips blackened under the grill above which a new plaque said 'God Lives Here.' 'Don't go thinking I do this often,' he said. 'Only when she's helping at Godwin Mann's shop and I've got half day closing.'}

^{The shop sold plaques, Bibles, pamphlets whose covers showed people beaming as if they never did anything else. 'Here, let me rescue your dinner,' Geraldine said laughing. Trust a man to do nothing but open cans and defrost packets.'}

^{'June always makes this kind of dinner.'}

^{'Well, I expect it's Andrew's favourite,' she said quickly, scraping chips off the grill pan. 'How's he getting on? What did he make of the god show?'}

^{'It isn't up to him to make anything of it.'}

^{'We've a few new children's books if he wants to choose something.'}

^{'If you want to go giving away books you could sell you aren't going to let me stop you.' He seemed uncomfortable so close to her in the small, hot, smoky kitchen, and turned away to mutter, 'We're grateful really. I know we could do with giving him more of our time and having a bit more patience. Maybe now our lives are being changed. . .'}

^{Andrew was playing soldiers on the stairs. He'd snapped off the barrel of a plastic anti-aircraft gun and was sticking his chin out like his father so as not to cry. He brightened when he saw Geraldine. 'Do you want to see my these?'}

^{'What's the matter with you?' Brian demanded. 'Do you want Geraldine to think we don't bring you up to speak properly? See my these,' he mimicked in an idiot's voice. 'Geraldine wants to give you a book to read. I wouldn't blame her now if she gave you a baby's book.'}

^{'We'll find something to show your parents how well you can read,' Geraldine said as she led Andrew into the bookshop, where Jeremy was opening cartons with a Stanley knife. 'I expect you're looking forward to when they see your school work.'}

^{'They said they won't.'}

^{Geraldine thought she'd misunderstood. 'They'll be going to see Miss Kramer at the open night next week, won't they?'}

^{'My mum has to go to God's shop then because they'll be praying, and my dad has to do something at home.'}

^{Geraldine busied herself with showing him books, because she didn't trust herself to speak. When he chose
The Jungle Book,
on impulse she followed him next door. June was waiting for him on the garden path. "Thanks for seeing him home, Geraldine. Heaven knows what he'd be up to otherwise.'}

^{'No need to overdo it, June. Diana Kramer was wondering if you'll be at the open night.'}

^{'I'd love to, but I have to go to a prayer meeting, and we can't leave the boy alone in the house.'}

^{'Jeremy or I will sit, you've only to ask. Unless,' she said, meaning to shame June, 'you'd rather we went to the school in your place.'}

^{Brian leaned out of the front window. 'Would you mind? You do know his teacher better than we do.'}

^{He looked both shamefaced and secretive, but Geraldine wasn't interested in his reasons. 'I think,' she said shakily, 'we ought to let Andrew decide who he wants to}

^go-'

^{Andrew stared at his scuffed shoes. 'Haven't you got a tongue?' June snapped, and he looked up at Geraldine. 'You and Jeremy,' he said in a small voice.}

^{"That's settled, then,' June said in what was either bitterness or triumph. Geraldine was about to retort that it was nothing of the kind when the alarm at the bookshop began to shrill.}

^{She couldn't think for the noise. She ran back into the shop just as Jeremy switched off the alarm. 'I'll call Eddings,' she said, eager to deal with him, to use up some of her anger.}

^{He wasn't at home. 'I'll tell him you called as soon as he comes in,' his wife Hazel said.}

^{'Someone else's need is greater than ours, is it?'}

^{'You might say that, yes. He's visiting our neighbours on behalf of Godwin Mann.'}

^{'I'm afraid praying isn't going to fix our alarm.'}

^{'Are you sure? Perhaps you should try while you're waiting.'}

^{Geraldine made the worst face she could manage at the receiver and dropped it into its cradle. 'When he finishes God's work he'll get round to his own,' she told Jeremy.}

^{'A pity we can't ask God to guarantee Benedict's work. And what had the Bevans to say for themselves? Don't lose your temper.'}

^{'I'm not about to lose my temper. Why should I lose my temper? There's no reason for me to lose my temper just because of people.' She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth and growled, almost screaming, and then she told him what had happened. He didn't seem to know what was best to do any more than she did; whatever they tried, she thought Andrew would be the loser. They argued about it all through dinner, though really she was arguing with herself. Eventually she admitted, T can't think.'}

^{'Shall we go out for a drink or walk or something?'}

^{'We can't if Eddings is coming.'}

^{'Go by yourself if you like. You've had a pretty grim day one way and another. I'll finish checking the stock and maybe catch you up later.'}

^{Streetlamps were lighting up in the dusk. The jagged edge of the moor above the town smouldered against the glassy purple sky. Geraldine walked quickly up the path to shake off the growing chill. How could she make the Bevans do right by Andrew? He was their responsibility, not hers. He wasn't her child. He wasn't Jonathan.}

^{Jonathan was safe, wherever he was. She'd told herself that in the chilly white-tiled Sheffield hospital: Jonathan was alive somewhere, and growing. She didn't need to see him, though sometimes she did, in dreams. She wished she could share her conviction with Jeremy, but the only time she'd tried he'd begun to humour her. Jonathan had felt threatened, in danger of ceasing to be, and she had never mentioned him again. She could keep him safe. It was Andrew who had to live in the real world and cope with whatever it did to him.}

^{She stepped onto the moor and followed the path that}

^{glowed dark green in the dusk. The chill of the limestone seeped up like mist through the grass. She walked faster, hugging herself, wondering why the chill should make her nervous. She was on the bare stone above the cave when she remembered and halted, shivering.}

^{Home from the hospital, she'd made herself give away Jonathan's clothes at once. She'd opened the chest of drawers in the room that would have been his, she'd reached in to take a handful of baby clothes, and then she'd sucked in a breath that hurt her teeth, for the clothes had felt like ice. She could feel her fingertips aching with the cold as she'd begun to shake from head to foot. She'd stood there, unable to let go or pull away, until Jeremy had found her. Later, when he'd got rid of the clothes, she'd learned that he'd felt nothing odd about them, no undue cold at all.}

^{The full moon trailed a rainbow halo over the clouds on the horizon. The moorland path reappeared, having faded under the sky that was now almost black. The tents on the higher slopes were chunks of ice. She hadn't known what the cold meant then, and she didn't know now - certainly not that it was so cold wherever Jonathan was - but she didn't want to be alone with that thought up here, especially when the moonlight made the landscape even bleaker. She hurried past the cave, heading for the path that led down to the far end of Moonwell. Then she faltered, for there was no longer a gritstone wall around the cave.}

^{In the moonlight it looked even deeper. Though she was at the edge of the stone bowl, she felt too close to the gaping dark. She started away, and a fragment of rock flew from under her heel, skittered down the bowl. For no reason she could grasp, she was terrified that it would fall into the cave. She ran for the path, stumbling, almost falling.}

^{The moonlight crept across the town below her, glinted on the roofs of cottages above the pools of streetlight. It followed her as she stepped over the edge toward the church. It glided over three faces in a narrow stained-glass window, made them appear to turn on a single neck. Among the newest gravestones, under the oak, one stone was brighter than the rest. In the moonlight it seemed almost to glow.}

^{Moonlight gathered in the churchyard as she reached the pavement. Columns of shadow stretched across the whitened grass, blurs at the ends of the columns groped over the church wall. Geraldine peered across the road, then she crossed to the pavement bordering the churchyard. She still couldn't see the name on the glowing headstone, couldn't tell what kind of stone it was that was able to reflect the moonlight so strongly, almost as if it were shining itself. She paced along the railings and lifted the latch of the iron gate.}