Mystical Circles
Page 22
Before Juliet could question him further, the door opened and her sister came in. Theo turned at once, stepping forward to take Zoe’s hand.
At dinner Juliet sensed a tightly coiled atmosphere, and not only that between Theo and Craig.
The Mediterranean pasta dish was delicious. Sam, who prepared it, turned out to have done an international cookery course with his brother a year ago. The wine flowed more freely than ever, as did the numerous dishes up and down the table, yet she couldn’t escape a sensation that something rapacious was prowling among them, ready to spring. And she had a nasty feeling this came from Rory. Not that she could see him, on the other side of Beth, and that was the way she liked it. Even so, she sensed hostile intent emanating from that direction. Her fingers tingled too, and her stomach felt uneasy. There was going to be a crisis tonight, she felt sure of it: here in the dining room.
She’d positioned her microphone in the centre of the table, discreetly hidden by a vase of roses. If the wolf amongst them pounced, she’d record the event. Just so long as nobody got seriously hurt. And she couldn’t be sure of that at all. Edgar, too, despite his Benedictine-like appearance, seemed to be stoking up for something: and that impression gained strength with every look she intercepted between him and Craig. Meanwhile, Beth, hair plaited tightly around her head, maintained an icy silence beside her; and immediately opposite, Oleg, gaunt and colourless, looked as if he’d developed a nervous tic to match Sam’s. And for some reason this evening he’d chosen to wear a hooded track jacket and navy baseball cap to the dinner table.
Things were only partially right at the other end of the table, where Zoe sat between Theo and Llewellyn. Juliet watched her sister with the clergyman. Their tender glances and warm chatter recalled his comment to Juliet earlier about the unicorn. And as for Llewellyn, he kept up a straight-faced conversation with Patrick. Since the meal began, he’d totally ignored Juliet.
She could feel a current of unexpressed desires beneath the surface froth of the conversation. Every so often, looking across the table, she met Don’s eyes, bemused and questioning. She was sure he too expected something to happen. She’d told him of the exchanges between Theo and Craig in the orchard that morning. Don’s only question was: “When will the dam burst? Will it be tonight?”
Craig, nevertheless, had begun in gracious mood, appearing undaunted by the less than perfect ambiance among the diners. “So glad you all came promptly this evening.”
As they filled their plates, James, in a midnight-blue brocade jacket, looking every inch a dapper thespian at a post-show reception, leaned across and poured her a glass of wine. The atmosphere lifted slightly. Suddenly, Edgar’s voice rose above the general chatter. “We marked Theo’s arrival with champagne, Craig. Why don’t we celebrate his return?”
Craig smiled and said, “What a good idea.”
James interjected before Craig could add anything else. “We’ve enough wine on the table to be going on with, don’t you think?”
Craig looked at him in surprise. “Yes, I suppose so, James.”
Juliet became alert. What was going on here? She glanced at Don. She noted the ironical gleam in his eye.
He looked at Juliet’s glass, saw it was still nearly full, and held out his own for James to recharge. “Thanks, James. Generous of you. Pity about the champagne. But we must make economies.”
“Naturally,” said James with barely moving lips.
Over to you, Don, thought Juliet.
But Don forbore to reply. Instead, Al broke in with what appeared to be a complete change of subject. “What say you cancel Dynamic Meditation tonight, Craig?”
Juliet leaned forward to look at him, further down her side of the table.
“Why?” Craig lifted his voice. “I expect everyone there tonight at nine: without exception.”
This won disconcerted stares from every diner whose face Juliet could see. They appeared stung by the uncharacteristic belligerence of his tone. Al shrugged. Then he returned his attention to Laura.
Everything about Laura tonight said waif, elfin, gamine – perhaps because she appeared even more petite in proportion to the amount of space her hair took up. This evening her hairstyle was full-bodied with lots of volume. Clearly the new look won Al’s admiration. He gazed at her ardently.
Craig pushed his chair back and stood up. Did he plan to make a speech? Maybe he’d found an excuse to bring out the champagne. “I’ll leave you now,” he said instead. “I have something important to attend to. I expect you all in the barn promptly at nine o’clock for Dynamic Meditation.” And, with that, he disappeared. His departure was followed by a rising murmur of bafflement.
What was that all about? Juliet wondered.
“It’s a disgrace,” muttered Patrick.
“What is?” asked Juliet.
“This group,” said the Irishman. “The Wheel of Blighted Love. Where’s the love? Distinctly lacking. Instead our spokes are getting choked up with satanic dross.” Patrick crossed himself. “I’ve long suspected his teachings had the devil in them.”
A chorus of objections arose from the others. Juliet watched Patrick. Was this what Craig had been referring to when he spoke to her and Theo earlier about needing Theo’s moral backing?
Laura raised her voice. “I disagree, Patrick. There’s nothing wrong with Craig. He’s turned my life around.”
“Good for you,” said Oleg. “I’m still stuck in a ditch somewhere along the slip road.” He banged his wine glass down. “I should be chucked onto a dung heap. Can anyone here give me a reason why not?”
“Yes,” thundered James unexpectedly. “What Craig teaches, works. That’s why not. Pull yourself together, man.” His face was highly flushed. Juliet wondered how much he’d drunk. Perhaps that was why he didn’t want the champagne brought out: he didn’t have confidence in his ability to do it justice. “Let’s put it to the vote,” James continued. “Who’ll be first to say openly, what they have, if anything, against Craig?”
Up and down the table, the group formed a freeze-frame, heads turned to James.
Juliet’s gaze swept around. She felt a strong sense of foreboding. Who’d be first to respond? James had inspired Craig to set this place up, after all.
James clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Come on. Your true thoughts. We can be honest here. Who’ll kick off? Edgar?”
Edgar sprang into life, moustache trembling. “Makes no odds to me what he teaches, so long as it’s completely far-fetched. All the better for my research project.”
A low, grumbling sound followed this comment.
“But,” went on Edgar, “I must say I don’t accept that if we’re in tune with ourselves we’ll always be in the right place at the right time. What about innocent victims?” He wiped his mouth with his napkin, and lifted his wine glass to his lips with an air of self-satisfaction.
“Good man.” Don popped the last piece of bread in his mouth. “Bugs me, too.”
Then Rory blurted, “But who’s innocent?”
A sharp silence cut in. Juliet felt her spine prickling.
Llewellyn spread his hands. “Fair point, Rory. Who is innocent?”
“Hear, hear,” cried Patrick. “Nobody. That’s the answer. I put it all down to original sin.”
Incredibly, Rory remained silent. Was he refusing to rise to Patrick’s bait? Or was he just biding his time?
Al laid his cutlery neatly on his plate. “Don’t you think you guys are being a little uptight about this? When I first came here, I thought this country was a peach. Gentleness, mild air, muted light. Back in the States, I visualised peaceful lakes, rolling hills and dreaming spires.” He now wore an expression of injured longing.
“You make it sound like heaven,” said Juliet. “But surely everywhere we live, it’s only the quality of our relationships that matters.”
“Well said, Juliet.” Theo had spoken from the opposite corner of the table. Zoe’s concentration remained solely on him.
“So we’re not allowed to say what we think?” Rory slammed his hand down on the table. Everyone jumped, and looked at him nervously. “I’ve been restraining myself ever since I arrived.” Rory’s voice quivered with barely-controlled loathing.
“News to me,” murmured James.
There was a barely audible intake of breath round the table at this. Very dodgy, thought Juliet. James was goading the wolf with a stick. Beth had slumped back in her chair, and Juliet could see Rory shaking. She felt a sense of dread.
Rory shot a toxic glance at James. “Not one of you here stands innocent of callous, cynical self-regard.”
There was a chorus of dismay and protest.
“How can you say that?”
“That’s not true.”
“I don’t recognise myself from that description. Although,” added James smugly, “I’d be the first to admit I’m no angel.”
Rory’s mocking laugh unnerved Juliet.
“I’m sure no one else would claim to be angelic, either,” smiled James.
“Demonic, more like.” Rory’s eyes glittered, and he rose unexpectedly from his chair. “Satan would love the way he’s managed to slither into the hearts of the members of this community.”
“I take exception to that,” shouted Patrick, also leaping to his feet, oblivious to the danger he was in. “I’m the only one here with the right spiritual safeguards to handle using that name at this table.”
Amidst the ensuing uproar, Juliet looked for someone to restore calm. In Craig’s absence, she held James responsible. He was second-in-command, wasn’t he? Or had she got that wrong? Theo, then? But she failed to make eye contact. Don, perhaps? If not him, then perhaps she should say something. “Come on, Rory,” she urged. “Sit down again. Please.”
Astonishingly, he did so.
“I don’t think anyone here is callous or cynical,” Juliet said gently. “I wouldn’t use such words for anyone I’ve spoken to.”
“What words would you use, then?” Rory demanded.
Juliet hesitated. Was it wise to express her true opinion, or not? Rory would probably see through her if she lied. “The words I’d prefer, Rory, are insecure, perhaps. Or vulnerable.” The group fell silent, but a menacing undercurrent prevailed. “I think you’ve all come here for protection,” Juliet continued. “Protection from the world. In this community, you exist in a glass bubble. It’s very structured, on the fringes of life, but it’s not reality.”
Rory leaned forward, and grasped the water jug. Her heart missed a beat. He was going to throw it at her. But he didn’t. Instead he refilled his glass, and put the jug back on the table.
“Not that I think there’s anything wrong with that,” she went on desperately, playing for time. “It’s just that at some stage you’ll all need to return to the outside world, to put what you’ve learned to the test.”
“The outside w-w-world?” repeated Sam blankly.
“Juliet’s point,” Zoe suggested, “is that this is a game we’re all playing.”
Juliet’s eyes widened. Had Zoe herself at last come to recognise the Wheel of Love for what it was – a make-believe world? But, with the use of the word game, she sensed an immediate rise in tension again.
“A game?” repeated Rory.
“I only meant to say…” Zoe raised her palms in a dismissive gesture.
“What about me?” Rory snapped. “Do you see me as a player on that board? Moving at the throw of a dice?”
“No, Rory…” Zoe didn’t get the chance to finish.
Rory shot up from his chair once more, and this time began to prowl past the terrified diners, heading first to Zoe and Theo’s end of the table. “You all know my background,” he said. “The past Craig teaches us to forget. I came this close...” he held up thumb and forefinger two centimetres apart, “to never being here at all. Upon first learning of my existence, my mother tried to abort me. As you can all see, she failed. Shortly after my birth, she abandoned me and my sister. Her parents took us on. They brought us up. If you can call it that.”
The other diners formed a silent tableau, listening fearfully to his potted life history.
Theo was first to respond. “Bitterness won’t help, Rory. Can’t you forgive your mother?”
“No. She’s dead.”
“You can still forgive her,” said Theo. “How about your sister? How does she feel?”
Rory spun back to face the clergyman. “My sister is in a Buddhist retreat house and has detached herself from suffering.”
“All right then, Rory,” persisted Theo, “so why do you feel like this?”
“Because my mother rejected me,” cried Rory.
“Perhaps not. Perhaps, rather, she was rejecting something in herself,” said Theo. “Forgive her now, my friend.”
“Then you’ll reach closure,” muttered Al, “and the rest of us will get some peace.”
“No!” Rory’s shout nearly flattened the startled American against the back of his chair. Juliet held her breath.
Al had twisted round, to keep the volatile Rory well in sight. As he did so, Rory stepped back, and cracked his head against a wrought-iron lantern hanging from the ceiling. Juliet flinched. That would do it. Now Rory’s rage would boil over.
Al spoke in sympathetic tones. “Gee, you all right?”
Rory rubbed his head, and his next words emerged in a wail. “I came here to set myself straight. Yet my life’s a cesspit.”
Juliet bit her lip. Rory was being a bit melodramatic, and more than a little self-indulgent. She also knew no one trusted him. She certainly didn’t. She still vividly remembered the feel of his hands around her neck, and his body pressing her into the floor… She watched closely. When and who would Rory attack?
Rory addressed everyone. “I came here,” he said, “because I believed it would be life-enhancing. Instead, I’m frustrated, powerless and stuck.”
“How can that be?” asked Laura. “I don’t see it in that way at all. I feel perfectly restored, as if I’ve looked down the years and seen myself.”
“We’re very happy for you, Laura,” Edgar said. Al put an arm around her shoulders. “For you, all is as it should be. But Rory, it seems, is about to give up on us.”
“A consummation devoutly to be wished,” muttered James.
Juliet watched Rory, still stationed behind Al, focusing on Laura’s face.
Theo hastily put in a suggestion. “We’re all unique. Each one of us reacts differently to the same situation.”
“But we’re not all in the same situation,” said Laura. “That depends upon our state of mind when we first come here, of course.”
“And what state of mind do you believe I was in when I arrived?” Rory shouted.
“I don’t know,” she twittered, seeming to perceive at last how perilous her situation was. She edged closer to Al on her right, as if he might afford her some protection. Then she persisted with the point she was making. “Speaking for myself, I’ve become a new woman since I joined this group.”
Before anybody could comment, Theo stood up, and moved round behind Edgar, to join Rory. “Listen, Rory; despite what anybody else may say, you can still come through this.”
“On whose terms?” asked Rory sharply.
“Nobody’s but your own,” said Theo.
Rory considered this. Theo held his gaze. No one else dared speak. But Juliet sensed the fight going out of Rory. Theo placed his hand on Rory’s arm. As he did so, Rory’s ferocity evaporated, and he visibly relaxed. Then Theo swept his free hand out, in a gesture that encompassed the whole group. “We cannot depend upon others for our happiness. That comes from self-worth, and it’s a journey we can only take alone.”
He moved away from Rory, and both men took their seats again in ab
solute silence. Juliet felt relief, but a sense of restlessness still hung in the air. And a question persisted in her mind: could Rory really come through this on his own terms? She strongly suspected what those terms were, in regard to Craig; and she didn’t believe they’d ever be met. Was this the reason why Rory claimed he’d achieved so little peace in the time he’d been here? Craig, who perhaps held the key to the mystery, had conveniently slipped away.
Nobody disputed Theo’s summing up. Juliet wondered if Don would comment, but it appeared that even he had nothing to add. A few seconds passed, and then Oleg rose from his seat and slunk round behind Don’s back and Craig’s empty place. He headed past The Lady and the Unicorn, navy cap pulled down over his eyes, hands thrust into the pockets of his combat pants. Clearly, he was aiming for the door, and had no intention of waiting for Sam’s dessert. Juliet doubted whether anybody else would have an appetite for it either, after tonight’s events. She looked around, baffled, for Theo; he, too, had disappeared from the scene. Zoe was gazing distractedly at the open door.
Then Llewellyn spoke in ringing tones, making them all jump. “Don’t forget Dynamic Meditation this evening, whatever you do. It’s vitally important that every one of you attends.”
“Why are you telling us this?” demanded James.
“Because, in view of what Rory has said at this table, I have a very important announcement to make.”
“Does Craig know about it?” James asked.
“No,” said Llewellyn. “And I forbid any of you to mention it, either. It must come as a complete shock to him.”
16
A Bear in the House
The hayloft with its timbered gallery had seemed at first to be a good vantage point for Juliet to stand and record the group members in Dynamic Meditation. She’d been even more pleased when Llewellyn positioned himself right next to her, full on mike, in order to make his pronouncement.
Down below, Craig strode across the width of the barn, from east staircase to west and back again, goading the group members into pushing themselves even harder. Some interpreted this as a signal to race across the meeting space, up the west staircase, along the gallery, and down the east, as if in training for a marathon.