Mystical Circles (37 page)

Juliet stared at him. What an extraordinary statement!

And Theo clearly agreed. “How can you say that, Craig?” he demanded. “When Don spoke to me about it, he even mentioned bankruptcy.”

“Out of the question,” broke in Craig. “I still believe that through a realistic approach, I can stave off total disaster.”

Theo’s retort was swift. “What does
realistic
mean, exactly?”

Craig gripped the edge of the table with both hands. “New recruits, Theo, that’s what it means.”

Juliet made a great effort to put aside her worries about Don, for the time being. “That sounds great,” she said. “But will you win them and keep them with techniques like Dynamic Meditation and Dream Yoga?”

“Why not?” Craig fixed her with a steely gaze. “Are you about to make a value judgement, Juliet?”

“Don’t go on the defensive,” she said. “Just listen to me.”

Craig wore a startled expression. Theo folded his hands in his lap, and listened attentively.

“In Dynamic Meditation,” began Juliet, “you do your best to hurt people. Oh, I know a few of the group members said they felt
released
afterwards. But you can’t ignore those who may be damaged in the long term. What do you say to that? Do you still believe it’s the way to earn people’s trust?”

Craig smiled enigmatically. “My primary object is not
earning people’s trust
.”

“All right then,” she continued. “I’ll tell you who I do trust, and that’s Don.”

Craig’s expression became impenetrable, as if he was hiding any emotional response. Theo was chewing his lip.

“My father? Why? Even
I
don’t trust him,” said Craig.

“I’m well aware of it,” she replied, “and that’s your problem. Everything I’ve heard and seen here proves that he’s the only one with his feet rooted in the real world. I’d trust him with my life.” She stopped abruptly. She hadn’t said,
I love him
. But she feared they read it in her face.

Theo began to rub his chin in an agitated manner.

Then Craig reacted angrily, his face flushed. “My father’s a businessman, Juliet. And he’s twenty-five years older than you.”

“So what?” she said hotly.

Craig rushed on. “More importantly, my father’s central motive is profit. Spiritually he lives in No Man’s Land, he’s...” Craig stopped.

“… honest and trustworthy?” put in Juliet; “Deeply caring behind that brusque manner? Intelligent, singleminded? And with a capacity for love? Which you, perhaps, Craig, are unable to acknowledge?”

Theo sucked his breath in between his teeth. Craig leapt to his feet. His breathing came faster and faster. For several seconds he couldn’t speak. Then – “Love!” he cried. “What lies has my father been telling you? That’s despicable. After what he promised me before he went!”

Juliet did a double-take. “Why? What did Don promise you?”

But Craig had shot out of the room. She and Theo looked at each other in alarm. Then she ran after Craig, closely followed by the clergyman. Whatever had passed between Craig and his father before Don left, she desperately needed to know. Otherwise, where did that leave them all? “Craig, wait! We need to talk!”

He was halfway down the narrow staircase. “Too late,” he shouted. “I’ve had it up to here with that filthy old Judas. I’m off.”

“What do you mean? You’re leaving your own community? But what about the group? And where are you going?” cried Juliet. Why had Craig taken her final words so badly? And what had Don promised his son before he quit? And was she deceiving herself about Don anyway? Wasn’t it clear he simply wanted out? To cut his losses, and let Craig sink, and Juliet too?

Craig had now vanished through the small doorway beside the inglenook fireplace. Juliet burst into the dining room to witness a surreal sight; Rory quietly dusting the wrought-iron brackets with a feather duster, humming to himself. She braked for a second. Yes, she knew some community members had evening work duties, but trust Rory to do it this late; even if it did make sense to clean the dining room while the others were out of the way.

What lent the scene an extra air of unreality was the fact that behind him lay James, wrapped in his most disgusting rags. He smelt as if he’d not washed for several days. Stretched out over three dining chairs, apparently in a trance, he clutched an empty wine bottle.

Juliet stared at James, incredulous. As she did so he raised one hand and waved at her. Hadn’t he noticed Craig gallop through the room, pull the door open, and hurl himself through the doorway? She wanted to go after Craig. But she couldn’t tear her eyes from James. How did he do it? He was so convincing. She almost believed in the squalor where he lived: in a squat somewhere, with drug addicts and other alcoholics; beyond the reach of social services, and well below the poverty line.

With a concerted effort, she wrestled her focus back onto Craig. With no further hesitation, she pursued him. She’d no idea whether Theo was following. She grabbed a torch from the small table to the left of the front door, which had swung wide open. She hardly needed it on this summer night. Better take it anyway.

She fled out into the forecourt. “Craig, stop. You’ve been drinking. You can’t drive. Where will you go at this time of night?” Snapping the torch on automatically, she sped round the house to the parking area, gravel crunching beneath her feet. “At least tell me where you’re going,” she called, as she reached the north west corner of the house.

Then she saw headlights flash. Craig was pointing a remote key into the parking area. He leapt into his Saab and banged the door shut. The engine sprang into life, and he began to reverse. Where was he off to, for heaven’s sake? Barnsley? Or the Severn Bridge, with a view to jumping from the highest point?

As the rear lights picked her out, Juliet turned, dazzled. Someone else was close by. Raising her torch, she directed the beam into James’s face. He’d followed. She suppressed a shudder. Upright, he looked even more ghastly than he had in a horizontal position. “James, have you come to help?” she demanded. “Or to make things worse?”

How bloodshot his eyes were. Had he rubbed an irritant into them? No, must be contact lenses. For several moments, they both stood transfixed. His stench assaulted her nostrils. Was this the same man who wore bespoke tailoring and Armani aftershave? His tramp’s garb had been steeped in some noxious substance. The greasy matted hair dangled around his face.

She willed herself to hold the torch beam steady, picking out his purple features. His theatrical make-up skills were excellent. He still clutched an opened bottle, but it was different from the one she’d seen him with earlier. Turning the torchlight full on it, she saw it bore the label
Dom Perignon.
 There was only a small amount left at the bottom.

“James! Have you drunk that all by yourself?” she cried. She astonished herself. After all, at this stage – who cared?

He nodded slowly, a manic grin beginning to form itself on his face. “And very nice it was too,” he said. “I only wish you’d joined me earlier, Juliet, and I would have shared some of it with you.”

 “Oh, shut up, James,” she retorted. “Craig’s out of his mind and I need your help!”

She spun. Craig was now well into his three-point turn, bringing the Saab round to face the north east corner of the house. With Craig in a distraught frame of mind and not fully in control of his vehicle, Juliet dreaded to contemplate what he’d be capable of once he stepped full on the gas. He’d probably think nothing of mowing her and James down. At that moment, James found voice again.

This time, he hurled a string of expletives – language that, from her brief acquaintance with him, she’d never have believed him capable of. Whether his words were directed at her or Craig she couldn’t tell. Perhaps he meant to warn her. His final words convinced her he did. “Get out of his fucking way!” James bawled.

Juliet dived to safety just in time. “James!” she screamed. But he made no reply. Instead, he twirled, and flung the bottle into the woods. It was the swiftest overarm serve she’d ever seen. Then he vanished.

Her thoughts raced. Time was running out. Craig was in reverse, and moving fast. A voice inside Juliet’s head said:
He’s too close to the barn
. The next thing she heard was a loud bang. Then a sickening crunch of metal being distorted, mangled and giving way. And a fountain of fragmenting glass.

Craig had slammed on the brakes too late.

21

Wheel of Love Retuned

“Drink?” said James. “I think we need one after what’s happened.”

“You’re joking, aren’t you?” said Juliet.

She, Theo and James stood together in the entrance hall, gazing at each other. The ambulance had just sped away up the drive, taking Craig to Cheltenham General Hospital. Juliet was still trembling in every limb. After the 999 call James, demonstrating his presence of mind even whilst festering in his rags, had made two further telephone calls, the first to Don to let him know what had happened, and the second to Craig’s motor insurance company. The car would be a write-off.

“I should have gone to the hospital with him,” said Juliet.

James looked at her severely. “Don’t be silly,” he said in clipped tones. “I’m in charge now, by the way.”

God! What would this mean for the community? A tramp running the place. And Craig with who-knew-what multiple injuries. Suppose he had brain damage? Suppose he became paraplegic? Suppose he…  None of it bore thinking about. She swallowed the emotions threatening to seethe to the surface, and felt sick to her stomach.

“You think you’re worthy to lead this group, James?” she said. “That would be...”

“Yes, Juliet?” retorted James. “Go on, say it. That would be... what? A farce? An outrage? Or...”

“Words almost fail me,” she said, “but in view of your regular appearances as a down-and-out, and your behaviour with the champagne...”

She stopped. He looked at her strangely. And as he did so, a memory nudged her. A conversation between James and Craig in his study. Something about missing bottles...

“James,” she said, “while I’ve been here, I admit I’ve eavesdropped on a few conversations. And one of those conversations was between you and Craig. It was about some champagne that had gone astray.”

Now he stared at her. So did Theo. In the next moment she intended to voice her suspicions. She wondered whether James would call her bluff. After all, it was only her word against his that the conversation had ever taken place.

“You promised to find
the secret indulger
,” said Juliet.

“I did indeed,” replied James. His expression gave nothing away.

“Come on. The truth, James,” she said.

“The truth? A rare commodity,” he sighed. “But on this occasion I will offer it to you, free, Juliet. You want to know who
the secret indulger
was?”

“Yes, I do,” she replied. She still half-expected him to deceive her.

“It was me,” James said.

“But why...? How...?” she began.

“We all have a black hole in our psyches,” he said. “Consider Professor Joad, eminent philosopher and debater who fell from grace when he was convicted of travelling on a Waterloo to Exeter train without a valid ticket, and was found to be a frequent fare-dodger...”

Juliet almost gagged in disbelief. “What the hell,” she asked, “has Professor Joad got to do with you nicking the champagne, and betraying Craig?”

“Moral bankruptcy,” said James sagely, as if it was a badge he wore with pride.

Juliet had had more than enough of his carefully scripted dramatic irony. “James, go and change,” she said wearily.

“Of course. Right away,” said James, going upstairs.

And not a moment too soon, she thought, as she turned to Theo.

“What do you make of that, Theo?” she asked.

“How much champagne was involved?” enquired Theo.

“A case of it, apparently,” she said. “A dozen bottles.”

The young clergyman shrugged. “Even in the few years of my ministry so far, Juliet,” he said, “I’ve seen and heard things I could never previously have believed.
All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God
. And I admit sometimes I fear the surprises that still lie ahead of me. Still,
sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof
.”

She considered this. “I think you’re right,” she said. “Is there anything further I can do now?”

“No, Juliet, not tonight. I suggest you go to bed,” said Theo. “ I’ll ring the hospital in an hour’s time and ask for news.”

She had no option but to obey. As she was about to head up the second flight, she heard Theo speaking to someone in the hallway. She stopped and listened.

“I notice you didn’t offer any help, Patrick.”

She heard the Irishman’s voice in reply. “Thought I’d best keep out of it.”

Theo sighed heavily.

“And,” continued  Patrick in philosophical mode, “What will be will be. Sometimes disaster strikes and there’s nothing we can do.”

Shut up, Patrick, she said to herself.

“Don should have dealt with all this much earlier,” the Irishman added darkly.

“Yes, yes,” said Theo somewhat testily.

“Will Craig live?” interrupted Patrick with unmistakeable relish in his voice.

A brittle two seconds passed. Then Theo said, “Of course he will.”

“Wouldn’t bank on it,” said the Irishman. “I warned him. I said you’d better make your choice now. Carry on as you are. Or see the light. And now look at him. Message for us all there. No, it’ll be years of purgatory for him all right.”

“Be quiet Patrick,” said Theo.

“Very well. Only trying to help.”

“Well don’t.”

“Good idea,” said Patrick. Juliet heard footsteps crossing the hallway, and the sitting room door open and shut. Meanwhile, another pair of feet ascended the stairs. Theo, presumably. She hurried up to the roof, along the passageway and into her room. She listened to him passing her door. Another door further along the passageway opened and closed. A few moments later, she stole out of her room again.