Time's Legacy (42 page)

He walked past her to the altar step and turning beckoned her to come and stand beside him. He gave her a brief smile, then he turned to face the window, staring up at the crucified Christ. The sun was shining directly in, highlighting the colours. The face of the man on the cross was inscrutable. ‘Dear Lord,’ he murmured. ‘Bless us and hold us in your hand. Especially look with mercy on your servant, Abi, and cast from her the devil, Mora, and all her illusions – ’

‘No!’ Abi turned on him once more. ‘How dare you!’

Kier was ready for her. He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her. ‘I’m sorry, Abi, I truly am. But I have to do this. Kneel down.’

‘No!’

‘Yes!’ He was forcing her to her knees on the step. With her arm held so painfully behind her back, Abi gave in and subsided. He could hold her easily now with one hand. She couldn’t move. She watched in real fear as he groped in his pocket and produced a small bottle. ‘This is holy water, Abi. It will remove her. Don’t be afraid, my dear. In a moment it will all be over.’ He looked up at the window again, addressing the man on the cross. ‘Lord, be with us here in this place and help me reclaim it for you. Begone from this place, every evil haunting and phantasm; depart for ever, every unclean spirit – ’

‘No! Kier, stop! You don’t know what you are doing. Don’t be so stupid!’ Abi’s protest was cut short as he gave a small vicious jerk on her wrist, forcing it up between her shoulder blades. Her shoulder was agony.

Flipping the stopper out of the bottle with his thumb he held it over her head. ‘Almighty God, your nature is always to have mercy and to forgive: loose this your servant from every bond of evil and free her from all her sins. I ask this though Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.’ He was sprinkling the water over her hair, she could feel it, warm from his pocket. Splashes of it fell on the step where she was kneeling. The sun had gone in and the window in front of them had lost its colour. He waited for a full minute, as though expecting something to happen, then he released her arm. She fell forward, trying not to sob out loud as she cradled her shoulder in her other hand. Kier was watching her closely.

‘There,’ he said at last. ‘Now you will be safe. Pray, Abi. Ask for God’s forgiveness and protection.’ He turned away and walked back down the aisle. Near the door he stopped and pulled out his mobile phone. As Abi staggered to her feet and turned to look after him she heard him speaking urgently. ‘Ben? It’s Kier Scott. Can you come at once? I’m in St Mary’s Church. Abi is here. I’ve prayed with her and cast out this demon who has been possessing her, but it would be good to have you here for back up.’ He flipped the phone shut and put it back in his pocket. Then he went to sit down at the back of the church.

Abi sank onto the altar step. She had begun to tremble all over.

Lugging her suitcase up the steps after her, Athena inserted her key in the door and pushed it open. She was exhausted. The last couple of days had been hell. Funerals were never good, but this one had been particularly bad. The service, if that was the word, had been held at the West London Crematorium. It had been arranged by Tim’s sisters. She had never got on with them or they with her. They had shaken hands with her, tight-lipped, when she arrived and then turned away to go into the chapel which was fairly full. Apart from them, every person there was a stranger. How could she have so completely lost touch with him? Their parting had not been acrimonious. Sad, yes. Regretful, even cross. But the anger had been fleeting and directed at circumstances and belief systems, not at one another. She turned into a row at the back and sat down. The order of service was bleak. Two hymns. A prayer. An address. The man who gave the address did not seem to have known him at all. He certainly hadn’t known the Tim she remembered from the past. The funny, energetic, artistic, musical man who had wooed her and lured her away. She expected to hear some wonderful music blasting round the chapel. Some of Tim’s own recordings; harpsichord music, a symphony, piano. Anything. All they got was a recorded placebo on an organ. She wanted to leap up and tell them what kind of man he had been but she didn’t. She sat quietly and looked at the pine coffin with its wreath of chrysanthemums and wished she had thought to bring some flowers herself. Her own farewell would have to be private, somewhere only Tim could hear her.

She had spent a second day in London, then a sleepless night with a long-suffering friend who had agreed to put her up in exchange for a visit to Somerset the following spring and she had set off for home at six a.m. She needed tea and breakfast, a shower and bed. Dropping the case in the hall she walked into the kitchen and stopped dead. Justin was sitting at the table reading a newspaper. At his elbow she saw he had found her percolator and the pack of coffee she kept for visitors. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘Waiting for you.’ He folded the newspaper and set it down. ‘Where have you been?’

‘None of your business. You get out now.’ She paused. ‘How did you get in, anyway?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘And how nice to see you too.’

‘Justin, I am very tired. I have just had a long drive. I am in no mood to mess about.’

‘OK.’ He gave her an appraising look. ‘I’m sorry. I asked Bella for the spare key. Don’t blame her – I charmed it out of her.’ He gave her his best heart-warming smile. ‘I knew you’d be back soon or you would have asked her to come and water your plants.’ He glanced out of the window where a hanging basket was gently swinging to and fro in the breeze. ‘And I need to ask you something. Just answer me this one question, then I shall go. Why did you tell Abi Rutherford that I had killed someone?’

‘Because it’s the truth.’ She held his gaze.

‘You know it’s not.’

‘You claimed you could help my sister. You reassured her. You drew her into your stupid belief system. You told her not to bother with doctors. You convinced her she could get well without the help of orthodox medicine so she cancelled that last operation. She refused chemo. And she died. And that was your fault!’ There was a sob in her throat.

He nodded slowly. ‘She made her own choices, Athena. All I did was show her that she had choices. You know as well as I do that surgery would not have helped her in the long run. Her family, and that includes you, were desperate to do something, anything, to keep her with you and that was understandable, but you were thinking of yourselves, not of her. This way, she had a few months at home, happy and positive months, and she was in a position to say her farewells with dignity. It was what she wanted.’

Athena slumped down into the chair opposite him. ‘She would have still been here. She would have been alive now.’

‘No, Athena, she wouldn’t.’

He reached up to the shelf for a mug and poured her a cup of coffee from the percolator beside him. ‘Drink this. Calm down. Think about it. I was very fond of Sunny. I wouldn’t have done anything to hurt her, not in a million years.’

She reached for the mug and took a sip. She winced at its bitterness. ‘I’ve just been to Tim’s funeral.’ She changed the subject abruptly.

‘I heard he had gone. I’m sorry.’

‘I don’t even know where he died. His sisters had arranged the most god-awful cremation.’ Her eyes filled with tears.

‘You can do something for him here. That’s what he would like. He always loved you, Athena.’

‘Did he?’ She looked up at him. ‘How do you know?’

‘Because I do.’ He gave a slow smile. ‘Believe me.’

‘You’re always so damn certain about these things.’

‘Some things, yes.’

‘I’ll tell Abi I was wrong to say that about you.’

‘I wish you would. She is in deep trouble and I want to help her. It’s not very reassuring to be told that the man who can set you on the right path is the next best thing to Dr Crippin.’

She gave a watery grin. ‘Sorry.’ She stood up and went to throw her coffee down the sink and rinsed the mug under the tap. Switching on the kettle she reached for a tin of herbal teabags instead. ‘You think she is in real trouble?’

‘She is very sensitive. In every sense of the word.’ He took a sip of his own coffee. She watched for him to grimace, but he appeared to enjoy every mouthful. She couldn’t believe that someone who claimed to be spiritually advanced, a druid and a shaman, could allow anything so bitter and strong and filthy to pass his lips. ‘It’s really strange,’ he went on thoughtfully. ‘As a priest she should have been given the tools to deal with the situation which has arisen, but either she wasn’t, or she doesn’t have the experience, or the right training.’ He paused. ‘And she’s too inhibited. On the one side by the church and on the other, so Cal tells me, by a formidable bully of a father. She needs instruction.’

‘And you can help her.’

He nodded.

‘By destroying her Christian faith.’

‘No.’ He looked up sharply. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘Then how? What on earth can you do to help a Christian?’

He smiled at her. ‘I’ll think of something.’ He stood up. ‘In fact I might go back there now.’ He leaned forward and gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand. ‘Go safely, Athena. If you need me, you know where I am.’

Neither Abi nor Kier spoke, each sat sunk in their own thoughts as the minutes ticked by. The church felt very empty. Abi could feel the desolation. It was as if the heart of the place had been ripped out. She could still see the spots of water on the stone floor. How could he have used holy water against her? Against Mora. Against Jesus himself. It was crazy. And wrong. So wrong. When the door latch clicked up and the door swung open she didn’t move.

Kier stood up. ‘Ben, at last!’

Ben came in, shaking raindrops from his jacket and looked round, seeing Abi still sitting on the altar step. She didn’t move or greet him. ‘What’s happened?’ He swung to face Kier. He was speaking in a whisper.

‘I performed a minor exorcism.’ Kier straightened his shoulders. ‘Nothing heavy. Prayer and holy water. To get rid of this presence that’s been haunting her. It worked well I think.’

‘You think,’ Ben echoed. ‘Wait here.’ He pointed back at the seat and Kier sat down.

Ben walked towards Abi, studying her demeanour. She still hadn’t looked up. ‘Abi? Are you all right?’ He paused beside her. ‘What happened?’

‘Didn’t he tell you? He assaulted me! He twisted my arm. And he splashed me with holy water and bade Mora begone. He tried to exorcise the church. The church, Ben!’ At last she looked up. He saw fury and despair in her eyes in equal measure. ‘This special, beautiful, sacred place. He tried to exorcise it.’

Ben sighed. He shouldn’t have touched her. ‘Prayers and holy water will harm no-one unless they are evil, Abi, you know that.’

‘But she’s gone! She knew he meant her harm. He banished her. Just as we were going to talk.’ She was suddenly aware that Kier had tiptoed up the aisle behind them.

‘Did she tell you that this fiend, Mora, was a druid priestess, Ben? And did she tell you that Mora claimed to have made love to Our Lord Jesus Christ!’ Kier’s voice was heavy with disgust.

Ben looked at Abi sharply. ‘You told him about your theory that Jesus himself was here?’

‘It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have.’ She was still sitting on the step, her arms round her knees. Then she looked up again. ‘And I never said Mora made love to him. She was in love with him, that is a very different matter.’

Ben was struck dumb for a moment. He looked at each of them in turn, then he shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t have told anyone.’

‘I know.’ She buried her face in her arms. ‘And Kier has made it seem dirty and evil and heretical.’

‘It is heretical, Abi,’ Kier put in. ‘She needs care, Ben,’ he went on. ‘I think she’s having some sort of nervous breakdown. This is the result of the strain she’s been under. You should have taken this whole episode more seriously. You’ve breached your role as her spiritual mentor. This has escalated out of all control now and we have to act at once. To save her.’

Abi looked up. ‘I’ve had enough of this.’

Ben hesitated. He looked from one to the other and shook his head. ‘I think we should go back to the house,’ he said at last. ‘Come on Abi, let me give you a hand.’ He held his hand out to help her up from the step.

She ignored it. ‘I want Kier to leave.’

Ben looked up at Kier. ‘She’s right. I think you should go. Leave this to me.’

‘I left it to you last time,’ Kier retorted. ‘And look what’s happened. You did nothing!’

‘Abi and I have been working on all this slowly,’ Ben said patiently. ‘There is no cause to be dramatic. Abi’s experiences need to be explored and prayed about and that’s what we have been doing. Please go. Your presence can only exacerbate matters.’

Kier’s face reddened in anger. ‘It seems to me I am the only person who cares about her!’

‘Go away, Kier!’ Abi scrambled to her feet. ‘For God’s sake! How many times? You don’t understand me. You don’t understand what is happening to me. Your reactions to this whole thing are archaic. I came down here to get away from you!’

‘Go, Kier!’ Ben said forcibly before the other man had a chance to react. ‘Go now.’

Kier shook his head. ‘My conscience won’t let me. I have to deal with this. You’re obviously not going to. “Your enemy the devil walketh about, as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” Don’t you see it, man! In God’s name, open your eyes.’

Behind them the door opened. For a second none of them turned round, then Kier looked up. His eyes widened and Abi saw the skin over his cheekbones blanch.

‘What have we here? A gathering of vicars. Does that make a synod?’ Justin’s voice rang out with authority as he walked slowly towards them up the aisle, sweeping his rain-soaked hair back from his eyes with his hand. He gazed round, hastily taking in the situation. ‘You don’t look happy, Abi.’

‘I’m not. I want Kier to leave.’

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Justin gave a grim smile. ‘And Ben?’

‘Ben is fine,’ his brother retorted. ‘But he would also like Kier to leave.’ He turned to Kier. ‘If you would be so kind.’

Kier stared from one to other of the men, his eyes wild. ‘No!’

‘It is strange how we seem to have been in this situation before,’ Justin said calmly. ‘You seem to make a habit of being where you are not wanted, my friend. I think it would be as well if you left. I would be sorry to have to use force in a house of God.’