Through a haze of pain she heard the glass door slide open and the curtains being tugged back.
‘What happened?’ said Amandeep.
Will said something Robin didn’t catch through the ringing in her ears. Her panic was nothing compared to the sharp, pulsing pain in her jaw, which was such that she wondered if it was fractured.
Hands hoisted her roughly up onto the bed.
‘… tripped?’
‘Yeah, and hit her face on the wall. Didn’t you?’ Will barked at Robin.
‘Yes,’ she said, unable to tell whether she was speaking too loudly. Black spots were popping in front of her eyes.
‘Had you finished?’ asked Amandeep.
‘Yeah, of course. Why d’you think she’s dressed?’
‘Where were you both, before bonding?’
‘Laundry,’ said Will.
‘I’ll go back now,’ said Robin.
She got shakily to her feet, careful not to look at Will. She’d run for it the second she could: off to the five-bar gate and across the field to the perimeter.
‘I’ll take you both back to the laundry,’ said Amandeep.
Robin’s head was swimming with pain and panic. She massaged her jaw, which she could feel swelling rapidly.
‘We can go on our own,’ she said.
‘No,’ said Amandeep, taking a firm hold of Robin’s wrist. ‘You’ve both been judged to need more spiritual support.’
After a further three hours in the laundry, during which nobody commented on her increasingly swollen face, Robin was escorted to temple for a meditation session led by Becca. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Will peel away from the rest of the group and march towards the farmhouse, omitting even to kneel at Daiyu’s fountain. Panic-stricken, Robin knelt obediently on the hard temple floor, her lips forming the words of the chant, her mind fixed solely on escape. Perhaps, she thought, she could slip away into some shadowy recess of the temple at the end of the session, lurk until the others had left, then make a break for the blind spot at the perimeter. She’d run across country, find a call box – anything but spend another night at Chapman Farm.
However, at the end of the chanting session, Becca, who’d been leading the meditation from the raised pentagonal stage that hid the baptismal pool, descended before Robin had any chance of implementing this risky plan and walked directly up to her, while everyone else filed out of the temple for the dining hall.
‘Have you had an accident, Rowena?’
‘Yes,’ said Robin. It hurt to talk; the pain from her jaw radiated up into her temple. ‘I slipped and fell.’
‘Where did that happen?’
‘In the Retreat Room.’
‘Who were you in the Retreat Room with?’ demanded Becca.
‘Will Edensor,’ said Robin.
‘Did Will suggest spirit bonding, or did you?’
‘I did,’ said Robin, because she knew laundry workers had witnessed her approaching Will.
‘I see,’ said Becca. Before she could ask anything else, a figure appeared silhouetted in the temple doorway and Robin, her heart rate now tripling, saw Jonathan Wace in his silk pyjamas. The subtle spotlights in the temple ceiling illuminated him as he walked towards them, smiling.
‘I thank you for your service, Becca,’ he said, pressing his hands together and bowing.
‘And I for yours,’ said Becca, now wearing a transported smile as she, too, bowed.
‘Good evening, Artemis the chaste… but what’s happened here?’ said Wace, placing a finger underneath Robin’s chin and tilting it to the light. ‘Have you had an accident?’
With no more idea whether he was playing a game with her than she’d had in the farmhouse, Robin said through clenched teeth,
‘Yes. I slipped over.’
‘In the Retreat Room,’ said Becca, whose smile had vanished at the words ‘Artemis the chaste’.
‘Really?’ said Wace, running his finger lightly over the bruised swelling. ‘Well, this represents a turning point, doesn’t it, Artemis? And who did you choose to bond with?’
‘Will Edensor,’ said Becca, before Robin could answer.
‘Goodness,’ said Wace quietly. ‘That’s an interesting choice, after what I told you about him during our last encounter.’
Robin wasn’t sure she could have spoken, even if she’d wanted to. Her mouth had become very dry again, and Wace was still tilting her face backwards, which was causing her pain.
‘Well, run along to dinner,’ said Wace, releasing her after another searching look. ‘I’ve got things to discuss with Becca.’
Robin forced herself to say, ‘Thank you.’
‘Thank you,
‘Thank you, Papa J,’ mumbled Robin.
She walked away as fast as she could. On reaching the temple steps she saw two of her usual escorts waiting for her, so was forced to walk with them to the dining hall.
