Page 221 of The Running Grave

He was wearing an upmarket version of the white tracksuits nearly everyone at the farm wore, which appeared to be made of raw silk. On his feet he wore very expensive-looking leather slides. Robin felt the colour leave her face as he walked towards her.

Wace pulled her into a hug. Robin could still feel herself shaking, and knew he could feel it too, because he was holding her so tightly her breasts were squashed against his chest. He smelled of sandalwood cologne and held her far too long for her comfort. She tried to relax, but every muscle was tense. At last Wace loosened his grip, though still holding her in his arms, so he could look down at her, smiling.

‘You’re quite wonderful, aren’t you?’

Robin didn’t know whether he was being sarcastic. He looked sincere. At last, he released her.

‘Come,’ he said again, and returned to the sofa, beckoning her to a black leather chair that sat at right angles to the fire.

‘I’ve heard how you helped deliver Mazu’s baby, Rowena,’ said Wace. ‘Thank you, very sincerely, for your service.’

Momentarily confused, Robin realised he was talking about Wan’s daughter.

‘Oh,’ she said. Her mouth was still so dry it was hard to get out the words. ‘Yes.’

‘And tonight you offered poor little Lin solace,’ said Wace, still smiling as he added ragout to his plate. ‘You are forgiven,’ he added, ‘for speaking intemperately to Dr Zhou.’

‘I… oh good… I mean, thank you,’ said Robin.

She felt certain Wace was playing some kind of game. The smell of rich food, coming as it did immediately after the smell of blood, was making her stomach churn. Breathe, she told herself. Talk.

‘Is Lin going to be all right?’ she asked.

‘“The way of yang goes to and fro, up and down,”’ quoted Wace, still smiling. ‘She’s been foolish, as you’ve probably realised. Why didn’t you tell anyone she was consuming mugwort?’ he asked, apparently idly, as he picked up his knife and fork again.

‘I didn’t know,’ said Robin, as sweat broke out over her scalp again. ‘I guessed. I saw her with some plants a while ago.’

‘When was this?’

‘I can’t remember, I just saw her holding them one day. When I saw that rash she’s got tonight, I thought it looked like an allergy.’

‘There are no allergies,’ said Wace smoothly. ‘The rash was her flesh revolting at what her false self made her do.’

‘Will Dr Zhou be able to help her?’

‘Of course. He understands spirit work better than anyone now alive.’

‘Has he taken her to a hospital?’

‘He’s treating her now, and Taio’s about to remove her to a place of recuperation, so you needn’t distress yourself about Lin,’ said Wace. ‘I want to talk about you. I hear… conflicting reports.’

He smiled at her, chewing, then, widening his eyes, he swallowed and said,

‘But this is shocking of me… you’re missing dinner.’

He pressed a small bell sitting among the various dishes on the table. Moments later, bald Shawna appeared, beaming.

‘Shawna, another plate, glass, knife and fork for Rowena, please,’ said Wace.

‘Yes, Papa J,’ said Shawna importantly, bowing before leaving the room again.

‘Thank you,’ said Robin, trying to act the part of an innocent woman and church member, one who desperately wanted Jonathan Wace’s approval. ‘Sorry, but… what conflicting reports are there about me?’

‘Well,’ said Wace, ‘I’m told you’re a very hard worker. You never complain of tiredness. You show resourcefulness and courage – the labour was long, I hear, and you forwent sleep to help. You also found our Emily in Norwich when she was taken ill, didn’t you? And I believe you previously rushed to her defence when Jiang was giving her instructions. Then, tonight, you were the first to go to Lin’s aid. I think I’ll have to call you Artemis. You know who Artemis is?’

‘Um… the Greek goddess of hunting?’

‘Hunting,’ repeated Jonathan. ‘Interesting you speak of hunting, first.’