The Moon Spun Round (16 page)

‘It’s OK, there’s nothing mystic in there. That’s just everyday coffee. But it’s not too bad, is it? Would you like another?’

‘Abbie, what is it about you women? Why are you here? Why am
I
here?’

Abbie puts down her cup and looks directly at Sally. For a moment she’s silent, then she takes a deep breath.

‘I can’t tell you because I honestly don’t know. But you’re right. There’s something about the women of Hallowfield. Some of us, at least. It’s as if there’s a purpose to us being here. Oh, I know I was born here, but I’ve never wanted to leave. In fact the very thought of leaving sends me into a panic. There are particular women, newcomers, who say they’re drawn to the place. And I know this sounds crazy, but I seem to recognize them as they come to the village. It’s as if I’ve known them before.’

‘What, in a past life or something? Oh, come on now, surely you don’t believe in that sort of thing? Or do you?’

‘I don’t know what I believe. Maybe it’s that we have certain ideas and beliefs in common, so we naturally seek each other out. Could be as simple as that.’

‘Let me guess who this group might be. There’s Ruth of course, the clairvoyant. I bet she reads palms as well, does she?’

‘Yes, she does. I remember her and Jack arriving when I was, oh, must have been about eleven or twelve. She used to work at the local dairy—that was before they bought the shop. I remember her children being very young then.
In fact the youngest was born here. I used to babysit for her when I was older. I loved spending time with her and her family.’

‘Who else is there?’

‘Well, there’s Fran. Edward, her husband, was the new vicar. Still is. They came up from London. Apparently he’d been running some sort of refuge in the East End. Eventually the stress got to him and he was advised by the church superiors to take up the position in Hallowfield. She’s a bit forthright, as you may have gathered, not quite what the parish was expecting, but they got used to her after a while. Fran gets involved in everything, would have made a wonderful social worker. I think he just wants a quiet life.’

‘And there’s Naomi, of course.’

‘Yes, Naomi. She turned up about ten years ago, bought that house and set up her workshop. She made no effort to hide her beliefs. That raised a few eyebrows, I can tell you.’

‘I imagine the Women’s Institute were up in arms.’

‘You’re not kidding. To say nothing of our Reverend Edward Cunningham. He really got on his high horse, persuaded some of the church people to get up a petition. Then out of the blue, the vicar’s wife flew to her defence. Fran’s quite a force to be reckoned with.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘She reminded them about the history of Hallowfield, the witch hunts and the atrocities the community committed in the name of religion. Naomi just let it all wash over her. Anyway, she’s such a dear, no one could dislike her for long. Strange sort of friendship, but Fran and Naomi have became very close, almost like mother and daughter. The last thing anyone expected.’

‘I see. And I haven’t met Claire yet, but I think we can count her in. What’s her specialty?’

‘Yes, she does have a special gift. A form of psychic ability, like Ruth in a way, but…Well, you’ll find out when you meet her.’

‘But she does use the spring water?’

Abbie nods.

‘So that’s Ruth, who makes magic tea, and Claire—both psychics. Naomi who uses it to do magic spells and stuff like that. There’s you, using the water for your healing potions. What about Fran? I know she’s into astrology, but what the hell does she use the water for?’

‘The font.’

‘The what?’

‘It goes into the church font. For the past fifteen years, every girl child in Hallowfield has been christened or baptized with the spring water.’

‘But why?’

‘She says it’s her stand against patriarchal domination in religion.’ Abbie struggles to control the smile that grows around her eyes. ‘Fran says we ought to even up the score. She says the established Church is welcome to all the boy babies, but,’ the smile escapes into a laugh, ‘she insists that, by substituting water that comes from the holy well, all girls anointed with it are initiated as daughters of the Goddess.’

Sally gasps, then catches Abbie’s laughter. It’s a while before they both wipe their eyes and settle back to their coffee. When they do, they are both silent. It’s Sally who speaks first.

‘So that’s you Abbie, Ruth, Claire, Fran and Naomi. Anyone else?’

‘Yes. There’s you.’

‘Me? Where do I fit in? Or do I?’

‘Of course you do. You’re the Guardian of the Spring.’

‘Oh.’

While Sally is still stunned into silence, the street door opens again and Fran sweeps through in a flurry of greetings. She drags a spare chair up to their table.

‘Sally, just the girl I was looking for.’ She sits down and untangles herself from a huge hand-knitted poncho. ‘Mind if I join you?’

‘Course not. Coffee?’ Abbie calls the waitress over and orders another round.

‘You were looking for me?’ asks Sally.

‘It’s the season of goodwill, so you won’t mind volunteering, will you? There’s a brave girl. Knew I could rely on you. Got a large car, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, but hang on a minute. What have I volunteered for?’

‘Help the aged. Food parcels. Got them all made up, but we need about ten drivers to deliver them.’

‘Good God, how many parcels are there?’

‘Not that many. Brainwave idea. Each driver only delivers four. Gives plenty of time to stop and chat to the old dears. That way you get to know each other so they won’t mind you chauffeuring them to the Cambridge panto. They’re doing
Aladdin
this year. Managed to talk the theatre into giving us forty tickets at half price. Local businesses paid for the other half. Course the oldies won’t all want to go, but we can always find someone else for you to take.’

‘So I’m actually volunteering to take a group of elderly people into the city for a theatre trip?’

‘That, too? Great! I’ll put your name down. Sally Crawford, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. No. I mean, let me get my head around this. Has she got you down for
this, too?’ Abbie admits her involvement with a shrug of defeat. ‘Oh, all right then, yes to the parcels and theatre. Only put me down as Sally Lavender.’

‘Sally Lavender? What a fantastic name.’

‘Not at school. I used to hate it then, but I think I might have grown into it now.’

Coffee arrives and they’re joined by Ruth.

‘Good morning, ladies.’ Greetings and hugs all round, then Ruth also brings up a chair. ‘Is my granddaughter looking after you?’

‘Is that the girl who served us?’ asks Sally.

‘One of them. I’ve got several. Not all mine, though. My daughter keeps changing husbands and they bring kids from their previous marriages to add to the collection.’

‘Now, you’re just the person I wanted to see.’ Fran homes in on Ruth. ‘Can I put you down for—’

‘No, you can’t. I’m far too busy this time of year. Besides, you’ve already conned me out of half my stock for those blessed hampers. I bet she’s got you signed up for the theatre trip.’ Ruth turns to Sally. ‘You have to be firm with her, you know, or she’ll run you ragged.’

‘Too late, I’m afraid. I’ve been conscripted.’

‘We all learn by our mistakes.’ Ruth looks hard at Sally. ‘You look tired. Anyone would think you’ve been out dancing all night.’

‘What?’ Sally gasps. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘All right, my love,’ Fran lays a hand on her arm, ‘only her idea of a joke. Hey, what’s wrong, Sally? You’re shaking.’

Sally looks at the three women. This is hardly the place to talk about such things, but then no one is paying them any attention. Besides, she has to tell someone and she’s not sure she has any other friends now. And these three women mightn’t think she’s mad—well, no more insane than they are.

‘Ruth’s absolutely right. I am tired. I
have
been up half the night. I was dancing in the woods.’

So it all comes out: being woken up last month by the moon, then seeing Naomi in her garden with Cat, this month’s early morning venture into the garden, and the dancing in the moonlight. The other three women listen intently, exchanging those knowing looks. Fran puts an arm around Sally’s shoulder as she talks, and then there’s a long silence.

It’s Ruth who eventually speaks. ‘When you first came here, we knew you were right for the cottage.’

‘It’s as I was trying to explain,’ says Abbie. ‘Something seems to be drawing us here.’

‘But what? Why?’

‘God knows,’ says Fran, ‘or at least the Goddess does.’

‘But what does it mean, all this dancing and the things in the pool?’

‘It’s an old custom, leaving a gift for the Goddess,’ says Abbie. ‘We’ve probably all done it at some time—a sort of payment for the water. And I notice you always wear the moonstone now.’

‘Yes, and I keep that opal with me, the one you gave me, Abbie. Look here, it’s in my pocket. But I’m not sure it’s helping me to remember anything.’

‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that,’ says Fran. ‘Seems you know a lot more than you thought you did.’

‘But the dancing,’ says Ruth, ‘that’s more like ritual work. Moon magic. Bit out of our league.’

‘Naomi, that’s who she should talk to.’ Fran looks to the others for support. ‘More in her line of work.’

‘But I’m not a witch.’

‘As far as we know at the moment.’ Fran blunders on, heedless of the look of alarm on Sally’s face. ‘But I shouldn’t rule anything out at this stage.’

‘I think she’s right.’ Abbie’s voice is more gentle and reassuring. ‘Naomi is more likely to be able to explain what’s happening to you. You can trust her. And, don’t worry, she won’t get you into anything you don’t want. However, it’s obvious you’re already involved in some way and you need help to sort it out. What do you think, Ruth?’

‘Yes, Naomi’s best. You’ve met her a few times already, so it won’t be like talking to a stranger. Would it help if I were to talk to her first, sort of pave the way?’

‘Would you? I think I’d find that easier. And you don’t think I’m losing my marbles?’

‘No more than the rest of us. Anyway,’ Fran stands up and retrieves her poncho, ‘I’m going to have to move. Drum up some more transport.’

‘Yes,’ says Ruth, ‘and I’d better get back behind the counter. But I’ll make sure I contact Naomi today.’

Abbie asks Sally if she would like another coffee.

‘No, thanks. I think I’ve had enough stimulation for one morning. I might go home and get my head down for a couple of hours.’

‘Good idea. In fact I think we should both make ourselves scarce before Fran comes back and bullies us into doing something else.’