117
K’an represents the heart, the soul locked up within the body, the principle of light enclosed in the dark – that is, reason.
The I Ching or Book of Changes
It was only as Robin approached Prudence’s house that she registered, in some dim region of her mind, that she’d spotted a blue Ford Focus in her rear-view mirror at another point in the journey. She rounded the corner of Prudence’s street, and the blue car drove innocently past. Preoccupied with the imminent meeting between Will and Flora, Robin immediately forgot it again.
‘You’ll like Prudence,’ she said reassuringly to Will, who’d barely spoken during the journey. ‘She’s really nice.’
Will looked up at the large Edwardian house, shoulders hunched and arms folded, an expression of intense misgiving on his face.
‘Hi,’ said Prudence, when she opened the front door, looking understatedly elegant as ever in cream trousers and a matching sweater. ‘Oh.’
Her face had fallen on seeing Strike.
‘Problem?’ he asked, wondering whether she’d expected him to call and apologise after their last, heated phone call. As he considered himself entirely blameless in the matter of identifying Flora, the idea hadn’t occurred to him.
‘I assumed it would just be Robin,’ said Prudence, standing back to let them all in. ‘Flora isn’t expecting another man.’
‘Ah,’ said Strike. ‘Right. I could wait in the car?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Prudence, with a slight awkwardness. ‘You can go in the sitting room.’
‘Thanks,’ said Strike. He caught Robin’s eye, then headed wordlessly through the door to the right. Prudence opened a door on the left.
Like the sitting room, Prudence’s consulting room was tastefully decorated in neutral colours. A few decorative objects, including jade snuff bottles and a Chinese puzzle ball, were arranged on wall shelves. There was a sofa upholstered in cream, a flourishing palm tree in the corner and an antique rug on the floor.
A pale and very heavy woman of around thirty was sitting in a low, black, steel-framed chair. Every item she wore was dark and baggy. Robin noticed the thin white self-harm scars on her neck, and the way she was clutching both cuffs of her long-sleeved top, so as to hold them down over her hands. Her curly hair was arranged to cover as much of her face as possible, though a pair of large, beautiful brown eyes were just visible.
‘Have a seat, Will,’ said Prudence. ‘Anywhere you like.’
After a moment’s indecision, he chose a chair. Robin sat down on the sofa.
‘So: Flora, Will, Will, Flora,’ said Prudence, smiling as she sat down too.
‘Hi,’ said Flora.
‘Hi,’ muttered Will.
When neither of them showed any further inclination for interacting with each other, Prudence said,
‘Flora was in the UHC for five years, Will, and I think you were in for—’
‘Four, yeah.’
Will’s eyes were darting around the room, lingering on some of the objects.
‘How long have you been out?’ he shot suddenly at Flora.
‘Um… eleven years,’ said Flora, peering at Will through her fringe.
Will got up so suddenly, Flora gasped. Pointing at her, Will snarled at Robin,
‘It’s a trap. She’s still working for them.’
‘I’m not!’ exclaimed Flora indignantly.
‘She’s in on it, as well!’ Will said, now pointing at Prudence. ‘This place –’ He looked from the Chinese puzzle ball to the antique rug, ‘it’s just like Zhou’s office!’
‘Will,’ said Robin, getting to her feet, too, ‘why on earth would I have gone undercover at Chapman Farm to get you out, only to lead you straight back to them?’
‘They fooled you! Or, it’s all been a test. You’re an agent of the church too!’
‘You found the plastic rock,’ said Robin calmly. ‘You saw the torch and the traces of my notes. If I were a church agent, why would I have been writing to outsiders? And how would I have known you’d find the rock at all?’
‘I want to go back to Pat’s,’ said Will desperately. ‘I want to go back.’
He was almost at the door when Robin said,
‘Will, your mother’s dead. You know that, don’t you?’
Will turned back, glaring at her, his thin chest rising and falling rapidly. Robin felt she had no choice but to resort to dirty tactics, but it wrung her heart, nonetheless.
‘You looked it up online, didn’t you? Didn’t you?’
Will nodded.
‘You know how much I risked at Chapman Farm, by telling you that. You heard them talking about me after I left, and you found out my real name, and tracked me down to exactly where I should have been, at our office. I’m not lying to you. Flora was a church member, but she got out. Please, just sit down and talk to her for a bit. I’ll drive you back to Pat’s afterwards.’
After almost a full minute of deliberation, Will returned reluctantly to his chair.
‘I know how you feel, Will,’ said Flora unexpectedly, in a timid voice. ‘I do, honestly.’
‘Why are you still alive?’ said Will brutally.
‘I wonder myself, sometimes,’ said Flora with a shaky little laugh.
Robin was starting to fear this meeting was going to do both parties more harm than good. She looked at Prudence for help, and the latter said,
‘Are you wondering why the Drowned Prophet hasn’t come for Flora, Will?’
‘Yes, obviously,’ said Will, refusing to look at Prudence, whose offences of possessing snuff bottles and antique rugs were apparently too severe for him to overlook.
‘The Drowned Prophet kind of did come for me. I’m not supposed to drink on my meds,’ said Flora, with a guilty glance at Prudence, ‘and I’m try not to, but if I do, I start feeling like the prophet’s watching me again, and I can hear her telling me I’m not fit to live. But nowadays I know the voice isn’t real.’
‘How?’ demanded Will.
‘Because she hates all the things I hate about myself,’ said Flora, in a voice barely louder than a whisper. ‘I know it’s me doing it, not her.’
‘How did you get out?’
‘I wasn’t very well.’
‘I don’t believe you. ‘They wouldn’t have let you go just for that. They’d have treated you.’
‘They did treat me, kind of. They made me chant in the temple, and gave me some herbs, and Papa J –’ A look of disgust flickered across Flora’s half-concealed face ‘– but none of it worked. I was seeing things and hearing voices. In the end, they contacted my dad and he came and picked me up.’
‘You’re lying. They wouldn’t do that. They’d never contact a flesh object.’
‘They didn’t know what else to do with me, I don’t think,’ said Flora. ‘My dad was really angry. He said it was all my own fault for running away and causing a load of trouble and not answering letters. Once we got home, he was really pissed off with me chanting and doing the joyful meditation. He thought it was me trying to stay in the religion… he didn’t understand that I couldn’t stop… I could see the Drowned Prophet standing behind doors and sometimes I’d see her reflection in the bathroom mirror, right behind me, and I’d turn around but she’d be gone. I didn’t tell Dad or my stepmum, because the Drowned Prophet told me not to – I mean, I thought she told me not to…’
‘How d’you know it wasn’t the Drowned Prophet?’ said Will.