The Snow Rose

by Lulu Taylor

  What did I just see?

  If it were characterised in a tabloid newspaper, they might say something like ‘Toffs go wild at swinging party . . . anything goes in high-class orgy . . .’ or similar lurid, attention-grabbing headlines.

  But it wasn’t like that. Or was it?

  ‘Rachel.’

  That voice in my ear. His voice. Archer. I turn and look at him. His face is so bright it’s almost shining and he’s illuminated behind by the light coming from the church. With his flowing hair, beard and robe, he looks biblical. I can’t help feeling awed by him and affected by his presence in a way I’ve not felt for a long time now.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  He’s always looking out for me. Checking I’m okay. ‘Yes.’ My voice is a bit shaky but not too bad. ‘I’m just a bit overwhelmed.’

  ‘I thought so.’ He nods. ‘I expected that.’

  ‘What did you do in there?’

  ‘Well, it’s what you might call the marriage ceremony. This place has a history of them, but in the old days, they were spiritual marriages, between a man and a woman. They denied the physical being because it was supposed to be part of the Devil’s realm. But that was how the last dispensation understood it, the message he received. I’ve received a different message, for different times, I guess. What’s possible now may not have been possible then.’

  ‘Dispensation?’

  ‘Yeah. There have been manifestations of the Divine throughout time, dispensations given to mankind to help them see the way.’ He smiles at me. ‘I’ll explain it properly sometime. But the main thing to understand is that we affirm our communality by a ceremony in which we are all married to one another – each one person marries all the others. And by this, we share our love completely equally. Do you understand?’

  ‘From what’s going on in there, I think I get the point.’ I’m trying to joke.

  ‘It’s the first ceremony for a while, they tend to get fired up. It’s beautiful, really. No one is hurt, no one is sad, everyone loves each other with no guilt or recrimination. It’s perfect when you think about it.’

  It seems so simple. Like everything Archer says, it seems to make perfect sense. And yet, I think, if it’s all so good and true, then why, when I left the church, did I see Kaia, the girl who sewed the altar cloth, standing at the back and crying like her heart would break?

  Archer takes my hand and lifts it to his mouth, then kisses it gently. ‘So, Rachel, don’t you think you should share in some of the love too? I promise you won’t regret it.’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ‘You are not to put your hands on me!’ declares Letty furiously as the Beloved approaches her.

  ‘I would not sully myself.’ He turns back to the door and shouts, ‘Come in! Come and take her.’

  The gardener and his lad come in, their expression half belligerent and half sheepish.

  ‘I’m sorry, miss. If you come quiet, we won’t have to force it,’ the gardener says.

  Arabella watches, still in her trance-like state, apparently entirely unaffected.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ Letty demands.

  ‘To the church,’ snaps the Beloved. ‘If your wicked soul can endure the torment of being in a holy place.’

  ‘Of course I can. Very well.’ Letty draws herself up tall. ‘But I shall walk there myself. I don’t want any hands laid upon me.’

  The Beloved gestures to the gardener and his boy to let her pass, and Letty walks past them with her head held high, hoping she is concealing her fear. If only I’d left just a little earlier. But there’s no help for it now. And they won’t hurt me. They can’t.

  The church is empty when she gets there, followed by the gardener and his boy at a short distance, and she paces about inside, wondering what she is supposed to do now. The place feels strangely torpid without anyone in it. It is just a room, she realises. Ornate and decorated and dedicated to lofty ideas, but empty, it has no vitality.

  It is not long before the members of the community begin to arrive. Letty sits down in the front row, but no one joins her. They sit a few rows behind or on the other side of the aisle, keeping a safe margin between them as though she were infectious. The Angels come, and the ladies, young and old, and the few men of the community. The Reverend Silas staggers in supported by his walking stick on one side and his wife on the other.

  When all are assembled in muttering quiet, no organ playing this time, the Beloved appears, with Arabella at his side. Silence falls as he marches majestically up to the front of the church and stands before them, just as he does for every service, but this time his mouth is set in a grim line and he exudes fury from every pore. Arabella takes her place in a seat at the front.

  Everyone waits expectantly as he glares around the congregation. They can all feel his fury. Letty, watching him from her seat alone at the front, finds that the more irate he appears, the more her fear of him subsides.

  He’s an actor. A pantomime villain. Captain Hook ranting and foaming but ultimately powerless. What can he do to me, after all? This is a farce.

  The thoughts calm her. She thinks of Arthur, laughing at all of it, pointing out the Beloved’s habit of puffing out his chest and stalking about like a clockwork soldier. It seemed so impressive once; now it looks ridiculous. Once her world revolved around this man, and now, suddenly, she longs to be free: out in the real world, doing real things, finding out about what matters. She realises that she hasn’t seen a newspaper or listened to the wireless since the Beloved arrived, so effectively has he created his own domain controlled entirely by him.

  She sees his immense vanity and understands that this little exhibition is in order for him to keep face in front of his flock. She wishes she could puncture it and show him for what he is.

  At last he stops striding about and glaring, and stands to face them. ‘My brothers and sisters, we have been afflicted by a great unhappiness. The evil one has been busy here! I knew we would draw his fire before too long, but I did not foresee how cruelly. To lose our beloved Sarah is almost too much to bear. But we will bear it, because I am among you.’

  He stretches out his hands in blessing, and speaks words of comfort in his deepest, most vibrating voice, and they sigh happily to hear it. They are besieged by the evil one, but they must have faith. Corporeal death means nothing to the spirit. The day is at hand when they will see Sarah in glory again, among the multitude of the faithful. Then he stretches an arm towards Arabella and looks about at his flock.

  ‘And it may well be that Sarah has not left us at all. For a new spirit joins as hers departs. In a miracle, this woman has conceived and she will bear a child.’

  There’s a murmur, perhaps not the amazement that the Beloved might have expected. Rumours of the pregnancy have been rife for weeks.

  Letty knows his tricks by now but she still is taken aback by his brazenness. Is he really implying that Arabella’s is a virgin conception? Surely even he wouldn’t be so outrageous! But he’s fudging it just a little, tying it into Sarah’s death. They needn’t be afraid for she’s not dead at all. It’s a form of reincarnation. I wonder how he’s going to work that into his religious theory! I suppose he simply borrows what he wants from other faiths.

  The Beloved cries, ‘Hallelujah! Let us give thanks that we have been granted a miracle!’ and Arabella smiles, a little wanly, and accepts the congratulations of the crowd. ‘It is,’ goes on the Beloved, ‘all the more miraculous when you consider that there are forces of darkness living and working among us.’

  The crowd shifts uneasily, and glances dart Letty’s way. She stiffens. There’s no doubt of who is he talking about.

  ‘But mark my words, the Day of Judgement will come when all shall be revealed, and the chaff will be taken out and tossed into the fire!’

  Letty senses the mood change and harden. The Beloved points at her, and cries, ‘Pray, brothers and sisters, for this poor lost soul! Once she was blessed, a true believer, one of the
chosen. But she has wilfully turned her back on salvation. She has embraced the Devil. She has fornicated with him.’

  There’s a shocked intake of breath from the congregation and a murmur of distaste.

  The Beloved searches the rows of faces until he sees the Kendalls, and his expression turns to one of abject misery. ‘My heart breaks for your pain, the parents of the traitor in our midst. The Judas. The one sent to test us and reveal the truth about what we believe in our hearts. You’ – he spreads his arms out over the whole gathering – ‘you have remained faithful. Your steadfastness will be remembered in paradise. You will have the best rooms in the great mansion of heaven. You will enjoy the pampered rest of the elect!’

  Promising rooms in heaven like it’s a holiday camp. He’ll be telling them there’ll be linen sheets and kippers for breakfast next. She can hear Arthur laughing out loud at it all.

  The Beloved has not finished with her. He turns back. ‘But evil will out, brothers and sisters. Not all can stay constant. Some fail the test! And this . . . this new Eve . . . could not resist the temptation to take the Devil into her heart.’

  An angry muttering starts behind her. The Beloved’s oratory is having its usual effect. He knows how to play upon their emotions and how to work them into a frenzy. Letty knows it only too well: how easy it is to give in and believe, because it is simpler than thinking too hard about what is being said. And the strength and conviction of that personality is almost too much to stand up to, so one surrenders and allows it to take control. There’s something so reassuring about someone else’s absolute certainty that they are right. It’s the easiest thing in the world to agree, and the hardest to be the one who stands up and says no.

  I know what a scapegoat feels like now. And it’s utterly horrible.

  Behind her, she can hear the growing murmur of displeasure and resentment. Across the aisle, Arabella turns to look at her, her eyes blank and yet contemptuous. She begins to feel a flicker of uneasiness.

  Where will this end?

  She has assumed that she will be banished. But the Beloved is working the crowd up to a greater climax than that. She has not been afraid of a congregation of mostly middle-aged women, some men, and domestics. But now she looks behind her and sees that they are regarding her with hatred. They know the stories of wicked women, of Jezebels, thrown to the dogs as punishment for their sins. She is the embodiment of evil now, the one who caused death to visit the community, and she will be blamed and punished in order to cleanse the place and protect the Beloved from the disenchantment of his followers.

  ‘What do we do with those who reject truth and follow the ways of the evil one? What is good for the lustful whores of Babylon who hunger for the spawn of Beelzebub?’

  The Beloved has never spoken like this before. Scared, Letty gets to her feet and shouts, ‘This is all a lie!’

  Her voice startles him into silence. Then he turns to look at her, and she sees triumph in his eyes. He is glad that she has engaged with him, for he believes he is certain to defeat her. He will twist her words until, as he promised, she condemns herself out of her own mouth. She thinks of the way witches were once punished, tossed into a pond or burnt to death, and sees the angry mob grabbing her, hustling her to the lake and forcing her into the water. She begins to shake.

  ‘A lie, is it?’ sneers the Beloved. ‘You want to defend evil – how can it be otherwise? You will find us united and strong, despite your attempts to defeat us!’

  ‘A lie,’ Letty says firmly. ‘I intend to leave this place, and none of you may stop me.’ She turns to face them all, trying to control her fear and her shaking hands. ‘I wish none of you ill, and I reject the claims of the Beloved. It is ludicrous to accuse me of these outrageous untruths, and in your hearts, you all know it. Sarah died because the Beloved cannot promise you immortality. You know this! You can see it with your own eyes! He has fathered a child with my sister! He is the same as the rest of us – human and a sinner.’

  She can tell from their faces that they do not believe her for an instant. They do not want to hear it.

  ‘Blasphemy!’ roars the Beloved, his eyes flashing. She has played into his hands, but how could she fail to? ‘Impious, vile blasphemy, filth spouted by a demon! Seize her!’

  Two of the younger Angels, their faces flushed with the passion his words have inspired in them, rush forward and grab her arms.

  Will I be beaten? Letty thinks with fright. She would not have believed them capable of it, but now she realises that if the first blow is thrown, they will all rush in a frenzy, like a pack of hounds at the kill. Where will it stop?

  ‘A lost sheep who will not be found and brought home!’ spits the Beloved. ‘A wandering sinner who will not be redeemed!’

  At that moment, the door to the church is flung open and young Dickie, the errand boy, comes running in, breathless and red-cheeked. ‘They’re coming!’ he shouts.

  Everyone turns to watch him pelting up the aisle, a newspaper under his arm.

  ‘What?’ demands the Beloved.

  ‘It’s all in the paper – about this house, and about you, your worship! And what you’ve promised us all, and what you’ve declared!’ Dickie is panting as he comes to a halt in front of the Beloved. He holds out the paper. ‘They’ve had a meeting in the village and they’ve worked themselves up into a fury all right. That young man what lived here and married the miss, he read it out to them. He wrote it!’

  Mrs Kendall shrieks and collapses into her husband’s arms, moaning as he tries to hold her steady.

  The Beloved snatches the paper from Dickie’s hands before anyone can see what is written there. ‘Foul lies!’ he declares. ‘As you would expect. And they are coming here, you say?’

  ‘They’re marching here,’ Dickie says, his eyes bright with excitement. ‘I kept just ahead of them all the way on me bike. They say they want the reckoning, and I’ve never seen them so het up.’

  There’s a murmur of disquiet among the faithful. The outside world is about to arrive at the doors and demand an explanation.

  ‘Calm, brothers and sisters, be calm!’ The Beloved is at his most serene, his huge hands held out to settle them. ‘Do not be afraid. We will meet these villagers, and speak to them, and explain the truth. Be strong in faith! We have nothing to fear.’

  ‘And what about this one?’ demands the Angel holding Letty’s right arm. Her nails are pinching uncomfortably but Letty dare not complain.

  ‘Bring her with us,’ decrees the Beloved. ‘We shall decide on her punishment when the villagers have left us in peace.’

  He sails forward to lead them out of the church. A procession forms behind him, and the next moment, one of the brass players starts tooting a hymn on his instrument and they begin to sing and clap as they walk behind the Beloved.

  He has such complete faith in himself. He’s not afraid of what Arthur’s written about him in the press, or of what the villagers think. Letty knows that it’s the Beloved’s claims of divinity that will fill them with loathing and outrage. Does he guess it?

  ‘Come on,’ mutters the rougher of the Angels, tugging her arm viciously. ‘You’re coming with us.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ says Letty, as they fall into step at the back of the procession, just behind Arabella, who walks slowly, swaying slightly as she goes. ‘I’m coming.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  When I wake up in my bed, I can hardly believe what I’ve done. Archer is beside me, lying on his front, fast asleep, one muscled arm dangling down, the other curled above his head on the white pillow.

  I let him bring me here. I let him take me to bed. I curdle inside thinking about it. I’m old enough to be his mother!

  Maybe not his mother. But there must be a good ten or twelve years between us at least. Why did I do it?

  He insisted.

  He did insist, in the sweetest, most alluring way, but with a firm refusal to take no for an answer. ‘It’s written,’ he kept saying,
holding my hand and stroking my hair. ‘It’s supposed to be this way. Trust me. I’ve seen it.’

  And in the end, I couldn’t resist. He kissed me with soft, tender presses on my lips, again and again, until I could take it no more. My frozen soul unthawed and awoke, filling up with a craving for everything I’d so carefully put to sleep. All I can remember now is the unfamiliarity of his body, his stranger’s scent, and the way, most of all, I longed for Rory.

  Rory is part of another existence now. One that is far away and that I’ve given up all rights to. I abandoned it and now I can never go back. I understand that. My experience with Archer has not only made me an unfaithful wife – and an old fool, I suppose – but it has made it clear to me at last that when I left, it was for good. They would never want me back now. I’ve left them all behind. Rory, Caz, my mother, my sister . . .

  ‘Good morning, Rachel.’ A blue eye is fixed on me, a half-smile emerging from under the pillow. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’ Archer turns over, yawns and stretches. I admire his smooth brown torso with its well-formed muscles, but with a detachment that surprises me, considering what we’ve done together. He is a good-looking man, there is no doubt about it. But in the end, it’s just packaging. And I find myself thinking nostalgically of Rory’s soft solidity instead.

  Don’t. That’s all gone. You may as well freeze yourself back up again. Better if you do.

  Archer reaches out a hand to me. ‘Thank you for that, Rachel. I will really remember it.’

  ‘Oh. Thank you. So will I.’

  ‘It’s something that happens with all new recruits. It has to. We have to share the love, don’t we? And I was particularly hoping that we’d have an older woman with us. That’s why I said to Alison, take that one. She’s the one.’

  I stare at him, uncomprehending for a moment. Then I remember. Alison, from ARK. The one who recruited me to be a guardian here.