The Running Grave полностью

‘And then we were asked whether we were ready to reborn. And people walked forwards one by one and got into the trough, went under the water and were pulled out again, and everyone was clapping and cheering, and Papa J hugged them, and they went to stand beside the wall with the other members.

‘I was shitting myself,’ said Henry. ‘I can’t even explain – it was, like, the pressure to join, and to have all these people approve of you, was really intense, and everyone was watching, and I didn’t know what was going to happen if I said no.

‘And then they called Flora forwards, and she just walked straight to the trough, got in, went under, was pulled out and she went to stand against the wall, beaming.

‘And I swear, I didn’t know if I was going to have the strength to say no, but thank God there was this girl ahead of me, a black girl with a tattoo of the Buddha on the back of her neck, and I’ve never forgotten her, because if she hadn’t been there… so, they called her name, and she said, “No, I don’t want to join.” Like, really loud and clear. And the atmosphere just turned to ice. Everyone was, like, glaring at her. And Papa J was the only one who was still smiling, and he gave her this whole spiel about how he knew the material world had a strong allure, and basically, he was implying she wanted to go and work for Big Oil or something, instead of saving the world. But she didn’t budge, even though she got kind of tearful.

‘And then they called my name, and I said, “I don’t want to join, either.” And I saw Flora’s face. It was like I’d slapped her.

‘Then they called the last two people forwards, and they both joined.

‘Then, while everyone’s cheering and clapping all the new members, Mazu came up to me and the girl who’d said no and said, “You two come with me,” and I said, “I want to speak to Flora first, I came with her,” and Mazu said, “She doesn’t want to talk to you.” Flora was already being led off with all the members. She didn’t even look back.

‘Mazu took us back to the farmhouse and said, “The minibus won’t be leaving until tomorrow, so you’ll have to stay here in the meantime,” and she showed us this little room with no beds, and bars over the window. And I said, “I came in a car,” and I said to the girl, “D’you want a lift back to London?” and she agreed, so we went…

‘Sorry, I really need another drink,’ said Henry weakly.

‘It’s on me,’ said Strike, getting to his feet.

When he’d returned to the table with a fresh gin and tonic for Henry, he found the younger man wiping the lenses of his glasses with his silk tie, looking shaken.

‘Thanks,’ he said, putting his glasses back on, accepting the glass and taking a large swig. ‘God, just talking about it… and I was only there a week.’

Strike, who’d made extensive notes on everything Henry had just said, now flipped back a couple of pages.

‘This pregnant woman who collapsed – you never saw her again?’

‘No,’ said Henry.

‘What did she look like?’ asked Strike, picking up his pen again.

‘Er… blonde, glasses… I can’t really remember.’

‘Did you ever see violence used against anyone at Chapman Farm?’

‘No,’ said Henry, ‘but Flora definitely did. She told me, when she got out.’

‘Which was when?’

‘Five years later. I heard she was home, and I called her. We met up for a drink, and I was really shocked at how she looked. She was so thin. She looked really ill. And she wasn’t right. In the head.’

‘In what way?’

‘God, just in – in every way. She’d talk kind of normally for a bit, then she’d start laughing at nothing. Like, this really artificial laugh. Then she’d try and stop, and she said to me “That’s me putting on my happy face”, and – I don’t know if it was something they were forced to do, like, laugh if they felt sad or whatever, but it was fucking freaky. And she kept chanting. It was like she had no control over herself.

‘I asked her why she’d left and she told me bad things had gone down, but she didn’t want to talk about them, but after she’d had two drinks she, like, started spilling all this stuff. She said she’d been flogged, with a belt, and she told me about the sex stuff, like, she had to sleep with whoever they told her to, and she kept laughing and trying to stop herself – it was horrible, seeing her like that. And after a third drink,’ said Henry, dropping his voice, ‘she said she’d seen the Drowned Prophet kill somebody.’

Strike looked up from his notebook.

‘But she wouldn’t say – like, she didn’t give me details,’ said Henry quickly. ‘It might’ve been something she – not imagined, but – I mean, she wasn’t right. She was fucking terrified after she’d said it, though. She was drunk,’ said Henry, ‘she’d got rat-arsed on three drinks. She hadn’t had alcohol for five years, so obviously…’

‘Didn’t she tell you who’d been killed?’