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‘And I for yours,’ chorused the seated church members, also bowing.
A young man then started handing out pens and paper, which was a most unusual occurrence. These basic means of self-expression were ruthlessly controlled at Chapman Farm, even down to the pencils tied firmly to the journals. The pens were numbered, as they’d been on the minibus.
‘This afternoon, you’ll be taking an important step in freeing yourselves from materialist possession,’ said Becca. ‘Most of you will have somebody back in the materialist world who’ll be expecting communication from you at this time.’
The screen behind Becca now lit up, showing printed words.
Key Components of Materialist Possession.
• Assumed ownership based on biology.
• Abuse (physical, emotional, spiritual).
• Anger at actions/beliefs that challenge materialism.
• Attempts to disrupt spiritual development.
• Coercion disguised as concern.
• Demand for emotional service/labour.
• Desire to direct your life’s course.
‘I want each of you now to think of the person or people who most strongly demonstrate the seven key signs of materialist possession towards you. A good measure is to ask yourself who’ll be angriest that you’ve dedicated yourself to the Universal Humanitarian Church.
‘Vivienne,’ said Becca, pointing at the girl with the spiky black hair, who always determinedly tried to sound less middle class than she really was. ‘Who demonstrates the key signs most strongly in your life?’
‘My muvver and stepfather, definitely,’ said Vivienne at once. ‘All seven points.’
‘Walter?’ said Becca, pointing at him.
‘My son,’ said Walter promptly. ‘Most of those points would apply. My daughter would be far more understanding.’
‘Marion?’ said Becca, pointing to the ginger-haired middle-aged woman who always became pink and breathless at the mere mention of Jonathan Wace, and whose roots were slowly turning silver.
‘I suppose… my daughters,’ said Marion.
‘Materialist bonds are hard to sever,’ said Becca, now walking up and down on stage in her long orange robes and wearing her tight, cold smile, ‘but they’re the ties that bind you closest to the bubble world. It’s impossible to become pure spirit until you’ve dissolved these connections and rid yourself of the cravings of the false self.’
The image on the screen behind Becca changed to show a scribbled letter. All names had been blacked out.
‘This is an example of a case of extreme materialist possession, which was sent to one of our members by a supposedly loving family member, a few years ago.’
There was silence in the room as the group read the words onscreen.
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
We got your letter the same day. ¦¦¦¦¦¦ was admitted to hospital with a massive stroke, brought on by the stress she’s been under following ¦¦¦¦¦¦’s death, and by totally avoidable worry about you. Given the important work you’re doing saving the world from Satan, you probably don’t give a shit whether ¦¦¦¦¦¦ lives or dies, but I thought I’d just let you know the consequences of your actions. As for screwing any more money out of ¦¦¦¦¦¦, unfortunately for you I’ve now got Power of Attorney, so consider this letter an invitation for you and the UHC to go fuck yourselves.
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
‘It’s all in there, isn’t it?’ said Becca, looking up at the screen. ‘Emotional blackmail, materialist obsession with money, sneering at our mission, but most importantly, duplicity. The elderly family member in question hadn’t suffered a stroke at all and the writer of the letter was found to be embezzling money out of their account.’
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.
