Adam shook his head. ‘And I was going to insist you saw a doctor, once you were out of here.’
She smiled. ‘I’m not mad. But perhaps you’ll believe me now. There is danger, and Evie is the one charged with leading you right into it.’
‘These ghosts … Don’t they haunt Seb and Kasia?’
‘They’ve never mentioned it. They wouldn’t haunt Evie’s friends, though. Evie has special protection.’
Julia’s voice was bitter.
‘Special protection?’
> ‘As the village mascot. The one who performs all the rituals.’
‘I am going mad,’ muttered Adam. ‘Dear Lord and Father of mankind, have mercy on me. My indulgence of the flesh has poisoned my brain and I suffer delusions …’
‘Stop it, Adam. They are not delusions.’
He stood up and started collecting his clothes from the bedroom floor.
‘They drove my parents mad, by inhabiting my body when I was a small child. The things they made me do … You’ve seen the film Poltergeist?’
‘Never.’ He paused in the midst of putting on his trousers to frown at the concept of horror movies, of which he strongly disapproved.
‘Oh, never mind. And my husband’s heart attack – that was their doing. Not that I entirely blamed them for that one …’
‘Julia!’
‘You mustn’t go. Please stay.’
‘I can’t stay. You are in league with Satan. I have to go.’
‘I just want to save you …’
‘You are damning me. You and your – perverse lusts.’
‘Hey – they’re your perverse lusts too. Don’t put this on me. You’re every bit as sex-mad as anyone in this village. You just can’t handle it, that’s all.’
‘I was pure. I lived a chaste life, until I came here. I have to leave. I have to get away. This is what they call a breakdown, is it?’
He laughed wildly.
‘Don’t go.’
She lunged for him, but he had put on his boots and he sidestepped her, hurrying through the upper corridors to the main staircase, looking left and right for signs of the presence that had so terrified him, but it was gone and he left the house unhindered.
He ran across the moonlit lawn and vaulted the broken wall. He did not break his pace until he was back at the vicarage.
He went straight to the study and booted his computer, then fired off an email to the Archdeacon.
‘I have been feeling unwell both in body and spirit since coming to Saxonhurst and I would be very grateful if you would agree to giving me some time off for a retreat. There is a place on the Welsh borders I have visited before. I suspect some weeks spent in solitary contemplation will revive my wearied mind and re-invigorate my faith. Please indicate as quickly as you can whether this will be possible.’
He sat awake, staring at his inbox for hour after hour, not that he expected a reply at least until morning.
‘Please respond,’ he whispered.
Evie was due back today. He had been unfaithful to her. He couldn’t face her. And besides, he was going mad. The faith that had been so strong was unravelling, falling away, breaking into chaos. He sat back in the chair and shut his eyes, but then he opened them again, afraid of what he might dream.
The Archdeacon’s reply, a terse nod coupled with some griping about how hard it would be to find a stand-in at such short notice, came just after Mrs Witts had arrived to prepare the breakfast.