‘There are no allergies,’ said Wace smoothly. ‘The rash was her flesh revolting at what her false self made her do.’
‘Will Dr Zhou be able to help her?’
‘Of course. He understands spirit work better than anyone now alive.’
‘Has he taken her to a hospital?’
‘He’s treating her now, and Taio’s about to remove her to a place of recuperation, so you needn’t distress yourself about Lin,’ said Wace. ‘I want to talk about you. I hear… conflicting reports.’
He smiled at her, chewing, then, widening his eyes, he swallowed and said,
‘But this is shocking of me… you’re missing dinner.’
He pressed a small bell sitting among the various dishes on the table. Moments later, bald Shawna appeared, beaming.
‘Shawna, another plate, glass, knife and fork for Rowena, please,’ said Wace.
‘Yes, Papa J,’ said Shawna importantly, bowing before leaving the room again.
‘Thank you,’ said Robin, trying to act the part of an innocent woman and church member, one who desperately wanted Jonathan Wace’s approval. ‘Sorry, but… what conflicting reports are there about me?’
‘Well,’ said Wace, ‘I’m told you’re a very hard worker. You never complain of tiredness. You show resourcefulness and courage – the labour was long, I hear, and you forwent sleep to help. You also found our Emily in Norwich when she was taken ill, didn’t you? And I believe you previously rushed to her defence when Jiang was giving her instructions. Then, tonight, you were the first to go to Lin’s aid. I think I’ll have to call you Artemis. You know who Artemis is?’
‘Um… the Greek goddess of hunting?’
‘Hunting,’ repeated Jonathan. ‘Interesting you speak of hunting, first.’
‘Only because I’ve seen statues of her with a bow and arrow,’ said Robin, who was pressing her hands between her knees to stop them shaking. ‘I don’t really know much else about her.’
The door opened and Shawna reappeared with everything Wace had asked for. She laid out a plate, knife, fork and glass in front of Robin, bowed again to Wace, beaming, and disappeared, closing the door behind her.
‘Eat,’ Wace ordered Robin, filling her water glass himself. ‘There are many contradictions in Artemis, as in so many human representations of the divine. She’s a huntress, but also protector of the hunted, of girls up to marriageable age, the goddess of childbirth and… strangely… of chastity.’
He glanced at her before turning his attention back to his food. Robin took a gulp of water, trying to ease the dryness of her mouth.
‘Personally,’ Wace continued, ‘I don’t disdain the teachings of those whom conventional religious people would see as pagans. I don’t believe the Christian conception of God is any more valid than the ancient Greeks’. All subjective attempts to draw a complete picture of the Blessed Divinity are necessarily partial and flawed.’
Except yours, thought Robin. She’d served herself ragout and polenta, and now took a mouthful. It was one of the best things she’d ever eaten, or perhaps it was simply that she’d been deprived of real food for so long.
‘And you’ve been generous to the church, Artemis,’ said Wace. ‘A thousand pounds! Thank you,’ he said, making his familiar expression of humility and gratitude, as he pressed one hand to his heart.
‘I should have made that sooner,’ said Robin.
‘Why d’you say that?’ Wace asked, eyebrows raised.
‘Because I know other people donated before me. I should have—’
‘There is no “should have”,’ said Wace. ‘All that counts is what is done. The journey to pure spirit is essentially a process of becoming ever more active. Prayer, meditation, study: these are actions. Regret is inactive and useful only in so far as it propels us onwards, to more action. So, all of this is very good, but,’ said Wace, his smile now fading, ‘your journal is… a little disappointing.’
Robin’s heart beat faster. When it came to her journal, she’d taken a line from what Niamh Doherty had told her: one thing enjoyed, one thing learned, every day.
‘No questions,’ said Wace. ‘No doubts. Certainly no indication of Rowena’s inner life.’
‘I was trying not to show egomotivity,’ said Robin.
Wace let out a bark of laughter that made her jump.
‘That’s exactly what I expected you to say, Artemis.’
Robin disliked the repetition of the new nickname. She knew it was meant both to flatter and destabilise her.
‘And I hear you’re the same way in doctrinal lectures. You never seek discussion or clarification. You’re studious, but silent. No curiosity.’
‘I thought—’
‘—that would show egomotivity? Not at all. It’s a maxim of mine that I’d rather face an honest sceptic than a hundred who believe they know God but are really in thrall to their own piety. But it interests me, this lack of curiosity and argument, because you’re not a submissive, are you? Not really. You’ve shown that repeatedly.’
As Robin struggled for an answer, she heard movement outside the room, a scuffling and then the sound of Lin’s voice.
‘I d-d-don’t want to g-g-go – no! N-n-n-no!’
‘Music,’ said Wace, setting down his knife and fork with a clatter, getting to his feet and moving calmly to a discreet panel on the wall. With the press of a button, classical music filled the room. Robin heard the front doors of the farmhouse slam. She had time to remember that Lin was almost certainly Wace’s own daughter before he moved back to the sofa and said, as though nothing had happened,
‘So I’m puzzled by you, Artemis. On the one hand, passivity, unquestioning obedience, an uncomplaining work ethic, a journal that asks no questions, a large donation to the church.
‘But on the other hand, a strong and dynamic individuality. Outside of doctrinal seminars, you challenge authority and resist deeper engagement with the church’s precepts. You demonstrate a strong materialist adherence to the importance of the body, over the requirements of the spirit. Why these contradictions, Artemis?’
Robin, who felt slightly stronger for the ingestion of food and water, said,
‘I’m trying to learn and change. I was argumentative before I joined the church. That’s why my fiancé broke up with me. I suppose… my false self is still there, still clinging on.’
‘A very nice, neat, pat answer,’ said Wace, smiling again.
‘I’m trying to be honest,’ said Robin. She wondered whether crying would help convince Wace of her sincerity. It wouldn’t take much for the tears to flow, after the shocks of the last hour.
‘I hear,’ said Wace, ‘the only time you seemed to show any interest in challenging church doctrine was with young Will, up at the vegetable patch.’
‘I wasn’t challenging him,’ said Robin, careful not to sound defensive. ‘I made a mistake and he corrected me. Several times, actually.’
‘Ah, well… Will’s better at memorising doctrine than living it,’ said Wace, smiling again. ‘He’s a clever young man, but hasn’t yet made pure spirit because he falters, constantly, at step six. You know what step six is?’
‘“The pure spirit knows acceptance is more important than understanding,”’ quoted Robin.
‘Very good,’ said Wace. ‘The materialist seeks understanding, where the pure spirit seeks truth. Where the materialist sees contradictions, the pure spirit grasps that disparate notions and ideas are all part of the whole, which only the Divinity can comprehend. Will cannot rid himself of adherence to a materialist conception of knowledge. He tries, he seems to succeed, but then he falls back again.’
Wace scanned Robin’s face, but she said nothing, certain that showing a particular interest in Will would be dangerous. When it became clear that she wasn’t going to speak, Wace went on,
‘And you challenged Jiang when he was instructing Emily, also on the vegetable patch.’
‘Yes,’ said Robin, ‘I reacted instinctively, I was—’
‘“Instinctively”,’ repeated Wace, ‘is an interesting choice of word, and a great favourite of materialists. Only when mankind has rid itself of the base emotions we call “instinct” are we likely to win our battle against evil. But your – to use your word – “instinct” seems to be particularly engaged by Disruptives, Artemis.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Robin.
‘Will. Emily. Even quiet little Lin has her Disruptive tendencies,’ said Wace.
‘I barely know any of them,’ said Robin.
Wace said nothing for a few moments. He cleaned his plate then dabbed at his mouth with a linen napkin before saying,
‘Your Revelation was difficult, I hear. Daiyu manifested.’
‘Yes,’ said Robin.
‘She does that,’ said Wace, ‘when she feels the church is under threat.’
He looked at Robin, no longer smiling, and she forced herself to look back at him, to school her features into a look of confusion rather than panic. His large, dark blue eyes were opaque.
‘You… can’t think I’m a threat to the church?’
The words came out as a whisper, which wasn’t feigned. Robin’s throat felt constricted.
‘Well, let’s see,’ said Wace, without smiling. ‘Stand up for me.’
Robin let her knife and fork fall to her plate and stood up.
‘Here,’ said Wace, moving away from the sofa to a patch of clear carpet in the middle of the room.
Now they faced each other. Robin didn’t know what was coming: sometimes Becca or Mazu led them in simple yoga movements as part of their meditations, and Wace stood as though about to give physical instructions.
After staring at her dispassionately for ten seconds, he reached out and placed his hands on her breasts, his eyes boring into hers. Robin stood stock still, feeling nothing but shock. She seemed to be watching from outside her own body, barely feeling Wace caressing her.
‘Spirit is all that matters,’ said Wace. ‘The body is immaterial. Do you agree?’
Robin said ‘yes’ automatically, or tried to do so, but no sound issued from her mouth.