‘Alice?’ Mrs Holloway marches into the scullery. She looks me up and down and frowns with annoyance. ‘What are you doing?’ she barks. ‘Why are you dressed like that? And why are you not with Our Beloved?’
Before I can think of an answer, she grabs me by the wrist and pulls me out of the scullery. I glance desperately to Beth. She quickly puts her finger to her lips and then mouths, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll come for you later.’
Then I am being dragged away, out of the cottage, across the lawns and through the doors of the mansion. Mrs Holloway stops outside the red room and releases my wrist from her grip. She folds her arms across her washboard bosom and nods towards the door of the red room. She is leaving nothing to chance, and although every part of me has turned as cold and as stiff as the skin of a plucked goose, I am forced to lift my hand and knock on the heavily varnished wood.
‘Come,’ says his voice from inside.
I swallow hard and open the door.
‘Alice,’ he says as I walk into the room. ‘Where were you? I sent for you, but you could not be found.’
‘I am sorry,’ I manage to say. My tongue is thick in my mouth. ‘I … I was unwell. I came as soon as I could.’
‘Unwell, you say? We cannot have that, can we?’ He comes to me and catches my chin in his hand. He lifts my face and the blood drains to my feet as I look into his eyes. ‘You are a bride of the Lord,’ he says. ‘And as such you do not suffer from sickness or grief. Are you sure it was not all in your mind?’
My heart smashes noisily against my ribs and I am terrified he will hear it. ‘It … it may have been in my mind,’ I stammer. ‘I had a restless night.’ I lower my eyes then, so he will not see the flash of hatred in them. ‘But I am better now,’ I finish.
‘Good,’ he says. He slides his hand from my chin and lets his fingertips travel down my neck and over my bosom. My skin shrinks from his touch, as though a spider has crawled into my bodice. I shudder.
‘Do you write well?’ he asks me suddenly, removing his hand.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I … I believe that I do.’
‘Excellent!’ He rubs his hands together. ‘I am publishing my sermons and I should like you to copy them out for me.’ He sits me at his desk with a pile of notes and a sheaf of fresh paper, then he settles himself in a chair by the fire and lights a cigar. ‘I shall inspect your work in a while,’ he says, ‘when the clock strikes one. And I hope you will absorb my teachings as you write.’
I pick up the pen that is lying on the desk and dip it into the pot of ink. My hand is trembling and a drop of black ink falls onto the centre of a clean page. I stare down at the splash. It looks like the sun with its rays spread out around it. I remember seeing my future before in a stain of ink and blood and I am glad it is the sun I see now, at least, and not a dark cloud or a page of tears.
I begin to write, copying Our Beloved’s words in neat lines across the paper. They are just words though, and I do not join them in my mind into sentences. I slide my eyes over to where he is sitting, his head in a cloud of cigar smoke and his nose in a book. I keep glancing at him, searching for a halo or a glow of goodness; looking for a sign that he is God made flesh. Looking for something that will make sense of what he did to me. Beth said he is not God. But that is a truth too terrible for me to contemplate.
I look at him again, willing myself to see something divine, to see something heavenly, to see anything. But I see nothing except a beast of a man bent over a book with the stain of tobacco on his fingers.
The clock strikes one. He rises from his chair and yawns. ‘Let me see,’ he says. He gathers my work in his hands and flicks through the pages. ‘You have done well,’ he says. ‘But tomorrow, I am sure you will manage a few pages more. Go now and ready yourself for chapel.’ His eyes flick over my old frock. ‘And perhaps something more suitable for the bride of the Lord.’
My hand aches from the hours of writing and I am desperately in need of air that isn’t fouled by the stink of tobacco. I slip out of the mansion, thinking I will find somewhere quiet where I can be on my own and calm the storm that is raging inside me. I have only just stepped onto the lawns, when Beth comes running up to me. ‘Alice,’ she hisses. She grabs my arm and pulls me into the gazebo. ‘Have you thought about what I told you?’
‘I have thought of nothing else,’ I tell her.
Her face lights up. ‘Then you will come with me?’ She grabs my hands and squeezes them hard.
I nod, although my belly is flipping over and over like a butter churn. ‘I … I don’t know where I should go, though,’ I say. ‘I don’t know anything any more.’
Beth drops my hands and frowns. ‘Yes you do,’ she says. ‘You know the most important thing of all now. You know the truth. You do, don’t you, Alice?’
‘I wish I didn’t,’ I whisper.
She laughs bitterly. ‘Do you want to be like the rest of them? Do you want to be blind and stupid? Do you want to believe that what he did to you on the altar was in the name of God?’
I shake my head, and the dreadful memory of it all causes my throat to tighten so that for a moment I cannot speak.
Beth grabs my hands again. ‘It will be all right, Alice,’ she says. ‘I promise. You have a home to go back to. And I will look after you until then.’
She looks at me intently, her face trembling with determination. Suddenly, I am so full of love for her, that I pull my hands from hers and fling my arms around her neck. ‘Thank you, Beth,’ I breathe. ‘Thank you.’
She pulls me away quickly and leans her head in close to mine. ‘We will go now, Alice,’ she whispers. ‘While they are all at chapel. We shall walk straight out of those gates and by the time anyone misses us, we will be miles away. We can do this, Alice. You know we can.’
I nod. She is right. Why should we waste another minute in here? And I know I could not bear him near me ever again.
‘Meet me by the gates as soon as the chapel bells start to ring,’ Beth whispers. ‘Fetch whatever you want to bring with you. But be quick. We don’t have much time.’ She strides off across the lawns. Then she stops halfway and turns back to me. ‘I am leaving here, Alice,’ she says. ‘I shan’t change my mind this time. So hurry. Because I won’t wait.’
I watch her walk away and I turn cold. I am as scared as I have ever been. I don’t know where we go or what we will do, but I am glad that Beth has the courage for us both, because I know I could never do this on my own.
There is a sharp cough from behind me. I turn quickly and my heart sinks when I see Mrs Holloway standing outside the mansion. She beckons me over. ‘You will be late for chapel if you do not hurry,’ she snaps. ‘You will be changing into a fresh gown, I presume?’
She follows me back to my chamber, so closely I can feel her breath on the back of my neck and her lavender scent catches in the back of my throat. ‘Thank you,’ I say to her. ‘I will be down in a moment.’ I leave her outside the room and I lean against the closed door and take a deep breath. My legs are shaking, but I know I must move. I will need a spare dress, a warm shawl. I run to the wardrobe and rifle through the contents. Then I see it. A lemon gown made of silk and muslin and lace. I recognise it at once. It is Glory’s. It is the gown she was wearing on the day I arrived. I slam the wardrobe door shut. This was her chamber. This was her bed. These were her clothes.
The thought of it fills me with horror.
The chapel bells start to ring. My heart jumps. Beth will be hiding now, by the gates, waiting for me. I look out of the chamber window and I see the women of the Parlour and all the others, trotting like sheep across the lawns and along the pathways to meet their shepherd. Then I see him. My heart quickens and I grip on to the windowsill as I watch him walk up the pathway to the chapel. It is as though I am seeing him for the first time. Only now he makes my bones shudder. There is something about the way the clouds seem to darken as he moves towards his flock that suddenly makes me turn from the window and look frantically around the room for the carpet bag. My gold locket is still inside it, hidden in the folds of my mourning gown. And I can’t leave here without it.
It is now or never. I can’t begin to imagine where I will go or what I will do. I only know I have to get away.
I have to meet Beth.
I see the carpet bag lying at the foot of the bed, but before I can get to it, the chamber door opens.
‘You are not ready.’ Mrs Holloway’s accusing voice hits me hard in the stomach.
‘I … I won’t be much longer,’ I stammer. ‘I will be down in a moment.’
‘Then I shall wait for you, if you don’t mind,’ she says.
Panic floods through me. ‘There’s no need,’ I say. I rush back to the wardrobe and pull out the first gown my hand touches. It is Glory’s lemon gown. But I don’t care, I just have to get rid of Mrs Holloway. I look at her pointedly. ‘I should like to get dressed in private, please.’
‘Very well,’ she huffs, ‘but hurry.’ And to my relief, she leaves the room.
I dress quickly, trying to forget I am wearing a dead woman’s gown, then I run to the carpet bag and rummage inside until my hand brushes against my gold locket. Wait for me, Beth, I chant under my breath. Please, wait for me. But before I can wrap my fist around the locket, the chamber door opens again and as I smell the first dangerous whiff of Mrs Holloway’s lavender, my heart plummets.
With Mrs Holloway following close on my heels, it takes all of my strength to walk back into the chapel. It takes all of my willpower not to look at the altar as I walk past it to stand by his side. I look out at all the faces. They are shining with adoration and they are singing with joy. Every one of them believes in him. Every one of them has chosen to follow him. I don’t understand any more. Not now, when the very air that he breathes sickens me to the stomach.
Then, as if he knows I am fighting with demons, he reaches out to take my hand. My skin crawls as the damp of his flesh sticks to mine. Then I notice the empty chair at the back of the chapel and I know at once that Beth has gone without me.
‘Sing!’ he commands me. ‘Sing, little lamb!’
But I can’t. My throat has closed up so tight that I am afraid if I open my mouth the only sound that will come out will be a loud and terrible scream.