Capcir Spring (14 page)

Mary paused at the edge of the group to take in the scene before her. No one had yet noted her presence. Edouard looked very agitated. His face had turned a bright shade of red and he was waving his arms about as he spoke quickly and harshly in his deep voice. As a result of his anger his thick local accent had become very pronounced and though she was quite close Mary found it difficult to understand much of what he was shouting. As she listened began to understand that Andre and his friends were being told to leave the historic site and even the whole region in no uncertain terms by Edouard.

She moved closer. She could see now that as well as anger there was also fear in the faces of Edouard and his assistant. The travelling people surrounded their vehicle. They were silently staring at the two men, menacing purely by their presence and numbers rather than any outward expressions of malice. She noticed they were not all standing still. Some of them were moving very slowly at the rear of the vehicle, collecting together some bags and boxes that had been unloaded from Edouard's vehicle and beginning to reload it into the open back door of the Izuzu Trooper.

Mary decided that she must get closer and find out what was going on. She walked right up to the group. The travellers saw or sensed her coming and parted silently to let her pass through into the centre of the group. Everyone suddenly fell silent. All eyes turned and were fixed on Mary.

Insect noises again dominated the scene yet the silence of the valley is not one of peace. The silence lasted and lasted for what Mary thought an eternity. It was not just Mary's arrival that had provoked the silence. It was perhaps more that each party has said what it wanted to say and was waiting for as response from the other side. Mary noticed that Andre's head was bandaged. He looked pale, but perhaps that was only in contrast to the deep colouring of Edouard.

Edouard slowly looked from side to side, carefully taking in the scene around him. He then looked around again at the distant rocks and bushes. He nodded to his assistant and he went and checked that all their equipment had been reloaded into the rear of the vehicle, slammed the back door shut, then they both got back into the front seats. As he was closing the door Edouard paused and broke the silence looking directly at Andre he said. "And don't touch a thing."

He turned and acknowledged Mary's presence for the first time. "Enchante Madame. Do you want to come back to the village with me for your safety? This area seems to be infested with vermin at the moment."

"Thanks, but I have work to finish" she replied.

"Then be careful Mary my dear. Be careful of these people." he shouted as the powerful engine roared into life and in a cloud of dust the heavy four wheel drive roared out of the clearing and down the track shattering the fractured silence of the morning.

"Remember don't you touch a thing," the assistant shouted from his open window the retreating vehicle.

Slowly the dust settled back onto the track as the engine noise disappeared. And with the dust settling the travellers seem to melt quietly back into the bushes and woodland paths. How many of them now had there been? Mary was now unsure. As she first came into the clearing she had the impression of a mighty throng but perhaps there had only been about eight of them. Mary and Andre found themselves alone in the centre of the clearing.

"What was all that about?" Mary asked, "What are you and all your friends doing arguing with one of the most important local people hereabouts?" Andre looked tired.

"It’s a long story, " he begun "And my head aches. Basically I couldn't let him get away with it again."

"What do you mean?" she asked, but Andre stood in silence and refused to elaborate on what he had already said. At length he added, "I can't tell you anything just now. Everything is very complicated and I'm not really sure what is going on. We were here meditating as a group this morning and this big noisy jeep drove into the valley and they started unloading those bags and boxes. They were intruding in the solitude of the valley, the sanctity of these hills. I don't know what they were up to but I will find out. I have to find out. There is so much at stake."

Mary wondered what he was talking about. She had no grounds to be suspicious of her recent dinner guest. And who was this Andre Laporte anyway? That reminded her.

"Did you say your name was Andre Laporte?" He nodded. "The Andre Laporte who wrote about ancient religions in the Midi in an historical journal?" she asked.

His face was transformed as he looked again at Mary with a quizzical light in his eye.

"You have been reading widely," he confirmed. "Yes it was something that I wrote when I was undertaking my doctoral research into ancient religions. It was several years ago now. I then changed direction completely," He paused, "I escaped from the blind alley of academic research and moved onto the right path when I realised these religions were still very much alive in the mountains. I could not write cold academic prose about something that I felt alive in my heart. So I gave up college life for the cross-country ski development job so that I could spend all my time in the mountains with the spirits of the place. This is my life now. I am here. This is where I exist, with out these spirits I am nothing. They are part of me and I am part of them. Everything is one.”

Mary saw a transformation in him into an evangelical preacher brought about by the fervour of his beliefs. At the back of her mind was resonating her fear of men who leave behind their old selves and adopt new identities especially when these were religious men. But Andre seemed a harmless enough sort of eccentric and everything he said and did seemed to be affected with a gentle touch. There was no malice in his fervour that she could detect and certainly he would have some very interesting background information at his fingertips.

"I must go now" he said. "There is much that I have to do today. I am supposed to have a job to get on with. I hope I can find out more about what is going on here." After a brief pause for thought he added, " Why don't you come for supper tonight up to our camp. We eat just after eight. I will not be in a rush and I can give you some background information on all the religions of these mountains. Perhaps too we can pool our knowledge on Mr Edouard's intentions."

Mary hesitated for a moment, Edouard's warning resounding in her head. But here was Andre Laporte, an acknowledged expert on the religious history and heresies of this region offering an invitation to find out more. Like Edouard he would have extensive information available to him which would be useful to Mary. He also might know something about the holes. He was far better placed than she was to unearth what was really going on here. Her hesitation was very brief.

"That would be delightful. Thank you for your invitation. I will look forward to seeing you this evening." He nodded with a smile. "Must get some more aspirins " he muttered as he walked away in the direction of the village.

She watched his tall figure move quickly out of sight. He was a mystery. She again thought of the extensive reading she had done on the various types of mental illness but as quickly put the half formed idea out of her mind. He might be strange but probably not mad. She could relate to the academic and the ski du fond field development officer but the new age religious fanatic was something that frightened her.

She opened her bag and took out her supplies from the bakers and ate her belated breakfast, suddenly realising how hungry she was and how long she had been up and about. Eating alone she recalled with incredulity her thoughts about sharing breakfast that she had on waking.

The remainder of her day was uneventful at the site. There were no interruptions. Indeed she was alone with the flora, fauna and ancient rocks. She worked quickly and finished what she hoped would be her final day on the site measuring and checking and by early afternoon was well satisfied with her efforts. She gave a long last look at the site and took a photograph to keep the memory fresh in her mind and hoped that this would be the last time this year that she would be here. It had been a good trip and there were just a few loose ends to be tied up and the rest could be written up at home.

She made her way back to the flat slowly on the now familiar track and all the way dreamed of the procedures and protocols of organising the big dig next year. She also began thinking ahead to the questions she would ask Andre in the evening.

*****

That morning John climbed high above the village in the mountains. He was alone with his thoughts. There were a few sheep grazing the high pastures but not a human being in site. This was the sort of exercise he needed he thought, congratulating himself on not puffing and panting too much as he made the long ascent. He reached the top by midday and then he descended to a little shady rocky outcrop for lunch. The sun was warm. He lay back on the soft grass. Silence. He had been absorbed in his climb, aware of the eternal present all around him. But now with his eyes closed the secret recesses of the subconscious mind transported him back to the world of the past which doesn't really exist of course but has such a strong hold on each one of us.

He was in his counselling room at the centre. The room tastefully and simply decorated with pastel shades of warm tones. The chairs were soft and comfortable yet upright enough to keep one concentrating and alert. The room just big enough for two people feel they could share confidences easily, but not too small to make them feel intimately uncomfortable.

The chairs today were close, an arms length apart, perhaps too close really. Touch was not supposed to play a part in the healing process, not in these rooms in a one to one setting. Touch was strictly limited to group therapy sessions where people could express their loving concern for one another by hugs and embraces but not here. But facing him, within touching distance was Kate. His mind brought him in the room in the middle of a counselling session and Kate was in one of her highly agitated states, words flowing from her lips in a torrent of reminiscence, reflection and expletives. This was the real Kate that he remembered.

"Being f****d by your father doesn't prepare you well for relating well to men as a whole. That is the most obvious thing that the shrink said to me. How the hell do you think I should have reacted when she told me that. I bet she was a lesbian. She fancied me. That's it. So now father I'm come to see you. But you are not that sort of father. You are a eunuch. Do they cut your balls off in the seminary to make sure you don't stray? Or are you always crossing your legs and you cross so many other things and praying to that God of yours to lead you not into temptation?"

John looked at her. He knew the outburst was like so many others. He wasn't going to rise to the bait. Jesuits, especially those with special training in counselling could cope. But yet she was getting at him today in a way that she hadn't managed previously. And she knew it.

"Kate, do you feel good when you insult me and my God. Does it do something for you?"

"Your right it does. It really turns me on to see you squirm. You're not bad looking really you know, for an old fellow. Its better with older men. Boys rush you and have done what they want before you've ever started. If I came a little closer to you I could see how your training helps you cope. I could see how much of a man you really are, even though you wear a frock."

She moved over to the edge of her chair. She was wearing a very short leather mini skirt on that day and as she moved to the edge of the seat it got shorter. John stared at what is revealed. She saw with interest that his eyes moved to look downwards. She sensed triumph. An interest had been revealed that she didn't know existed. She was getting closer. Those chairs were too close together.

John suddenly felt very hot. He was sweating and his throat was dry. He opened his eyes and the sun has moved round and was now on him with its full midday force. The shade of the rocks had completely disappeared. He sat up.

It is all in the mind he thought to himself. It is my fantastic imagination. Kate is gone. But it wasn't really like that was it. She did try to make me re-think my boundaries. Was she really a slut who tried to seduce me from the outset. A little demon against whose wiles I was helpless, through inexperience, to resist. Was it really all her fault?

John stared out at the distant lake and mountains across towards the border with Spain. But the view that had transfixed him as he ate his lunch meant nothing to him now. It was as if it didn't exist.

Was it really like that? He thought back to the words recalled in the daydream and though he racked his memory he was fairly sure that this incident, this exact dialogue never really happened. Or was it that his immense sense of guilt had blocked out the real Kate to keep alive a idealised image of the helpless young girl led astray by and evil old lecher.

Then another thought came to him. If Kate wasn't like that then it was subconscious again playing tricks. It is trying to demonise Kate and make her wholly responsible so that he can walk blameless away. Good old subconscious, he thought, looking after me and trying to get me out of a tight spot. But I won't wear it. John said almost out loud. She was no angel but he knew he had at least an equal part in the blame for what happened.