The Gospel Makers

by Anthea Fraser

  ‘Not in so many words, but she was obsessed with it — wouldn’t let it out of her sight. I had to bring it downstairs every morning and take it back up again at night. She couldn’t manage it herself, because of her stick. And often when I came into the room she was just sitting staring at it. To be honest, it gave me the creeps.’

  ‘One last question, Miss Preston. What charity was the girl collecting for?’

  ‘Oh, something to do with the Third World — I forget the name.’

  In all probability, Webb reflected grimly, the ‘third world’ referred to was not the one usually associated with the phrase. He watched a group of blackbirds splashing in the pond, his mind revolving round what he’d just heard. Lucy and Ruth, Vince and Terry, Liz. Would those names mean anything to Nina? He was damn sure they would.

  *

  ‘Hannah?’

  ‘Hello, Dilys! How are you?’

  ‘Decidedly twitchy, my dear.’

  ‘Oh, how so? The baby proving a distraction after all?’

  ‘Not in himself, I have to say. It’s probably just me. Hannah, I have a favour to ask. Could you possibly call round today or tomorrow? For tea, perhaps, or drinks if you prefer?’

  ‘Today’s out, I’m afraid. I’m seeing some parents this afternoon and there’s a meeting after school.’

  ‘Tomorrow, then? Please?’

  ‘You do sound edgy — what’s wrong?’

  Dilys lowered her voice till Hannah had to strain to hear it. ‘It’s this nanny, Hannah. There’s something strange about her — really strange — and it worries me having her in the house.’

  ‘But surely Susie was —’

  ‘Yes, I know, I keep telling myself that.’

  ‘You don’t think —’ horror crept into Hannah’s voice — ‘you don’t think she’d do anything to the baby, do you?’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Dilys said positively. ‘She dotes on him. That’s her only saving grace, as far as I’m concerned.’

  ‘But —’

  ‘Look, I can’t explain. I just want you to meet her and tell me what you think. You’re a good judge of character; if you tell me I’m being barmy, I’ll believe you and perhaps be able to get down to this blasted book again. Please, Hannah.’

  ‘Of course, if you’re as worried as that. Tomorrow, then, and tea would be lovely.’

  ‘Fine. You don’t know what a load that is off my mind.’

  Hannah replaced the phone thoughtfully. Dilys had always had a hyperactive imagination — it was, after all, how she earned her living. But Hannah had never known her react so strongly to someone before. She would be quite interested to see this nanny for herself.

  *

  ‘Excuse me, Miss Hendrix —’

  Mattie, alone in the classroom at the end of the morning’s lessons, jumped and looked towards the door. Stephanie French and Marina Chase stood watching her hesitantly and her heart plummeted. She’d been expecting this for the last week.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘We wondered if you could help us. Miss James has confiscated our cassettes and pamphlets — we thought you ought to know.’

  ‘Cassettes?’ Mattie echoed weakly, to gain time.

  ‘Yes, that we were given last week. She found out about them somehow, and sent for us to ask what they were all about.’

  This was worse than Mattie had expected and her heart set up a loud, frightened hammering. ‘What did you tell her?’

  ‘Nothing.’ It was said with a touch of defiance.

  ‘Did you — mention my having been at the meeting?’

  ‘No.’

  She felt a wave of relief. Would she have denied her beliefs if Miss James had confronted her with them? Oh, if only she had the strength that was needed to be a Gospeller!

  No wonder the Prelate had taken her to task last night. She had, he implied, been handed these two young minds on a plate — an ideal opportunity to draw them in. And what had she done? Nothing! Even now, when they’d come to her for help, she was wavering hopelessly.

  She said, ‘What do you want me to do?’

  The girls looked at each other as though puzzled by her indecisiveness, as well they might be.

  ‘Could you get us some more? We’re supposed to play them every day.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll — I’ll get you some.’

  ‘Thank you.’ They waited uncertainly for a moment longer, and when she remained silent, went together out of the room.

  Mattie put her head down on the desk and wept. What a weak, spineless fool! She’d been given the perfect chance to talk to the girls, have a discussion with them — they were obviously hungry for knowledge. She even had papers and tapes of her own she could have lent them. And what had she done with this heaven-sent opportunity? Sat with her eyes fearfully on the door behind them, longing for them to leave before someone came along. What kind of disciple was she? A failed one, that much was obvious. A failed disciple with a failed life.

  She lifted her head, fumbling for a handkerchief and trying to control herself sufficiently to go along to the dining-hall. The only thing that kept her going, she thought, was her love of teaching and at that, she knew, she excelled. It was small comfort, but it was all she had.

  *

  When Webb returned to Carrington Street, it was to find a message waiting for him. Roderick Soames and his wife had been located in Scotland, given the news of Kershaw’s murder, and were flying home that evening. Thank God for that, he thought. He was counting on Soames for the answers to several outstanding queries.

  He lifted the intercom on his desk. ‘Nina, could you spare a moment?’

  ‘I’ve got some names which I imagine are associated with your lot,’ he greeted her as she came into his office. ‘Lucy, Ruth, Vince, Terry, Liz. Mean anything to you?’

  Nina said steadily, ‘Yes, they’re all Revelationists.’

  He tilted his chair back, his eyes on her face. ‘What are they like?’

  ‘Very pleasant.’

  ‘A little more than that, Inspector, if you please.’

  ‘What do you want to know, sir? They’re in their early to mid-twenties, I’d say. The boys help out at the Youth Club; Ruth’s a doctor’s receptionist; Lucy and Liz are unemployed.’ She’d learned all that the previous evening. ‘Why?’ she added, when he remained silent.

  ‘Just that they’d been sniffing round the mother of our murder victim.’

  ‘Did she make a complaint?’

  ‘Far from it. Gave them tea and had them round for the evening.’

  Nina nodded, as though she’d have expected as much, which for some reason annoyed Webb.

  ‘The housekeeper thought they were making a nuisance of themselves,’ he added shortly. ‘All right, thank you. That’s all.’

  There was no need for the Governor to be so hostile to the group, Nina thought resentfully, forgetting it was she who’d originally implanted his suspicions. But they were warned to expect hostility and, to be fair to the DCI, there had been complaints that children were being alienated.

  Momentarily, she thought of Alice and a quiver went through her. But she’d trust her with the Revelationists any day, of course she would. In fact, Daniel had already asked to meet her. The trouble would be trying to explain his presence to Mother.

  *

  When they arrived at the school that afternoon the Frenches were surprised, and not pleased, to find the Chases also waiting to see Miss James. Relations had been strained since Edward had come face to face with Gordon and his ‘fancy woman’, as he termed her, in Ashmartin a month or two back.

  Not, he reflected now, that they had ever been friends. Put bluntly, the Chases were social climbers, and it was only the friendship of their daughters that had forced some kind of bond between them.

  ‘Do you know what this is about, old man?’ Gordon Chase asked with false heartiness. ‘Smoking behind the bike sheds or something?’

  ‘Oh, surely not!’ his wife put in, flashing a nervous glance at Chris
tina and regretting her own choice of outfit. How had she ever thought this dress suited her? And she did wish Gordon wouldn’t force himself on Edward like that. Anyone could see he was gritting his teeth to remain civil. Oh God, why had they sent Marina to this snooty school? She always felt like a duck out of water here.

  ‘Well, if she does smoke, old thing, she’ll have got it from you.’ Gordon had detected her disapproval and was stung by it. ‘Regular old chimney these days!’

  ‘It calms my nerves,’ Diane snapped back, and turned quickly to Christina. ‘It was so sweet of you to invite Marina over last weekend, but we’d planned a family celebration. I hope you didn’t mind?’

  Christina smiled without replying. Since Marina had apparently spent the weekend with Stephie anyway, no celebration, family or otherwise, had been in evidence.

  Their discomfort was ended by the school secretary coming for them, though Hannah was conscious of the residual friction as she greeted them.

  The contrast between the two families could hardly have been more marked: Mr French tall, carelessly well-dressed and sure of himself; Mr Chase, florid-faced and slightly rumpled, with a defensive smile on his face. And the women might have belonged to different species, the one so elegant and soignée; the other with tightly permed hair and a skimpy dress that did nothing for her. But as Edward turned on the charm, he might have been surprised to know with which couple her main sympathies lay.

  ‘Thank you so much for coming,’ she began as they seated themselves. There was a tray on a side table and the secretary poured tea and handed it round before quietly leaving the room. Immediately, Diane’s prime concern became how to balance the fragile cup and saucer without spilling the tea, and to eat silently the crisp biscuit which accompanied it.

  ‘As you’ll have gathered,’ Hannah was continuing, ‘something rather worrying has happened, but before I explain, I’d be grateful if you could tell me how the girls spent last weekend.’

  Four startled pairs of eyes met hers and immediately dropped away. She waited politely. Edward French, naturally, was the first to recover.

  ‘Stephanie went to a disco, didn’t she, darling?’

  To her annoyance, Christina felt herself flush. ‘I believe so, yes.’

  ‘You believe, Mrs French?’

  ‘That’s where she usually goes. I told her to be back by eleven and to phone if she wanted collecting.’ Which, surely, was all that was required of her; but when Hannah didn’t immediately speak, she added with a malicious glance at Diane, ‘She was with Marina.’

  ‘This was Friday evening?’

  Christina nodded.

  ‘And did you collect her?’

  ‘No, she was home by ten-thirty.’

  ‘Surely she made some comment about her evening?’

  ‘No.’ Impatient to make love, they’d simply bidden her good night and gone straight upstairs.

  ‘And you didn’t ask her?’

  Belated guilt made Christina snappy. ‘We don’t interrogate our daughter, Miss James. If she volunteers anything, fine. Otherwise we don’t pry.’

  ‘With fifteen-year-old girls “prying”, as you call it, can sometimes be very necessary. Last Friday might well have been one of those times. What about Saturday, then?’

  Christina was beginning actively to dislike the woman. ‘On Saturday I had to fly up to Scotland on business. I didn’t get back till Monday, after Stephanie had returned to school. My husband, naturally, was at home.’

  Hannah turned with raised eyebrow to Edward, who also looked uncomfortable. ‘Actually, I was embroiled in a golf competition most of the weekend,’ he admitted. ‘Unfortunate in the circumstances, but there you are. That’s how things work out sometimes.’

  Hannah’s voice was dangerously quiet. ‘Did you have any contact with your daughter over the weekend, Mr French?’

  ‘Of course I did,’ Edward blustered. ‘We had breakfast together both days, and I was home in time to run her back here on Sunday evening.’ He paused. ‘I even offered to cook her bacon and eggs, but she floored me by announcing she’d turned vegetarian.’

  Hannah leaned forward. ‘Was that on Saturday or Sunday?’

  What the hell did it matter? ‘Saturday, just after my wife left. I remember wishing she was there to deal with it.’

  ‘So you’ve no idea how Stephanie spent either Saturday or Sunday while you were — embroiled in the golf competition?’

  He reddened and shook his head. Damn woman, showing him up in front of the Chases. It was about time she started lashing into them. Which she proceeded to do.

  ‘What about Marina, Mrs Chase? Was she with you all weekend?’

  Diane started at being addressed, and some biscuit crumbs fell on the carpet. She tried to rub them in with her shoe. ‘Er, no, not all the time.’

  ‘So what did she do on Friday evening?’

  ‘She went to a meeting.’ It was said with a triumphant glance at Christina; at least she’d known where her daughter was. ‘I thought it was something the school had arranged,’ she added diplomatically, ‘specially since Stephanie was going.’

  ‘Did she tell you about it afterwards?’

  ‘Oh yes, she was full of it — very flushed and excited.’

  ‘So what kind of a meeting was it?’

  ‘A religious one. They met two nice boys there and were going to see them the next day.’

  ‘And did they?’

  ‘Yes, she was out all day Saturday. I didn’t worry; I thought if the boys were religious, they must be all right. When she came back, she told me she was going to stop wearing make-up because it was a kind of deception, and anyway, Terry said she didn’t need it. And she didn’t want to eat meat or fish any more either.’

  ‘I didn’t know all this,’ Gordon interrupted.

  ‘That’s because you weren’t there,’ his wife retorted.

  ‘You mean they’ve gone religious?’ Edward sounded dazed.

  ‘I think,’ Hannah said, lifting a cassette player on to the desk, ‘it’s time we listened to this.’ She switched it on, watching the four of them as they sat in stunned silence while the tape played itself through.

  Then Edward said in a strangled voice, ‘Who the devil was that?’

  ‘Devil’s right,’ Gordon muttered.

  ‘He’s the leader of a New Age cult called the Revelationists. I believe it was their meeting the girls went to on Friday.’

  ‘Where did you get the tape?’ Christina demanded.

  ‘From Marina, but Stephanie was with her. Someone overheard them playing it. They’d a sheaf of pamphlets in their lockers, containing more of the same.’

  ‘But they don’t believe it, surely?’ Diane asked shakily. ‘Mrs Chase, they’re young, impressionable girls. I can think of many adults who’d be taken in by it.’

  ‘But what can we do?’

  ‘Hope we’re in time to stop them getting too deeply involved. They’re under constant supervision here, but I’d strongly advise you not to leave them to their own devices during the holidays, at least until this has had time to die down. I realize,’ Hannah added, with an edge to her voice, ‘that it might be inconvenient, but you now know the dangers they can be exposed to.’

  She stood up and came round the desk to hand each of the men a small card. ‘This is the telephone number of Cult Helpline, which was set up specifically for the families of those involved with these sects. They’ll be able to advise you. In the meantime, the best thing you can do is surround your daughters with love and understanding, stress how much they mean to you, and hope they’ll respond.’

  They couldn’t get out of her study quickly enough, Hannah noted ruefully, aware that the home-truths she’d hinted at had not been palatable. Not that she’d any sympathy with them particularly the Frenches, whose cavalier attitude amounted to neglect.

  Hannah sighed and glanced at her watch, saw that she had barely an hour before the staff meeting and settled down with some work.

  As i
t happened, she’d not even that. Less than five minutes after the parents had left her, a quick tap on the door brought her secretary, white-faced, into the room.

  ‘Miss James, I’m sorry to disturb you, but Miss Hendrix has been taken ill.’

  Hannah exclaimed with concern, pushing back her chair. ‘What happened? Where is she?’

  ‘Matron’s taken her to the sick-room. As to what happened, I’m not sure. She was in the middle of a class and just seemed to collapse.’

  Lack of food, probably, Hannah thought as she hurried to the sick-room and pushed open the door. Miss Baxter, the school matron, was bending over the narrow bed on which Miss Hendrix sat with her face in her hands, sobbing hysterically.

  The matron turned a worried face towards her. ‘I’ve phoned for Dr Templeton, Miss James. I’ve no idea what’s wrong but I think sedation is indicated.’

  ‘Which class was she taking, do you know?’

  ‘The Lower Sixth, in room thirty-one.’

  Hannah nodded and, since she could do no more for the invalid at the moment, hurried away to see what she could learn.

  The hum of apprehensive chattering reached her as she came up the stairs, stopping abruptly when she appeared in the doorway. The entire class rose to its feet. Hannah’s eyes, flicking down the rows of anxious young faces, alighted on one of the prefects.

  ‘Sit down, everyone. Caroline, will you tell me, please, what happened to Miss Hendrix?’

  Caroline Dashwood remained standing. ‘She was testing us on Macbeth quotations, Miss James — act, scene, characters — that kind of thing. We weren’t doing too well and Miss Hendrix had to prompt us several times. Then she asked whether a certain passage came before or after Duncan was murdered, and we got that wrong, too. And suddenly her face just crumpled. She hurled the piece of chalk on to the floor and just collapsed over the desk, sobbing and crying. It was awful, Miss James. We didn’t know what to do, so Roberta ran for Matron.’

  ‘Did she say anything before she collapsed?’

  Caroline’s voice shook. ‘I think she said, “Now I can’t even teach any more!” That made it worse, as though it was our fault.’ She added almost pleadingly, ‘Is she feeling better now?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. The best way you can help is to settle down quietly and revise the passages you fell down on. You owe her that, at least.’