The Moon Spun Round (46 page)

‘Sounds good. I was at the nursery this morning: I thought you’d like this.’ Claire places a plant in the centre of the table.

‘Oh, that’s lovely, thank you. Though I’m not very good with house plants.’

‘Thought you’d say that. It’s a peace lily. They’re easy: just keep it warm and watered. But I won’t be offended if it dies on you. No, Cat, don’t chew the leaves.’ She lifts Cat up and carries her over her shoulder like an infant, while Sally makes the tea.

‘I went to look at the house yesterday.’ Sally takes the milk from the fridge. ‘It looks awful, Claire. I can’t begin to imagine how you must have felt.’

‘Strangely enough, I didn’t really feel anything much. It was like it had nothing to do with me. Which, I suppose, it hasn’t any more. I think Naomi was more upset about it than I was.’

‘It’s this ritual business, the spell we cast for Ruth. She feels responsible, as if what’s happened to Ayden were all her fault.’

‘Yes, I gathered that. But we were all in it together, weren’t we? I know I wasn’t actually present, but, even so, it was just as much my doing as hers. Though I think there’s more to it. She’s been in a strange mood for a couple of days, and she won’t talk to me about whatever’s bothering her. I’ve got a feeling it does have something to do with Ayden.’

‘Here, have some tea.’ Sally places mugs on the table, avoiding looking Claire in the eyes. She’s still carrying the car crash on her own conscience. ‘And what about Ayden? Have you spoken to him about the fire?’

Claire puts Cat down on the floor and pulls up a chair. ‘No, I haven’t. And I’m not planning to make any claim on the insurance payout.’

‘But surely you’re entitled—’

‘I was hoping to go to the pool, if that’s OK.’

‘Of course it is. You know you don’t have to ask.’

‘I need a few moments there. To sort of give thanks, I suppose. This fire, what it damaged was just bricks and plaster. It was never a home. What I
do
feel is, well, strangely clean. It’s as if I’ve been released from something. I think the house being destroyed may have finally broken the links with Ayden. And my father, too, maybe. I no longer feel anything for either of them. The only person I’m angry with is myself. And ashamed.’

‘Why? What on earth have you got to be ashamed of?’

‘Allowing it to happen in the first place. I should have seen what he really was, and then I should have had the guts to stand up to him. By the time I realized what I’d got myself into, I was trapped. How could I be so gullible, so pathetic?’

‘Look, that’s rubbish.’ Sally grabs Claire’s hand. ‘You’re the strongest person I know. To be able to live like that and to bear it all and say nothing. That’s part of the problem, Fran thinks. You, and a lot of women, are too strong for your own good. You all put up with it because you can. Just one more day, then another. Hang in there and it will all come right. But it never does. At least you had genuine cause to be afraid—I allowed myself to be mentally abused because I was frightened of not being loved. How pathetic is that?’

‘Fran reckons it’s because we’ve lost touch with the Goddess. That we’re looking for our salvation in all the wrong places.’

‘I’m beginning to think she might be right. Would you mind if I come with you?’

‘To the pool? Of course not. Bring a jug and we’ll get some spring water for the new plant’

The churchyard is grey and empty. The last rays of sunlight strain through the clouds; a little wind, not enough to stir the trees, tosses flower petals on the graves. Claire is standing beside Ruth’s grave. The days are beginning to draw out and, as the café closes at four, she has time to visit while it’s still light. She has brought a spray of white roses, which she arranges in a vase after first removing the faded ones from her last visit. Ruth once told her that white roses were her favourite. When the season is right, Claire will plant a small rose bush here.

Suddenly, she’s aware that she’s no longer alone. A swish of grass, a crunch of stones. Something cold slithers up her spine. She walks carefully around the grave so that, when she raises her head to look at him, Ruth will lie between them. He’s several yards away. Near enough to make her heart beat harder, yet far enough that she can run if she needs to. For a moment she considers that to be her best, her only, course of action, but something in the slackness of his face, the forward bend of his shoulders, makes her hesitate. He reminds her of a rumpled garment that has begun to unravel, thread by thread. His hair has
grown long and greasy; stubble shadows the greyness of his skin. There’s a rip in the sleeve of his coat.

She has taken him by surprise, as he has her. For a long time he stands and stares. His eyes are still full of that dark anger, but behind them, further, deeper, she can sense a flicker of fear that was never there before.

‘Claire?’ He doesn’t move.

Energy surges through her limbs. She can run if she needs to, but she holds her ground.

‘Claire, when are you coming home?’

‘What home? I believe it no longer exists.’ She shakes her head. ‘I’ve seen a solicitor. I’m getting a divorce.’

For the briefest moment a wave of shock washes over his face, to be hidden, instantly, by that smirk of derision. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘I’ve also made a statement, an affidavit. If anything—anything—happens to me it will be handed to the police.’

‘Oh, yeah? And who’s going to believe a crazy woman?’

‘No, that won’t work any more, Ayden. Not after what you did to me.’ Then slowly, deliberately allowing each word to find its target, ‘Do you seriously think I’d rather live with you than be locked away somewhere safe where you can’t touch me?’

For once Ayden can’t think of anything to say.

‘Besides, who would believe you? Look at yourself. A drunk who smashes up his car and burns his house to the ground?’

He feels confused. It isn’t supposed to be happening like this. ‘It’s her, isn’t it? She put you up to this. She’s doing this to me and you’re helping her. And the others. You’re all in it together!’

Claire feels it almost physically, as if a rein has tightened in her hands and the muscles in her arms respond, testing her strength. She pulls her shoulders back, raises her head. ‘I don’t know
what
you mean.’ The faintest lift of her brow.

Whatever he was expecting from her, it wasn’t mockery.

‘Don’t think I don’t know how to deal with you. There’s something you haven’t counted on. Someone who’ll know how to put a stop to what you’re doing.’ Ayden glares, breathless, then turns his back on her, striding off towards the porch and through to the church.

The moment she hears the door slam behind him, she runs for her car, scattering the dead roses along the path.

B
UT THE MOON
, F
RAN
, why should I be so…I mean, is there any reason it would have such a weird influence over me?’ Sally is drawing crescent shapes in the condensation on her kitchen window.

‘Oh, all sorts of reasons. Your moon could be in a very strong position in your natal chart. But you can’t look at one factor in isolation; you’d have to study the whole horoscope to see what’s going on.’

‘Is that something you can do?’

‘Well, I know
how
to do it, the theory that is, but I’m hardly what you’d call an expert. I’m certainly willing to have a go.’

‘I know you’re busy, but—’

‘I can always find time for a friend. However, it may take a while. I’m going to be a bit tied up over the next few days.’

‘Why, what are you up to?’

‘New Year. Time for some changes.’ Fran’s eyes are focused on the distant fields.

She has been quiet since she arrived, and tense, almost nervous. Not like the usual Fran.

‘Naomi thinks that you and Claire are up to something.’

‘Does she? Well, Naomi’s usually right about most things. However, that’s not the reason I came round to see you.’ Fran takes a deep breath. ‘I came to ask you to come to church tomorrow morning.’

‘Church? Well, I don’t usually—I mean, Christmas was a one-off thing. Why? Is it some special service?’

‘No, nothing like that. It’s Ayden. He’s been to see Edward a couple of times. I think he’s up to something.’

‘Ayden?
Wouldn’t have thought those two would have much in common.’

‘Precisely my point. I’d like to think his conscience had got the better of him and he was seeking spiritual counsel.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Sally snorts.

‘So, when Edward gets a mysterious phone call and Ayden turns up at the vestry, alarm bells start to ring. He was there again last night. His van was outside when I arrived home, about seven, but I don’t know how long he’d been there. I tried listening at the door, but these old buildings weren’t designed for eavesdropping. However, I managed to be nearby when he came out and they said something about the morning service this Sunday.’

‘And did you ask Edward what it was about?’

‘Yes, but he won’t tell me anything. In fact he’s been in a strange mood ever since.’

‘Whatever it is, it can’t be good. What about Abbie?’

‘Already spoken with her. She and George will be there of course, matter of form, but I thought Abbie should be warned. I think it’s best if Claire and Naomi keep out of the way, so don’t say anything to either of them. You know what Naomi’s like with Edward, and if Ayden intends to cause trouble…’