A mingled groan and sigh issued from most of the people sitting on the hard, rush-covered floor. Some shook their heads.
‘I want you to think now of the person or people who are most likely to try these kinds of tactics on you. You’re going to write them a calm, compassionate letter clearly setting out why you’ve decided to join the church. Here,’ said Becca, as the image on the screen changed again, ‘are some of the phrases we find most effective in explaining the spiritual journey you’ve begun in ways that materialists can grasp. However, you should feel free to write the letter in any way that feels authentic to you.’
Panic now rose in Robin. Who the hell was she to send a letter to? She was afraid the UHC might check, to make sure both addressee and address were genuine. The recruits hadn’t been given envelopes: clearly, the letters would be read before being sent. Rowena’s fictional parents were the most obvious recipients for the letter, but their non-existence would surely be exposed instantly once she put down a traceable address.
‘Can I help?’ said a quiet voice beside Robin.
Becca had noticed that Robin wasn’t writing and had stepped through the people sitting on the floor to talk to her.
‘Well, I’d like to write to my parents,’ said Robin, ‘but they’re on a cruise. I can’t even remember the name of their ship.’
‘Oh, I see,’ said Becca. ‘Well, you’ve got a sister, haven’t you? Why don’t you write to your parents, via her?’
‘Oh, that’s a good idea,’ said Robin, who could feel sweat rising beneath her sweatshirt. ‘Thanks.’
Robin bent her head over the letter, wrote
I can’t remember when you said you were moving, but hopefully –
Robin thought rapidly. A nickname seemed safest, because it could apply to anyone who might be actually living at the random address she was about to write down. Her eyes fell on the back of Walter the professor’s balding head.
- Baldy will send this on if you’ve already left.
Robin looked back up at the screen. Most of a template letter was there, ready to be copied.
Letter of Declaration of UHC Membership
Dear X,
[As you know] I’ve just completed a week’s retreat at the Universal Humanitarian Church. I’ve [really enjoyed it/found it very inspiring/gained a huge amount] so I’ve decided to stay on and [pursue my spiritual growth/explore further self-development/help with the church’s charitable projects].
Robin dutifully copied out a version of this paragraph, then moved to the second.
Chapman Farm is a closed community and we don’t use electronic devices because we find them disruptive to a meditative spiritual environment. However, letters are passed on to members, so if you’d like to, write to me here at Chapman Farm, Lion’s Mouth, Aylmerton, Norfolk, NR11 8PC.
Robin copied this out, then looked up once more. There were a few final bits of advice about the letters’ contents, and how to terminate them.
Do not use phrases like ‘don’t worry about me’, which may lay you open to emotional blackmail.
When signing off, avoid pet familial terms such as ‘mum’ or ‘granny’, and terms such as ‘love’. Use your given name, no diminutives or nicknames, which demonstrate continuing acceptance of materialist possession.
Write the address to send the letter to on the back of the page.
Robin now wrote:
Please can you let our parents know I’m staying, because I know they’re on their cruise. It’s great to have a sense of purpose again and I’m learning so much. Rowena.
Turning the page over, she jotted down a street she knew from surveillance work existed in Clapham, picked a house number at random, then invented a postcode of which only SW11 was likely to be accurate.
Looking up, she saw that most people had finished writing. Putting up her hand, she passed her finished letter to the smiling Becca and waited for everybody else to complete the task. Finally, when all letters, paper and pens had been collected in, they were permitted to rise and file back upstairs.
