Mystical Circles

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Mystical Circles Page 21

by S. C. Skillman


  “Ring up and cancel those appointments,” he suggested. “Then stay on. Give yourself a holiday. Just stepping out of your official role might change your view of us – and me.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said.

  “Oh I do,” he responded brightly. “I’d love to see you break out.”

  “Break out from what?”

  “From this stance of yours.” He paused. “If you’re here to please yourself, not whoever you hope to sell your documentary to, you’ll be free. You won’t need to hold back any more. You can join in fully.”

  She bit her lip. That was the last thing she wanted. It was not that she feared falling into Llewellyn’s arms. No. It was because Craig hadn’t opened up to her yet. And she hadn’t yet asked him her most important questions. And many of those she had asked still remained unanswered. And she also needed to convince herself Zoe and Rory had both been deluded in their ideas about Craig’s feelings for her.

  Llewellyn held her in an intense scrutiny. “You do want to stay, don’t you?” he said. “But you won’t share your true reason with me.” He rose to his feet. A knock came at the door. For a few seconds he refused to release her from his gaze. Would he ignore the interruption? But the knock was repeated.

  “Juliet, Llewellyn. Are you in there?”

  Don, Juliet thought.

  “I want a word with you, Llewellyn,” called the Yorkshireman. “And so does Craig.”

  The poet’s eyes were still on her face. “I thought so, Juliet,” he said quietly. And before going to open the door, he gripped both her wrists tightly. “Don’t do it. It’s all wrong. It won’t work.”

  “Don’t do what? What do you mean?” she asked, nervous and unsettled, shaking herself free of his hold on her.

  At this, the door opened. Don’s glance travelled from Llewellyn to Juliet and back again. Beside him stood Craig.

  “I mean, it, Juliet. It would be disastrous,” said the Welshman softly.

  “Llewellyn,” Juliet began, “you’ve got entirely the wrong…”

  Craig took Juliet’s arm and pulled her out of the room. Don gave Llewellyn a scorching look, and slammed the door in his face.

  15

  Pushing Back the Tide

  From his position in front of the sitting room window, Llewellyn studiously ignored Don. Juliet could hardly fail to notice this as she entered the room. The Yorkshireman, for his part, having claimed an armchair in the corner by the gold grandfather clock, accepted a cup of coffee from Patrick with a grim look. She longed to step between them and break the impasse, but that wasn’t possible as Theo had now rejoined the group and was on one of the flame-red sofas, commanding the attention of the whole room.

  Seated beside Theo, Zoe clearly had no need of words to let everyone know of her joy at his return. Everyone could see that all she wanted was to be close to him again. Juliet disguised her sense of unease by drinking her coffee too fast and nearly scalding her lips.

  “Sorry to arrive this late,” said Theo. “So glad you saved me some dinner. I’d have hated to miss out on Rory’s peach melba.”

  Rory, who’d been hovering near the door into the hallway, with an ambivalent expression on his face, and his fair hair recently blow-dried, turned pink, and gave a flurry of pleasure. What a change from yesterday. Juliet could hardly make it out. Then, he’d been seething with resentment against the young clergyman.

  James, meanwhile, was stylishly arranged in an armchair opposite Theo. He adjusted one of his cufflinks and spoke. “We’ve been longing to know what happened at your meeting with the bishop, Theo,” he said.

  “Yes, what’s the deal, Theo?” asked Al, who’d squeezed into the smaller sofa with Laura, his robust form straining against a cowboy checked shirt, again with most of its buttons undone.

  Despite what Juliet imagined to have been an ordeal, on the outcome of which hung his future career, Theo’s manner was easy-going. Smiling, he stirred sugar into his coffee. “When I arrived,” he said, “the bishop had a car waiting. He told me we were expected at Lambeth Palace in twenty minutes.”

  Juliet surveyed Laura, knowing her mercurial views on Theo. But Laura’s face, at this point, gave nothing away, ensuring her feelings remained a mystery to Juliet.

  “What did the Archbishop say when you got there, Theo?” Laura asked.

  Theo continued in a soft tone of voice. “He told me he liked my book. Kind enough to mention he enjoyed the way I weave unorthodox strands into my thinking.”

  The group of listeners visibly relaxed. Smiles of relief broke out on most faces, and laughter rippled through the room.

  “And that means…?” prompted Rory.

  “That I’m subversive. Open-ended in style. That was how he put it.”

  “How exciting! What happened next?” asked Laura.

  “He asked me to sign his copy.”

  A cheer arose. Theo quietened them all with a raised hand. “Nevertheless, my bishop still thinks I want watching.”

  “But why, Theo?” asked Zoe. “What was it in your book that so upset him?”

  Theo gave a wry smile. “He misunderstood me. And still does. Claims I deny God. Thinks I challenge His sovereignty. But I don’t. I probe behind laws of nature, and ask why things should be. I believe God’s big enough to cope with my questions. The bishop doesn’t.”

  Zoe fell silent, apparently awestruck.

  “Was that why you were away two days?” asked Juliet. “You and the bishop must have had a long discussion.”

  “You could put it like that, Juliet,” said Theo. “The bishop suggested I attend a theological refresher course. He recommended one in Nottingham, which starts in three months’ time.”

  “Will you go on it?” Zoe turned anxious eyes upon him.

  “Not sure yet,” said Theo. “For the present, therefore, I’m in No Man’s Land.”

  “Good description of this set-up,” muttered Don, though everyone but Juliet ignored him.

  Zoe, meanwhile, laid her hand on Theo’s, winning a warm glance from him. “I’m so glad you’re back, Theo.”

  Craig, who until now had been standing on the silk rug, watching and listening, stepped forward. “So you’ll stay for the rest of the summer?”

  “Possibly not,” said Theo. “The Golden Chalice – who don’t share the bishop’s view of this either – rang a short while ago and invited me to lead a healing retreat in two weeks’ time. An invitation I may accept.”

  Craig looked disappointed. “Unless we can tempt you to stay with us instead.”

  “Let’s chat about it later,” said Theo.

  Juliet noticed that Patrick in particular withheld his congratulations. Knowing, as she did, his views on the contents of Theo’s book, she was hardly surprised. Meanwhile, her eye kept being drawn back to Zoe and Theo. It was clear Theo returned Zoe’s feelings totally. Every touch, every glance was reciprocated. Juliet’s own emotions were a capricious mix she couldn’t keep up with, flitting between wistfulness, panic and fear. How could she feel all this in the space of a few moments? she asked herself. And what exactly was she afraid of, anyway? She was unable to say.

  She was almost grateful to be distracted by Craig, who had crossed the room to join her in the corner by the empty birdcage.

  “This is good news for Theo,” he remarked quietly.

  “Of course.” She struggled to regain her self-composure. It was important that she did – for she had other things on her mind beside Zoe, and questions for Craig to answer.

  “And what of you, Juliet?” Craig asked. “May I persuade you to stay too?”

  But she was determined not to be sidetracked. “Before we speak of that, Craig, can you clear up my confusion? Yesterday afternoon, I met Rory on a walk. He mentioned knowing the truth about you.”

  Craig laughed softly. “And did he then go on to reveal what that was?”

  “No,” Juliet admitted. “He threatened to beat Don up, so we got away from him quickly.”

&nbs
p; Craig shook his head. “I’ll need another chat with Rory.”

  “What’s the matter with him, Craig?” asked Juliet. “Why does he behave like this?”

  Craig wore a strained expression she’d not seen on his face before. His disquiet seemed genuine. “Juliet, I know you’re mystified. Let’s say he has difficulties: serious ones. I am trying to help him. But he’s not always responsible for his actions.”

  She swallowed, several times. “But, Craig…”

  “Soon, I’ll explain. But not now. Just remember. You don’t want to take anything Rory says too seriously.”

  “Including claims to know the truth about you? Don said he had suspicions, but wouldn’t name them. Rory said he’d name them, but Don forbade him.”

  Craig looked at her appraisingly. “Rory knows nothing. But certainly I can tell you, if you’re interested, that he has a crush on me.”

  She nodded. “I thought that was part of it.”

  “And did you suspect anything else, Juliet?”

  As Craig said this, she noticed Llewellyn, keeping them both in his line of vision. She wished the Welshman would stop playing this game, especially as she felt powerless to take action.

  She turned back to Craig. “Do you encourage Rory at all?” she asked.

  “Of course not,” he replied in a sleek tone of voice.

  She didn’t know whether to believe him or not. Llewellyn still watched them. So did Don, from the other side of the room.

  “When I came across to speak to you, Juliet, I didn’t plan to discuss Rory,” said Craig.

  “No I don’t suppose you did.”

  “I was concerned,” he said, “about our last little chat together just before dinner on Wednesday, in the library.”

  She called that conversation to mind. “Yes. You said you were desperate. Did you mean, desperate to make the Wheel of Love work?”

  There was a pause. “Let me explain something to you, Juliet,” began Craig. “After we parted I was afraid I may have left you with a misleading impression.”

  “Which was…?” she prompted him.

  “That I don’t fully realise the material advantages to me of yielding to my father’s pressure.”

  “Don’s bribe, you mean? To set you up in another property, fully owned and managed by his company?”

  “Yes,” he replied, watching her closely.

  “I do believe that you fully understand the value of what you’re turning down,” she replied. “And I must say that my sympathies swing from you to your father and back again in a most unnerving way. But the fact is, I am trying to see the deadlock between you from both sides.”

  “You have to support one or other of us,” Craig said.

  “Oh?” She felt seriously alarmed by this.

  “It’s very important,” Craig went on. “Something lies beyond all this. Something much more important – to me anyway,” he added in a low voice.

  She looked at him intently. Was this her opportunity? She took it. “Craig,” she ventured, “do you have any strong regrets about the past? Is there anybody in your life who once desperately needed your forgiveness?” Their eyes held for what seemed like several moments. She thought he was going to open up, confide in her, tell her everything…

  And then it was as if he slammed that door in her face. “I’m not interested in discussing the past,” he said. Immediately he went on. “Now, Juliet, I want an answer from you. What do you say to my earlier question, about whether I may persuade you to stay? What are your plans for the future?”

  “The f-future?” she stammered. Strangely, this last question disorientated her. She began again. “My plans? You already know those, Craig. And they haven’t changed. I intend to return to London on Sunday, plus enough interviews for a documentary. And I very much hope to take Zoe with me.”

  Craig’s face darkened. “No chance of...” he began. At that moment, Patrick approached them with the cafetiere. “More coffee, Juliet? Craig?”

  Juliet was glad of the interruption. She suspected she knew well what Craig had been about to say. He wanted to keep Zoe here, and draw her into the Wheel of Love at the same time, didn’t he? And she was having none of it.

  Stepping out of the front door the next morning in her waterproof, Juliet confirmed that midsummer had apparently retreated. A dreary pall covered the sky, and now a drizzling rain had added itself to the close atmosphere she’d noted last night, especially when Craig had tried to get her to commit to joining his group. She was really worried about him – and about herself.

  And it was now Saturday. She must make a decision in the next couple of hours. A number of people expected her back in London next week.

  Pulling her hood up, she crossed the forecourt, heading in a northerly direction. A damp organic odour hung in the air, of rotting woodchip or decomposing leaf litter. It seemed to harmonise with how she felt: despondent. What should she do about Zoe? And Craig? She unlatched the gate and saw Theo approaching from the opposite end of the orchard. She greeted him, but his sole reply was a warning glance, not directly at her but a little to her right, over her shoulder.

  “What’s up?” She was keen to make the most of this meeting; she wanted a word with him in private, out of Zoe’s earshot.

  Looking behind her, she realised Craig, in a waxed jacket which looked suitable for a deer shoot on a country house party weekend, was gaining on them.

  “Ah! Glad to see you two,” Craig said. “And Theo – I very much hope you’ll stay with us until September.” There was an urgency in his tone that hadn’t been there when he’d broached this subject before, and Theo picked it up.

  “Any special reason, Craig?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said Craig, “I need your moral backing. Some here no longer give me the support I’ve had in the past, and expected.”

  “And the suspects?” enquired Theo lightly. He pulled a wet apple from the well-laden branch of the nearest tree, showering himself in the process. Weighing it carefully in his hand, he came and stood before Craig. “OK, Craig, how can I be sure I’m thinking the same as you?”

  “Try me,” said Craig.

  “Rory? Don?” queried Theo.

  “They’re two,” returned Craig. He looked at Juliet. “Basically,” he continued, “what my father longs to do is seize me, bind me hand and foot, and transport me back to Barnsley in his Black Mariah.”

  Theo broke into laughter. Juliet couldn’t resist joining him; she found the image so comical.

  Then Theo became serious again. He passed the apple to and fro, rolling it from one hand to the other, before another unexpected change of subject. “About four and a half years ago, alongside my work as a freelance broadcaster, I led a small charismatic group. Doesn’t exist any more, unfortunately. But, during its short lifespan, several members developed the gift of prophecy. Words of knowledge, that sort of thing. And some would get a picture.”

  “An image that appears before the mind’s eye?” asked Juliet.

  “Exactly. And one has just appeared before mine.”

  “… which you’re about to describe to us,” remarked Craig.

  “Yes.” Theo polished the apple. “I have a picture of you, Craig, trying to push back the tide.”

  Craig’s brow became shadowed. “You’re likening me to the boy who put his finger in the hole of the dam, to stop the Netherlands from being flooded.”

  “Absolutely,” Theo said. “But, remember, it’s temporary. You’ll need reinforcements and a long-term solution, or the water will overwhelm you.”

  Craig’s expression became unreadable. But, to Juliet, Theo’s picture made sense. Certainly, she’d noticed a slackening off among Craig’s disciples in terms of behaviour, self-discipline, loyalty… If this was allowed to gather pace, Craig’s influence could weaken and give way just as Theo had envisaged.

  Theo was speaking again. “How long do you think you can hold out for?”

  Juliet waited anxiously for Craig’s response. It sta
rtled her.

  “As long as you did, Theo, during your wilderness experience.”

  Theo became very still, hand out, palm upward, apple balanced there. The rain had stopped, and the breeze died down, as he looked searchingly at Craig. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t take you that long, Craig, to come through, and out the other side. And meanwhile, let’s concentrate on you rather than me. Remember, you cannot hope to address the problems of your followers until you find the courage to come clean with your father.”

  And with that, he was gone.

  Juliet met up with Theo again later that evening in the dining room, in front of The Lady and the Unicorn. They were the first two to enter before dinner.

  “Well done,” she remarked, “for what you said to Craig earlier.”

  “Thanks,” Theo responded. “My words may be totally ignored, of course.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Surely not! He respects you.”

  Theo didn’t reply.

  “We’re both very early tonight, aren’t we?” she said, to break the silence.

  “We are,” he replied. “Let’s take one day at a time, shall we? And gaze at this bewitched unicorn.”

  “You feel sorry for him?” she said, intrigued.

  “Perhaps. For now he cannot resist the lady.” He smiled.

  She immediately related this remark to him and Zoe. She didn’t feel like discussing his romance with her sister. Instead, she hastily cast about for a different subject. “I don’t suppose it was this room where your colleague had dinner with the shepherd and his wife?” she asked suddenly.

  “It was,” Theo said.

  “I imagine it was different then.”

  He nodded. “Very rough and ready, none of these rich furnishings.”

  “I expect they were sad to have to sell up,” she observed.

  “So I understand.”

  “Why did you ask Craig about a sculpture courtyard?”

  “Oh, I remembered one of the ideas my colleague came up with, after his visit.”

 

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