The Revelations (20 page)

‘Is it true Philip left earlier?’ she asked.

‘Yes. I drove him to the station.’

‘Did you tell David?’

‘No.’

‘He’ll be cross.’

‘I know. I think he has the impression that all he has to do is get people as far as the Retreat and then any reservations will be blown away by the beauty of the voices, by the sense of community and friendship and safety. But Philip was just, I don’t know, disappointed.’

Lee sighed and flicked her cigarette into the misty foliage that surrounded them.

They rounded a bend in the path and saw Mouse and Abby coming up the hill hand in hand. Mouse was carrying a bottle of wine. Each time he took a swig he would pass it to Abby, who gulped in turn. They were both laughing and Mouse raised the bottle in the air when he saw Marcus and Lee on the crest of the hill above them.

‘Hey you two! Where did you get to? You missed an inspiring ceremony. Abby and I scattered lily petals onto the roofs of the lorries. We allowed nature to cover over the abomination of the motorway-beast.’

He stood before them, panting, and held out the bottle. Lee took it and swigged greedily. Marcus, whose head was beginning to pound, smiled and looked at Abby. Her cheeks were flushed and she had turned up the collar of her coat so that her wide face nestled in a frame of fur. Her eyes were soft and kind and she reached out her arms to him. Marcus stepped into her embrace and tried to return the love that he felt flowing from her, but all he could think about was the boat’s hard floor against his knees, the taste of Lee that still flooded his mouth and his nostrils, the sin he had committed. The four made their way back up the hill towards the house, Mouse still chattering wildly.

Lee and Abby went up the stairs together while Mouse and Marcus struggled to impose some sort of order on the chaos of the dining hall. Marcus woke the twins, who stretched and yawned like cats, smiling up at him as he attempted to eject them from their wardrobe lair. Mouse collected glasses and bottles, stacked chairs and straightened the tables. They worked quietly, the house heavy and silent around them. When they had finished, Mouse clapped Marcus on the back and they made their way upstairs together.

‘I’m just having the most brilliant time. I live for this, you know?’

Abby was already asleep when Marcus came into their room. The curtains were open and a banner of moonlight fell down across the bed, illuminating Abby’s pale skin, her white pyjama bottoms. He crossed to the window and looked out into the night. The mist had receded and now hung only over the lake, which was a silver cloud in the valley below. He pressed his hands against the cold glass of the window. Abby turned over in bed and sighed. Marcus took off his clothes until he was standing naked in the bright whiteness of the moon. There was something purifying about the light, and it was with a sense of regret that he pulled the curtains closed, the darkness covering Abby. He crossed to the sink and brushed his teeth in a thin needle of water, keen not to wake her. He slipped into bed next to his wife, who groaned in her sleep and turned over again, gathering the duvet between her legs. Marcus lay on his back, not minding the cold, and fell into a deep, dark sleep.

He woke twice in the night from nightmares where the decomposing rooks, oscillating in the misty air above the
pheasant
feeders, came suddenly alive, screeching and
flapping
their bone-wings, trying to escape the wire that held their feet. Each time he woke, his heart racing, his face hot despite the coldness of his uncovered body, he felt that someone had been in the room until just a moment before he opened his eyes. His mouth was dry but he couldn’t move from the bed, frozen by a creeping
horror
that unfurled in his mind when the night’s events came back to him. He heard noises echoing around the dark house, thumps and creaks and, once, the faint sound of someone crying out. He slept fitfully until the sky lightened outside his window. When the hands of his watch moved around to seven o’clock, he rose and dressed silently. He needed to speak to Lee.

The curtains of Lee’s room were open, revealing a grey world where the pine trees huddled in conspiratorial conference above the still waters of the lake. The abandoned nests of rooks and jackdaws hung in the trees’ tallest branches like lookout posts on ships’ masts. Marcus saw Lee’s clothes strewn across the carpet and thought that she too, on returning to her room the night before, had crossed to look down upon the lake. Her bed had been slept in. The sheets were crumpled and the duvet kicked to the floor. He could see streaks of the orange pollen from the lilies scattered across her pillow. He wondered if she had taken one of the flowers up to bed with her.

He walked along the corridor and looked down on the empty courtyard below. The photographs of the Earl’s ancestors seemed to pass judgement upon him as he crossed in front of them. He stepped down the main stairway and the silence and the gilt-framed portraits and the cool light coming down from the atrium roof made him feel like he was in a museum that had been closed to the public for many years, a repository of dead memories. When he came into the kitchen the lights were off but Mouse was sitting at the table with a mug of steaming coffee, staring out into the bleak morning. His hair was a wild shriek above his head, his shoulders slumped as he sipped at the coffee.

‘Hi, Mouse. Are you OK?’ said Marcus.

Mouse jumped and turned to look at Marcus.

‘Hello, sport. What are you doing up?’

‘I couldn’t sleep.’

‘Me neither. It was a big day yesterday. I feel a bit sad that it’s over.’ He spoke very quickly, and Marcus noticed that his hands were shaking enough for coffee to spill from the mug.

Marcus sat down next to Mouse and felt his friend’s leg jittering beneath the table. He gently put his hand on Mouse’s knee. Marcus could smell body odour, vegetation, coffee. The bags under Mouse’s bulging eyes reached down his cheeks.

‘You know Philip went home?’

Mouse took a sip of coffee.

‘Did he?’ He shrugged. ‘It’s a shame, but there’s always a few who get freaked out. We shouldn’t beat ourselves up too much. I always thought he was a bit flaky.’

They sat together in silence as the house slowly woke around them. They heard doors banging and voices and then Mrs Millman came bustling into the room.

‘Well then you two, sitting here in the dark. Let’s have some lights on and I’ll make bacon and eggs for you both.’

The light surprised Mouse and he turned quickly away from Marcus. The smell of the rashers sizzling on the stove brought down most of the Course members. Abby was wearing one of Marcus’s jumpers over her pyjamas and helped Mrs Millman to serve breakfast. She sat down next to Marcus.

‘I wonder where the old folks are?’ she whispered to him. ‘I can understand Lee having a lie-in, but David and Sally went to bed really early.’

Marcus was about to speak but took a mouthful of bacon instead. After a while the Earl and David came into the room together. David hadn’t shaved and the stubble made his face look grey and drawn. Marcus wondered if they had carried on drinking after leaving the younger members the night before.

‘Morning, guys.’ David clapped his hands together as he sat down. ‘Doesn’t this look splendid? Thanks so much, Mrs Millman.’

After breakfast the Course members went up to their rooms to change for the morning service. Marcus shaved in the small sink, trying not to look too hard into the age-spotted mirror. Abby sang under her breath as she dressed. He watched her move around the room. She stood in a white bra and passed a deodorant stick under her arms, reached across him to wet her toothbrush under the tap and stood looking out of the window as she brushed her teeth. Finally, she pulled on a shirt and a red pullover and came up behind Marcus as he finished shaving. She hugged him from behind, reaching around to stroke his smooth damp cheek with one hand.

‘I should go and wake Lee. It isn’t like her to sleep in: she’s usually the first one up.’

He waited and listened as Abby went out of the room. He heard Lee’s door squeak as it opened and he realised that he had heard the same sound repeatedly in the night – it brought back the dry-mouth panic of his nightmares. Abby came back in.

‘She’s not there. Maybe she went down to the chapel early. I tried her phone but it went straight to voicemail.’

They walked down the stairs together. The Earl and Mouse were talking in the centre of the entrance hall. Mouse watched them descend with a thin smile on his lips. The Earl turned towards them.

‘Young Mouse and I were discussing the paintings here. I bought them on Cork Street over the years. No idea who they are or who painted them. Unless it says on the frame, of course. They come, I suppose, from country-house clear-outs; I like to think of them as my family. Who knows, some of them might be.’

They made their way out into the damp morning air and down to the chapel. The Earl walked beside Marcus, leaning towards him conspiratorially.

‘I don’t know if you heard me last night telling Neil about this uranium mine in Azerbaijan. Astonishing money to be made out there. And some useful tax loopholes to exploit. Let me know if you’d like to put a bit of cash in. Wouldn’t have to be a lot. I like to throw a bone the way of you youngsters every so often . . . ’

Marcus hardly heard him, mumbled something, and then let the Earl’s long strides carry him on ahead. Marcus stopped at the entrance to the church and looked back up at the huge house. Smoke drifted from the high chimneys, rooks squabbled on the roof. He made out the window to Lee’s room. The glass reflected the grey streaks of the sky. Abby called his name and he walked through the dark archway and into the chapel.

Lee wasn’t inside. Marcus and Abby walked to the stage where Mouse was already sitting behind his drum kit, spinning his sticks and making rat-a-tat noises with his mouth. David and Sally Nightingale were sitting in the front pew, both of their heads bowed in prayer. The Earl made his way in to sit beside them. Abby and Marcus sat on the edge of the stage. She took his hand and whispered to him.

‘Where’s Lee? We can’t play some of the songs without her. It’s really very bad of her not to turn up.’

The remaining Course members filed into the church and David walked slowly up to the stage. Marcus thought he detected a slight limp as the priest climbed up behind the lectern.

‘Welcome, all of you. I hope there aren’t too many sore heads. The Retreat will be formally over after this service, but we’ll all be around to chat, to answer questions, to have a cup of coffee afterwards. Now let us pray.’

The service dragged by. Marcus felt as if he was watching it from a great distance, that time was being spooled out terribly slowly. Each time he looked at his watch he couldn’t believe that only three or four minutes had passed since his last surreptitious glance. David insisted on the Sunday service being a formal Holy Communion, and the Earl and Sally acted as sacristans, preparing the bread and wine. Marcus knew how different the words of the service would sound to the new members now that they were fully initiated: charged with extraordinary meaning and significance, no longer the repetition of stale prayers but rich with the promise of greater revelation. He looked over at Abby, whose mouth hung eagerly open, as if inhaling the words, preparing for the joy of Communion. The twins sat in the front row, beaming, barely able to keep their heads lowered during the prayers. Only Maki looked bored. Marcus saw her flicking through the pages of the hymnal, a sad smile on her lips. The band played songs that they knew well enough to cover Lee’s absence and then the service was over and the Course members filed out into the grey morning.

Mouse offered Marcus a cigarette and they walked over to the edge of the woods, looking down through the trees to the lake. Abby, continuing up the hill towards the house, called down to them.

‘I’m going to find Lee. What time are you thinking of heading home? We should probably offer to stick around and help clear up. We might even get a bite to eat.’

Marcus drew on his cigarette.

‘I think I’d like to get back. Let’s head off as soon as we can without being rude. You OK with that, Mouse?’

‘Sure, grand. I’m going to sleep all the way home.’

They stood and smoked. Mouse had picked up a stick and was tracing patterns in the ground with it. Marcus tried to read something in the runes that Mouse left in the red earth at his feet, but lost himself in the snaking furrows. He found a stone and threw it as hard as he could towards the lake. It landed well short, plunging down through the canopy of trees, sending a pair of jackdaws up squawking into the sky. He saw Abby standing at the back door as he came up towards the house. She scurried down towards them.

‘I think she’s gone. I think Lee has left like Philip did. Her handbag is gone. Some of her clothes, too. We should tell David. Will you come with me?’

Marcus, feeling suddenly sick, ground his cigarette out in the damp grass.

‘Sure, I’ll come.’

The Nightingales were packing in their room when the three friends knocked on the door.

‘Come in!’ David’s voice was husky. He was standing over the bed folding a pair of identical white shirts. ‘Hi, guys. How can I help?’

Abby stepped forward. Marcus could see that Sally Nightingale was packing her underwear and was attempting to manoeuvre the black lace pile into a suitcase and out of sight.

‘It’s Lee. We can’t find her anywhere. She was, well you know how she gets sometimes . . . She was on the edge of one of her slumps last night. I worry that she might have gone home.’

David stood up straight and looked directly at Marcus.

‘I know about Philip. You should have told me before taking him away from here. Sometimes the people who have the strongest reaction against the Retreat are those who are closest to letting God into their hearts. I should have spoken to him before he went. I would have made him stay. We can’t afford to lose people. You know that.’

Marcus, feeling his hangover throbbing behind his eyes, stared back at the priest.

‘I just don’t agree with keeping people here against their will. He would have taken a taxi if I hadn’t driven him. At least the car journey gave me some time to work on him. He may come back, and at least then it’ll be his choice.’

David narrowed his eyes.

‘If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s Lee’s. I could wring her neck. But let’s find her first. Didn’t she do something like this a few years back? Someone found her curled up with a book out of sight somewhere, as I remember it. Has anyone tried calling her mobile? She’s probably still drunk from last night.’

‘It’s turned off,’ Mouse said. ‘I’ve tried a few times.’

They made their way back downstairs together. The Earl and Mrs Millman were waiting in the gloomy hallway. David went to stand beside them and turned to face the three friends.

‘You take the top floor, Marcus. Mouse and Abby, why don’t you have a look in the woods? She might have gone for a walk. We’ll search the ground floor.’

Marcus took the steps up two by two, reached the landing and turned right, away from the east wing where they had been staying. He walked along another long corridor whose doors opened into empty, silent rooms. A rocking horse stood against the wall halfway along the corridor. He stood and placed his hand on its cool, mottled haunches. A child’s hand had ripped clumps from the mane, the tail was now just a few white hairs. The saddle was worn slick, the bridle broken and hanging down from between the horse’s square white teeth in two ragged strands. Marcus gave the horse a gentle push and it lurched forward, a painful shriek of protest coming from the rust-sealed joints. He walked on, and the eerie screeching of the horse pursued him as he went.

A spiral staircase led up to the tower he had seen from the lake. He ran up the steps and into a dust-filled study. Books lined the walls and a cluttered desk stood against the far wall. In the centre of the desk there was a half-drunk bottle of brandy next to four crystal glasses. One of the glasses was still full. Marcus went over to the desk, sniffed the brandy in the glass and downed it. He cleared the burn from his throat and went back down the steps.

Through a pair of white swing doors, and around a corner, he found himself in a corridor identical to the one that led to their rooms. He looked out of the window onto the courtyard below and realised that he must be in the west wing. The rooms here were largely unused, full of crates and piles of books and furniture covered in dust sheets. Paintings in chipped frames were stacked facing the wall. He came upon the room with a frieze of mermaids that Mouse had spoken about. The frieze was set in the wall above a huge four-poster bed that sagged when Marcus knelt upon it. The fish-tailed women were very beautiful, breasts jutting out from the tresses of hair that fell around them, stomachs flat and swimming-toned. Marcus ran his hand slowly over the bas-relief carvings. Sea horses and dolphins frolicked behind the women, and in the background whales lurked in the depths. Marcus eased himself off the bed and crossed to the gabled window, opened it and leaned out. From his lofty vantage point he looked down on the gravel driveway below. The day had all the grey hopelessness of late October.

Nightingale’s silver Mercedes saloon was parked next to the Earl’s Bentley. The bus that was due to take the Course members back down to London was sitting with its engine idling on the other side of the turning circle. But his car, which he had parked under the branches of a pine tree when he had come back from dropping Philip at the station, was gone. He ran back down the blank, cold corridors, past the staircase leading up to the tower, and along to his room. He looked on the dresser for his car keys. Then, flinging aside Abby’s neatly folded clothes, he searched for the jeans he had worn the previous day. The pockets were empty. He walked down to the entrance hall where David and the Earl were standing drinking mugs of tea.

‘She’s gone,’ he said.

‘What do you mean?’ David looked at him with raised eyebrows.

‘She’s gone. She has taken my car. Let me try her phone again.’

He reached into his pocket and dialled her number. Lee’s voice asked him to leave a message. Mouse and Abby came into the hall.