Adam bent his legs and hid his face in his knees.
She was sent to test me. I failed.
He rose heavily, still in his black shirt, which had ridden up to his nipples, his trousers rumpled around his ankles. His black boots had never been removed, and his stomach was tight with flaking dried semen.
He was thirsty and there was a vile taste at the back of his throat.
As soon as he registered it, he thought of Evie, and the huge surge of longing and guilt and tenderness and exasperation and loving hatred almost knocked him back on to the bed.
‘Adam, don’t be like this.’ Julia sat up, ran fingers through her hair.
‘Like what? We have to go. The driver’ll be waiting for us.’
And so will Evie.
He pulled up his trousers and buckled his belt. He left the room without a backward look.
In the car park, the villagers milled, many the worse for an afternoon spent in the seafront pubs.
‘’Ere ’e is – the reverend ’imself.’
Laughter of a not particularly charitable nature greeted Adam as he hurried across the car park, still beset by an urge to vomit. No sign of Evie.
‘You look rough, Rev. Too much communion wine?’
Adam shook his head and tried to smile, but the nausea was stronger than ever.
It was another five minutes before Julia appeared, looking as immaculate as ever.
She hoisted herself on to the bottom step of the bus with a feline smile and a flash of leg and left Adam to his clipboard.
What if she said something? What if she spread it round the village that they had …?
But the return of Evie broke into his worries. Back in her halter dress, she tripped through the cinder car park as merrily as if she had just returned from a picnic in a fragrant meadow rather than a pole-dance competition in a tawdry dive bar.
Drawing close to Adam, though, her placid expression soured.
‘Where’s your girlfriend?’ she hissed.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yeah, you do. Your fancy piece. Nice bit of aristo fanny you’ve landed there, vicar. Congrats.’
‘Evie, there’s nothing –’
‘Oh, don’t bother about me. I know when I’ve been outclassed.’
She flounced on to the bus, with that same flash of knicker-free bottom she’d given him on the outward voyage.
He had to throw up into some scraggy weeds on the other side of a low brick wall before they set off again.
Chapter Eleven
THREE TIMES AROUND the old well Evie skipped, then three times in the other direction, then the final three revolutions before she sank to her knees and spoke the words of the spell.
‘I feel your strength tonight.’ The spirit spoke, after their long embrace of greeting. ‘How many did you take?’
She shrugged. ‘A few. Won a pole-dancing contest. Got lots of offers from that.’