“Wow, that’s quite an endorsement,” Fran said.
Caleb laughed. “I promised no hard sell, didn’t I? I’m sorry, I just get a little over-enthusiastic. Do you have any questions for me before taking the test?”
“What is the personality test?” Fran asked.
“Oh, sure. Well, it’s nothing painful.” He waited for her to laugh. “There’s no final exam. It’s just exactly what it sounds like, a series of questions to determine your goals, as well as your strengths and maybe a few of your weaknesses too. We all have them.” He grinned.
“How long does it take?” Fran asked.
“An hour, give or take. But don’t feel rushed. Take your time with it. Afterwards, we’ll have a chat about your answers. Does that sound all right? Not too scary now is it?”
“Not scary at all,” Fran said.
“Good. Let me get you all set up.”
Fran pushed her chair back to allow Caleb to tap the mouse and load the questionnaire. His description of it seemed a lot like the kind of personality tests you could take online, like the Myers-Briggs or “Which Mental Illness Do I Have”.
“Don’t worry, I’ll let you do it in peace. I’ll be next door if you need anything. Just knock. There’s a water cooler and cups in the corner. You’re all set, Francesca. You made a great decision coming here today. I have a good feeling about you.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Fran joked.
Caleb laughed. “Trust me, I don’t. But I am a good judge of character and you’re giving me good vibes. Good luck with the test now. Holler if you need me.”
And with that, he left her with the computer. Fran started to read the questions.
You often contemplate the existence of life after death. Strongly agree. Agree. Agree somewhat. Neutral. Disagree somewhat. Disagree. Strongly Disagree. Fran ticked strongly agree and moved on to question two.
Chapter Sixty-One
THEN
Caleb had to pull the truck over to allow Mary to be sick. There was some commotion as Elijah held on to her while she vomited at the side of the highway. He told Caleb he wasn’t going to let her run off because Father wanted her back. He didn’t want to disappoint Father.
For the first time since Esther learned they were going home, she felt fear creeping over her skin like hundreds of scuttling insects running up and down her arms. In her seven-year-old mind, her mother had always been the grown-up providing a barrier to the things she wanted most, like going back to Father James or not leaving for England in the first place. But now, Mary’s obvious terror was rubbing off on her. It made her face up to something—her pain.
She’d felt such love from the family. There were days heady with it. Hugs and kind words came at her in abundance. And then there were days that were nothing like that at all, where she felt invisible, or worse. Esther sat in the truck with her hands resting on her thighs. She thought about pressing her thumbs deep into the flesh to make it all stop. She did that often, hurting herself to stop those thoughts. Pressing down so hard that sometimes it left a small, purplish bruise.
Even though it was night by the time they reached the ranch, the whole family were waiting for them outside the farmhouse. Esther heard Mary’s heavy breathing, the crunch of the tyres on the path. Three or four lines of faces waited for them. She searched for Grace, Paul and Delilah but she couldn’t find them. Perhaps they were in bed already. One face she did see smiled at her and her heart skipped a beat. Seeing him instantly soothed all of her worries.
“Oh God,” Mary said. “No, Elijah. Please. I wanted to get away from this and now you’ve brought me back to them.”
“Stop whining, woman!” He smacked the back of her head, grabbing hold of her hair. “I never said I’d stay away from the Reckoning. I never promised you that.”
Mary reached across and took Esther’s hand. “I’m going to look after you. I promise. No matter what happens.”
“Oh, come on, Mary,” Caleb said with a smile. “You of all people know we don’t hurt children in the family.”
“Yes,” she said, “me of all people.” Her eyes shone like pearls in the dark.
Esther didn’t have time to wonder what that meant because the truck was coming to a halt. Caleb gave Mary one hard stare before he opened his door and the four of them piled out. The group of people greeting them had grown since the last time Esther was at the Ranch. There were several faces she didn’t recognise at all. But it didn’t matter, and it didn’t scare her. She knew they would be friendly and nice because Father was a good judge of character. If he said someone was good, they were good.
There was a rush of movement as they walked around the vehicle to the group. All the women crowded around Mary, beaming smiles on their faces, arms open wide. They engulfed Mary, pulling her into the centre of them. Then they stroked her hair and kissed her cheeks and wrapped their arms around her. “Sister,” they said, one by one at first and then together in chorus. “Sister.” Mary folded into them, a thin body inside a mass of limbs.
The men enveloped Elijah in the same way. They clapped his back and rubbed his hair. They hugged him, pulled him inside the group. There were tears in Elijah’s eyes. “Brother,” they said. “Brother.” Elijah said it back to them. Esther watched, waiting. Soon the adults broke apart and turned to her. They stepped closer and opened their arms wide. Esther closed the gap between them, ready to be smothered by the warmth of their bodies. They wrapped their arms around her, and while she was nestled within the group, she heard the chorus hum of “Daughter.”
Love.
Esther did not know much about the outside world because she’d spent so little time in it. But from what she’d seen of Leacroft, none of those people knew love like she knew love. This was love. This was acceptance.
They pulled away so that Esther stood in the middle of a wide circle. Mary was on her right, with Elijah on her left. He was weeping happy tears while Mary was standing straight and still, eyes trained on the man in front of them. Father.
He was dressed in his sermon outfit. White linen trousers and shirt with a gold thread running through the fabric. A gold watch matched both the suit and his tan. He wore sunglasses despite it being night. Esther understood why. She knew the power of his gaze. His white teeth were almost an alarming contrast against the night sky. He raised his arms and opened them out wide as though attempting to embrace everyone at once. Each finger was circled with a gold band and two on his left pinky. He was flanked by several large men that Esther had always found particularly frightening. Father’s bodyguards.
He stood there allowing the silence to settle. Esther gazed in wonder.
He gestured to Elijah first. “I am joyous. My son has returned.”
Elijah sniffed as he spoke, his voice cracking. “It is wondrous to be in your light again, Father. Can you forgive me for veering from your path?”
Father James shushed him. Elijah wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Then the Father moved closer to Esther and a chill of delighted excitement wormed its way up her spine. Awkwardly, he bent lower and hooked a dry finger beneath her chin. “My daughter. It is a privilege to see your face again. It has been too long, little Esther. I mourn for the months I missed getting to know you.”
Esther blushed. She wholeheartedly felt the power of his words.
Father James straightened up and walked slowly towards Mary. He smiled at her, seemingly oblivious to the tension that even Esther saw running through her body, from the clenched jaw to the white-knuckled fists.
“Mary, Mary,” he said. His voice was soft, almost sing-song. “You ran from me. You stole money from me too. But I think I have missed you the most. My lovely wife. We are once again reconnected.” He raised his hand and slid it down the side of her face. Esther watched a shudder ripple through her mother’s body.
Chapter Sixty-Two
NOW
Fran had intended to work through the questions as quickly as she could in order to reach th
e interview part of the recruitment process, but instead she found herself sucked in. The time estimate was also way off. After an hour, she was barely halfway through. The questions and statements veered from bizarre: You sing often while alone. She ticked agree. To deeply personal: You masturbate often. She cringed and ticked agree. But there was one, tucked away towards the midpoint among a separate subsection of direct questions: Have you ever lost a child?
Fran answered yes. Underneath the question a textbox had been added for additional information. She wrote in it about Chloe’s cot death. She wrote five lines and she felt completely drained. At that point she went to the watercooler and poured a cup of water, idly watching the bubbles gurgling up through the container. She took a moment to check her phone while she hydrated. Adrian had follow-up questions for her. Can’t the police call you when you’re back in England? Surely, you’ve done enough for this family? Perhaps you should come home? She pursed her lips and ignored them before going back to the personality test. Suddenly being asked how often she watched pornography didn’t seem so bad.
After being at the test centre for over two hours, Fran was finally able to sit down with Caleb to discuss the results. He’d printed out a chart which now lay on a table between them.
“I’m sorry about Chloe,” he said. “Thank you for sharing her story with me.”
She hadn’t expected him to single anything out. Hearing those words sent a jolt through her body. “It’s always difficult for me to talk about.”
“Of course,” he said. “I understand completely. This is a safe space, Fran. I want you to know that. Everything about the Children of James is safe. Whatever is said in this room will never leave it. I want you to feel like you can express yourself. Whatever emotion you feel is valid.”
This man—this young man, barely older than twenty—was saying things to her that she didn’t know she needed to hear. She let out a nervous laugh, but inside she felt as though the air had been knocked out of her lungs. It was nothing new or ground-breaking, but at the same time she hadn’t realised how invalidated she’d felt at home.
“I’ll take you through your scores,” Caleb said. “It’s important to note that you haven’t passed or failed anything. This isn’t an examination.”
“Do I get a gold star though?” Fran asked, nervously attempting to keep the conversation light, and privately dreading the results. She’d of course ended up answering the questions truthfully, because it was human nature to do so. Now she felt as though she couldn’t face what the results would tell her.
Caleb gave her a boyish grin. “I’m afraid I just ran out.” His smile faded when he directed his attention back to the chart between them on the desk. “So, there are some subsections here. We look at your inner-wellness, external goals, and soul. Did you realise that you’re depressed?”
Fran laughed. “I’m not depressed.”
“You’re carrying deeply traumatic emotional strain. Have you ever stopped grieving for Chloe?”
“Of course not, but that doesn’t mean I’m depressed.”
“Doesn’t it?” He pointed out some peaks and troughs. “Look at the turmoil of your inner-wellness. It’s all over the place.”
“What about my external goals?”
“I see someone who wants more out of life. You answered strongly agree to the statement that you are drifting in life without a purpose,” he said.
“Did I? I don’t remember.”
He lifted a pen as though they’d hit a eureka moment together. “Ah. Your subconscious took over. That’s good. The more instinctual you are with these tests, the better the results.”
“Right.” She reminded herself that this was pseudo-science designed to seek out the vulnerable. She reminded herself that he was talking nonsense.
“Your inner-wellness and your external goals both come together to make your complete self. Or your soul.” He interlinked his fingers. “I see that you believe in an afterlife.”
“I’ve been a Christian all my life,” Fran said.
“Then you must believe in the soul.”
“Yes.”
“In my family, and by that, I mean the family I chose, not the one I was born into, we take that concept of the soul even further. We prioritise the soul over everything. You are a holistic being. The self is your everything. Your soul, your life essence, everything. Why have you neglected your soul, Francesca?”
She stared at him, unable to blink, suddenly feeling like this boy—who was half her age—was giving her a dressing down.
“I don’t think I have.”
“It’s so easy to do. Most of us neglect our most precious essence.” He pointed at the charts. “But the answers are all here. Inner-wellness and external goals. This is where you start.”
Chapter Sixty-Three
THEN
Esther woke up still buzzing with excitement. She’d been allowed to sleep in the farmhouse that night, a privilege that most children in the family didn’t get. It’d been on the sofa in the lounge area, but it was still much comfier than with the other children. The next morning, she walked with Mary and Father James to the sermon hall, where they would say prayers before breakfast. There were too many residents for everyone to fit inside the kitchen, so there were two long tables set out in the converted barn. Her head craned up to the beams above them. It still smelled like dry straw, with dust lingering in the air, sunlight turning it into gold. She’d missed the sensation of dust hitting the back of her neck as she walked around the ranch.
Two servers stood behind containers of porridge and bowls of fruit, portioning out the food. Esther took her bowl and went to sit with the children. She sat in between Grace and Delilah. On the other side of the table, Mary was idly stirring her food. Esther knew there was something wrong with her, but she didn’t know what. The way her eyes were glazed over reminded Esther of the weeks following the incident in the woods. Perhaps she was possessed by demons. Father James had explained how demons attacked the self. In Esther’s mind, they were dark shadows floating around the infected person, diving in and out like eagles swooping down to kill their prey. She shivered.
“Paul says you went to England.”
Esther turned to look at Grace. They’d been best friends once. They were sisters, of course, even though they didn’t look alike. Grace had olive skin and freckles across her nose. Delilah had black hair and blue eyes. Paul was tall with dirty-blond hair. That was how it was in the family.
“Yeah, we went to this horrible place called Leacroft. It was a drain.” She took a sip of water and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Grace made a disgusted sound. “Why did you go?” She glanced at Mary and then cupped her hand so that she could whisper in Esther’s ear. “Did you run away?”
Esther cupped her hand and whispered to Grace. “She made us go.”
Grace frowned, thinking about Esther’s words, before whispering back, “Why would she want to leave? She’s Father’s favourite?”
Esther shrugged. She didn’t know either. Then she considered whether Mary had been the drain all along. Drains were detrimental to the home they’d built as a family. Father James described them like they were vampires, sucking away everything good. They drained away your inner-wellness. Mostly, he said, it was because they couldn’t believe in anything good. They didn’t believe in Father’s powers for one thing.
She was about to whisper back to Grace when Father James entered the sermon hall. His steps were slower than Esther remembered, and she worried then that he’d been ill or was ill now. There were four bodyguards with him, the same large, intimidating men from the night before. She knew one was called Isaiah. He was bearded and bulky. The tallest she thought might be called Zachary. The others were new.
This morning, Father James was wearing slacks, a black t-shirt and a thick, gold necklace. Immediately, the entire group stood up and bowed their heads in reverence.
Esther dared to peek up as Father James made his way t
o the head of the first table. She saw Isaiah pull back a chair for him as he took his seat. Wood scraped against concrete as the family sat down. They ate in silence, waiting to hear if Father James was going to speak. Esther picked at a strawberry.
“Today I will be meditating at the cabin in the mountains,” Father said. “And I will take Mary with me.”
Esther watched her mother’s reaction but she remained impassive. All she did was set down her spoon and stare into space. She glanced across at Elijah who was sitting with Caleb on a different table. He hadn’t spoken to her that morning, but she didn’t care. She was looking forward to not living with him like they did in Leacroft. He wasn’t her father and she wasn’t his daughter. Everything in Leacroft had been make-believe, like they were putting on a play for the English people.
“There was an illegal marriage between Mary and Elijah while they were gone,” Father James said. “This marriage was illegal because neither of them requested my permission before it occurred. I have now decided that this marriage will be annulled. Mary will continue to be one of my wives. Elijah, you can marry Hannah.”
Esther glanced over at Hannah, a pointy-chinned redhead about Caleb’s age. Esther remembered her as one of the girls who kept visiting them when they lived at an old house in Dove Valley. She watched as Hannah’s eyes widened in shock and her mouth opened as though she was going to speak. The girl glanced over at another boy, Jude, and her eyes glazed with tears. Suddenly, Hannah rose to her feet.
“I’m sorry, Father,” she said. “I’m so grateful that you chose me out of everyone, but I must admit that I was hoping Jude and I—”
“You wish? You? Tell me, girl, are you sitting in my chair?”
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