Page 180 of The Running Grave

Clearly deciding no good would come of responding to Shawna, the young man turned back to his conversation.

‘Bodies don’t matter,’ Shawna told Robin firmly. ‘On’y spirit matters.’

She leaned in again, once more talking in a conspiratorial whisper.

‘Vivienne wanted to spirit bond with ’im and I ’eard ’e ran out there, loike, crying, hahaha. Thass proper egomotability, thinking people aren’ good enough to sleep with.’

Robin nodded silently, which appeared to satisfy Shawna. As they ate, Robin tried to lead Shawna onto the subject of Jacob, but other than Shawna’s confident assertion that he was bound to pass soon, because Papa J had decreed it, found out no more information.

Robin’s next letter to Strike was devoid of useful information. However, two days after placing it in the plastic rock, she and the rest of the high-level recruits, minus Kyle, were led to another crafting session by Becca Pirbright.

It was a hot, cloudless June day, and Becca was wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the church’s logo instead of a sweatshirt, although the ordinary members continued to wear their heavy tracksuits. Field poppies and daisies had bloomed along the path to the Portakabins, and Robin might have felt uplifted but for the fact that fine weather at Chapman Farm turned her thoughts to all the places she’d rather have been. Even central London, never the most comfortable place in a heatwave, had a halcyon quality to her these days. She could have put on a summer dress instead of this thick tracksuit, bought herself a bottle of water at will, walked anywhere, freely…

A startled mutter issued from the group as they approached the Portakabin where they usually made corn dollies. The tables had been moved outside, so that they wouldn’t have to endure the stuffiness of the crafting room, but their surprise had nothing to do with the relocated tables.

Several church members were constructing a twelve-foot-high man of straw beside the Portakabin. It appeared to have a strong wire frame, and Robin now realised that the large straw sculpture she’d previously seen Wan working on had been the head.

‘We make one of these every year, in celebration of the Manifestation of the Stolen Prophet,’ the smiling Becca told the group, who were all contemplating the large straw man as they sat down at the crafting tables. ‘The prophet was a gifted craftsman himself, so—’

Becca’s voice faltered. Emily had just emerged from behind the straw sculpture, hands full of twine. Emily’s head was freshly shaven; like Louise, she clearly hadn’t been given permission to let her hair regrow yet. Emily threw Becca a cold, challenging look before returning to her work.

‘—so we celebrate him by the means he chose to express himself,’ Becca finished.

As the group reached automatically for their piles of hollow straws, Robin saw that her companions had now graduated to making Norfolk lanterns, which were more complex than those she’d previously made. As nobody seemed inclined to help her, she reached for the laminated instructions on the table to see what she had to do, the sun beating down upon her back.

Becca disappeared into the crafting room and returned with the leatherbound copy of The Answer from which Mazu had previously read while they worked. Removing a silk bookmark indicating where they’d last got to, Becca cleared her throat and began to read.

‘“I come now to a part of my personal faith story that’s as dreadful as it’s miraculous, as heartrending as it’s joyful.

‘“Let me first state that to those who live in the bubble world, what I’m about to relate – or at least, my reaction to it, and my understanding of it – is likely to be baffling, even shocking. How, they’ll ask, can the death of a child ever be miraculous or joyful?

‘“I must begin by describing Daiyu. Materialists would call her my daughter, although I’d have loved her just the same had there been no fleshly bond.

‘“From her earliest childhood, it was evident that Daiyu would never need awakening. She’d been born awake, and her metaphysical abilities were extraordinary. She could tame wild livestock with a glance and locate lost objects unerringly, no matter how far away they were. She showed no interest in childish games or toys, but turned instinctively towards scripture, able to read before being taught, and to speak truths it takes many people a lifetime to understand.”’

‘And she could turn herself invisible,’ said a cool voice from over beside the towering straw man.

Several of the group glanced at Emily, but Becca ignored the interruption.

‘“As she grew, her powers became only more exceptional. The idea of a four- or five-year-old having her degree of spiritual calling would have seemed nonsensical to me had I not witnessed it. Every day she grew in wisdom and gave further proofs of her pure communication with the Blessed Divinity. Even as a child, she far surpassed me in understanding. I’d spent years struggling to understand and harness my own spiritual gifts. Daiyu simply accepted her abilities as natural, without inner conflict, without confusion.

‘“I look back now and wonder how I didn’t understand what her destiny was, although she spoke to me of it, a few short days before her earthly end.

‘“‘Papa, I must visit the Blessed Divinity soon, but don’t worry, I’ll come back.’

‘“I imagined she was speaking of the state pure spirits attain when they see the face of the Divinity clearly, and which I have achieved myself, through chanting, fasting and meditation. I knew that Daiyu, like me, had already seen and spoken to the Divinity. The word ‘visit’ should have warned me, but I was blind where she saw plainly.

‘“The Divinity’s chosen instrument was a young woman who took Daiyu to the dark sea while I slept. Daiyu walked joyfully towards the horizon before the sun had risen and disappeared from the material world, her fleshly body dissolving into the ocean. She was what the world calls dead.

‘“My despair was unconfined. It was weeks before I understood that this is why she was sent to us. Hadn’t she said to me, many times, ‘Papa, I exist beyond mere matter’? She’d been sent to teach us all, but to teach me particularly, that the only truth, the only reality, is spirit. And when I fully understood as much, and after I’d humbly told the Blessed Divinity so, Daiyu returned.

‘“‘Yes, she came back to me, I saw her as plainly—’”

Emily laughed scornfully. Becca slammed the book shut and got to her feet while the apprehensive corn dolly-makers pretended not to be watching.

‘Come in here for a moment, Emily, please,’ Becca told her sister.

Her expression defiant, Emily set down the straw she’d been binding to the torso of the gigantic statue and followed Becca into the cabin. Determined to know what was going on, Robin, who knew there was a small portable toilet to the rear of the crafting rooms, muttered, ‘Loo,’ and left the group.