Mystical Circles (8 page)

A buzz ran round the table.

James snapped his fingers. “Excellent. The Reverend Theo Lucas,” he said. “Splendid man. Though I still can’t believe how he managed to get himself ordained.”

There was a good deal of table-thumping and laughter at this, until Craig’s voice dropped into the swell of sound. At once, hush descended. Juliet allowed her eye to skim the diners. Craig’s presence and personal style exerted a powerful effect upon them.

“The Wheel of Love is a tribute to the dynamic power of change,” observed Craig. “And Theo fits in with that perfectly. We all bear witness to it ourselves. Which one of you can say you’re now exactly where you were on your life’s journey when you first arrived?”

No one spoke. Again Juliet glanced around at the faces; some dreamy – as was Zoe’s – some wistful, others intense. Beth’s and Oleg’s even looked distressed. This puzzled her. As she studied Oleg, she saw his eyes dart to Beth’s face, with a yearning expression. Ah. He liked her, it seemed. But were his feelings returned? It appeared not. Beth herself spent more time looking at Craig than at anybody else.

Emotions were simmering, and evidently not everyone was happy. And how, Juliet wondered,
did
people change once Craig
got to work on them and reshaped them
? And did that include her too? She hoped not.

Once again she looked at Don. At the sight of him, edgy laughter welled up inside her. He took hold of the nearest bottle, and refilled her glass.

As he did so, Craig continued. “As we all know, only the present moment matters. Not the past.”

“Yes, yes.”

“True.”

“Absolutely.”

These words skittered up and down the table.

Then Craig’s expression sharpened. “We create our own reality,” he said. “That’s what I’ve taught you. And what I stand by.”

“Tough for some,” remarked Don.

A shaft of enmity passed between father and son. Juliet was on full alert. Then swiftly Craig changed the mood. “Don’t let me keep any of you from your food! Eat and enjoy.”

The group burst once more into animated chatter, alongside much clattering of cutlery and glasses. But Juliet felt faintly oppressed by her vulnerability. She had no idea what to expect over the coming days. How would she balance her commitment to do interviews with the need to keep track of Zoe?

One thing was for sure. She certainly wouldn’t be seduced by Craig’s brand of healing and wholeness, if that was what it was.

She turned to Don. “Have you met Theo?” she asked in a low voice.

“No. But this lot seem to give him high marks. Doesn’t inspire much confidence, does it?”

Leaning forward, Rory supplied some new information. “I met Theo at a talk Craig gave in Tetbury last November. Chatted to him for twenty minutes. Wondered what he was doing there. Then I discovered he’d had a wilderness experience. Lasted eighteen months. Crisis of faith. And I understood.”

“You did?”

“Yes. Felt I’d met a soul mate.”

This startled Juliet. “He doesn’t sound like a
regular
sort of clergyman.”

“He isn’t,” said Rory. “Though of course my knowledge is limited.” His lip curled. “Haven’t darkened a church door for years.”

“Theo sounds more than a little unorthodox,” she remarked, “if he’s willing to come here.” She heard Don chuckle.

“Oh?” Rory queried.

“Well, for instance,” she said, “it’s clear from the brochure that Craig believes we’re in charge of our own destiny.”

“Quite right, he does,” agreed Rory. “But Craig welcomes anyone who’s in retreat from the outside world.”

This intrigued her. “What of you, then, Rory? Are you here to renounce the world?”

“Sort of.”

“You do it in style.”

Before he could reply, Don distracted her, holding out the dish of risotto Beth had passed him.

“Like some, Juliet?” he asked.

“Oh, yes please. That smells and looks very good,” she said.

Rory, she noticed, had handed the serving dish on without helping himself, and his plate remained empty. She wondered whether he knew something about it the rest of them didn’t. He put his water glass down, and continued. “After Theo was ordained he served for a couple of years, then vanished from the face of the earth for several months. When I met him, I understood he’d not long returned.”

James interjected. “He visited us here in February. Rory missed him that time. You remember that was the week you fell ill, Rory?”

“Oh yes. Dreadful week.”

Laura spoke. “We’ll all be delighted to see him again. Such a dear man. Not a spark of hellfire in him. He knows all about me. He’s very forgiving.”

Rory fiddled with his linen napkin. “I expect you’ll find him interesting, Juliet,” he said. “And you too, Don.”

“Last person to judge.” Don shrugged. “Count me out.”

Before Juliet could say more, Don added, “Put it this way. When Theo shows up, he may need protecting. From my influence.”

She started at this. Rory took upon himself the task of satisfying her curiosity. “Why?” he said. “You’re not tattooed with the number 666, are you?”

Don nearly choked on something he’d eaten. Juliet found Rory’s remark highly amusing. She struggled to stop herself bursting out into hysterical laughter.

Rory banged Don on the back.

“Stop that,” Don said testily, with an abrupt change of mood.

“As you wish. Only trying to help.”

At this point, Craig entered the conversation. “Come, Father,” he said. “You don’t really believe Theo will need protecting, do you? From you? Because you’re an agnostic?”

Rory looked ominous, and sipped again from his glass of water. She noticed he still hadn’t taken any food. “Theo will need protecting from Satan most likely,” he said.

“Indeed?” said Juliet. “You truly think so? Does such a belief fit in with your teachings, Craig?”

“No,” said Craig.

Rory lowered his voice to a confidential whisper and again leaned across Don. “You’d be surprised what fits in with Craig’s teachings.”

She raised her eyebrows, careful not to commit herself.

“Since I arrived here,” Rory went on, ignoring her caution, “many strange things have happened to me. Now, I think that has to do with the effect of being in Gloucestershire, which is renowned for occult activity.”

“Planning to bite her, are you?” said James from across the table.

Craig silenced him with a look. “What kind of occult activity, Rory?” he prompted.

“Such as,” persisted Rory, “the fact that things started going wrong for me as soon as I arrived. You remember?”

“I do. Very well,” said Craig cryptically.

“Last June it was. You told me you had no room.”

“Not true. I simply asked you to commit to a short fixed-term stay.”

Juliet looked from one to the other, alerted. Why had Craig not been keen for him to stay longer? Clearly Rory had ignored this and stayed on anyway.  If Craig wasn’t happy about it, why hadn’t he chucked Rory out? She didn’t doubt the strength of his personality. She found it difficult to believe he wouldn’t deal firmly with wastrels and hangers-on, if such Rory was. But for now, the matter must remain a mystery.

She turned back to Rory, who continued unperturbed. “I remember opening my mouth to give Craig a piece of my mind, and my words came out all wrong. I was jabbering incoherently.”

“Yes,” said Craig.

A sharp silence fell. James applied butter to his bread roll in short, terse strokes of the knife.

“Can you account for that experience of Rory’s, Craig?” asked Juliet.

Then she dropped her fork. Craig’s features had changed. She wasn’t at all sure how, but his face was unrecognisable. She stared. Her fingers had turned cold. All the charm of his handsome features had melted away, and now she saw something that looked to her like an ancient face, like a stone carving on a rock in the rose-red city of Petra in Jordan.

Most creepy of all, Zoe appeared totally unaware of it. So did Rory and Don.

Juliet continued to stare at Craig, dumbstruck. As she did so, his former identity returned, shifting back into place like the next frame on a movie reel.

“Thank you, Rory, that’s enough.” Craig now evidently considered it time to insist upon a change of subject.

But Juliet could barely continue eating. Her fingers were trembling too. What had she just witnessed? Or had she imagined it? Had somebody spiked her wine?   Certainly, nobody else seemed to have noticed Craig doing anything untoward.

At this moment, Craig caught her eye. She read in his glance,
Don’t worry. You’ll understand, later
.

Zoe had now clearly noticed something. She looked suspicious.

Taking a grip on herself, Juliet lifted another forkful of food, trying to push down her disbelief at what she’d seen. She determined to find out later what had happened. But most definitely she couldn’t think of Craig in the same way again.

She turned to Rory, once more grasping for some kind of distraction. No food had touched his plate. Neither had he permitted any wine in his goblet. Instead he sipped intermittently at his glass of water.

“Not eating, Rory?” she enquired.

“Oh no.” He shuddered. “Never in public.”

“Why’s that?”

He reached across Don again, and placed slender fingers upon Juliet’s wrist. “Don’t ask,” he begged. “It can wait till another day.”

She gazed at him, mystified.  Why did he so dislike eating in front of other people? It didn’t add up. But worrying about it seemed futile.

Craig meanwhile looked as if he was starting to draw himself inward.  James had raised his eyebrows. Juliet glanced from one to the other, her spirit of enquiry on full alert.

It was left to Oleg to break the impasse. “If I can get into this place, anyone can.”

“Why?” said James. “I considered you highly suitable, with your existential angst. Of course, your family’s escape across the Russian border years ago impressed me.”

These words should have mellowed Oleg. Instead it was as if a knife with a serrated edge had slipped between him and the academic. Juliet looked at Oleg’s face. For one microsecond she could have sworn he hated James. Then the impression passed.

She shifted position so she could also observe Beth, who’d so far remained silent. She wanted to see if Beth was reacting to Oleg in any way. But no, her eyes were on Craig. She was in love with him, Juliet had no doubt about that. Poor girl. What prospects did she have, with Zoe so ahead of the game? Her sister was chatting animatedly to Craig. Sparkling and pretty, Zoe had everything going for her to win first place in Craig’s affections.

Suddenly Beth leaned back as Don became caught up in a conversation with Rory. She faced Juliet in a conspiratorial manner. Her eyes hardened, and she spoke in a low, tight voice. “When you interview us, Juliet, do hold off from asking us about our past won’t you?”

“Why?” asked Juliet.

“Because none of us here are supposed to remember it. Craig teaches us to cut ourselves off from that.”

“But your background’s one of the first things my listeners will want to know about.”

The colour of Beth’s face deepened. Juliet guessed that to be the effect of the wine. She decided to try the direct approach. “How do you feel about Craig, Beth?”

Cold hostility glimmered in the girl’s eye. “What’s that to you?”

“I’ve been invited here to ask questions,” said Juliet gently.

Beth drained her glass of wine and refused to look at her again. Instead she switched her glance to Oleg, who’d left his seat at the end of the table, and come up to speak to her. She gave him full attention for the first time during the meal. He leaned down towards her, and laid his hand on hers. She jumped as if someone had laid hot metal on her bare flesh.

He spoke in a low, urgent voice. “Why so nervous when I touch you, Beth? Relax.”

Instead of having the desired effect, this seemed to destabilise her further. She pushed her chair back and sprang to her feet. “Goodbye, everyone.” With that, she headed round behind Juliet’s chair, whirled past
The
Lady and the Unicorn
, and vanished through the doorway into the sitting room.

Everyone turned to stare.

“What did she mean by that?” asked Juliet. “She’s not leaving for good is she?”

“Of course not.” Craig jumped up. “I’ll go and talk to her.” But before he followed, he met Juliet’s gaze. His expression was perfectly calm. “Remember,” he said. “We’re not responsible for how others choose to react to us.”

His words hung in the silence. He walked out of the room. Everyone left at the table exchanged uncertain glances.

5

Jealous Designs

“Does James like dressing up as a woman? What an extraordinary question,” said Edgar, shooting a piercing glance at Juliet.

“I don’t think so at all,” she rejoined, “from what I’ve learned of him so far.”

They both sat in the oak-panelled library early the next morning. Rays of sunlight slanted through the diamond-paned windows. Juliet’s recording machine was between her and Edgar, and the microphone close to his mouth.

“What about people of other nationalities?” she asked.

“Not since I’ve been here,” said Edgar, still staring at her.

“Does Craig support him in his cross-dressing?” she asked. “Or even join him in it?”

“Why d’you want to know this?” he demanded.

“Just thought you might know something of Craig’s background, that’s all,” said Juliet.

A conspiratorial gleam entered his eye. “Digging, aren’t you? For stuff he won’t give you himself?”

“Could be,” she said. “It’s worth a try.”

“I can certainly tell you a thing or two,” he hinted. “But only if you complete my questionnaire.” At this, he jumped up, knocking the microphone out of her hand, and lunged at a well-stuffed concertina folder that had until now stood unnoticed by the occasional table.

“Go easy, Edgar,” she said, getting up too, and bending down to pick up her mike.

Suddenly she found the researcher looming over her, and coming uncomfortably close.