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‘’E’s marked.’
‘He’s what?’
‘Marked,’ whispered Shawna, ‘boi the devil.’
‘How can you tell someone’s been marked by the devil?’ asked Robin.
‘Papa J can always tell. There’s marked people everywhere. Their souls aren’ normal. Some of ’em are in governments, so we gotta weed ’em out.’
‘What d’you mean, “weed them out”?’
‘Get rid of ’em,’ said Shawna, with a shrug.
‘How?’
‘’Owever we ’ave to, because thass one of the ways we’ll git the Lotus Way farster. You know what the Lotus Way is, roight?’
Robin started saying that the Lotus Way was a term for the earthly paradise that would descend once the UHC won its battle against the materialist world, and which would segue smoothly into the afterlife, but Shawna interrupted.
‘Thar she goes. BP, look.’
Becca Pirbright was crossing the yard ahead of them, her glossy hair shining in the sun. Robin had already overheard mutterings about Becca from the farmhands and kitchen workers. The consensus was that Becca was too young to have ascended so rapidly in the church, and had a very inflated opinion of herself.
‘Know why we all call ’er “BP”?’
‘Because her initials are the same as a bubble person?’ Robin guessed.
‘Yeah,’ said Shawna, who seemed disappointed Robin had got the joke. ‘Gawn,’ she muttered scornfully, as Becca kneeled quickly at the fountain of the Drowned Prophet. ‘She’s always showin’ off about ’ow she and Daiyu were mates, but she’s lying. Sita told me. Yew know Sita?’
‘Yes,’ said Robin. She’d met the elderly Sita during her last session in the kitchens.
‘She says BP an’ Daiyu never loiked each other. Sita can remember all of that, what ’appened.’
‘About Daiyu’s drowning, you mean?’ asked Robin, watching Becca disappear into the temple.
‘Yeah, an’ all the miracles BP says she saw ’er doin’. Sita dunt reckon BP saw all what she says she did. And Emily’s BP’s sister.’
‘Yes, I—’
‘We think that’s why Papa J won’t increase with BP, like she wants.’
‘He won’t what?’ said Robin innocently.
‘Increase with her,’ said Shawna, as they stopped at Daiyu’s pool to kneel and dab their foreheads with water. ‘The Drowned Prophet will bless all ’oo worship ’er. Yew don’t know nuffing, do yew?’ said Shawna, standing up again. ‘Increase means ’ave a baby! Oi’ve ’ad two in ’ere,’ said Shawna proudly.
‘Two?’ said Robin.
‘Yeah, one right after I got ’ere, an’ ’e went to Birmingham, an’ one that’s spirit born, so she’s gonna be better than the firs’ one. We all know BP wants to increase by Papa J, but ’e won’t. She’s got a disruptive sister and there’s Jacob too.’
Thoroughly confused, Robin said,
‘What’s Jacob got to do with it?’
‘Yew don’t know nuffing, do yew?’ said Shawna again, chuckling.
They passed under the archway to the area where the children’s dormitory and classrooms were and entered a door numbered one.
The classroom was a ramshackle, shabby space with children’s pictures pinned haphazardly on the walls. Twenty small children in scarlet tracksuits were already sitting at the tables, their ages, Robin guessed, between two and five. She was surprised that there weren’t more of them, given that there were a hundred people at the farm having unprotected sex, but was primarily struck by their strange passivity. Their eyes wandered, their faces blank, and very few were fidgeting, the exception being little Qing, who was currently crouched under her desk pressing blobs of plasticine onto the floor, her mop of white hair contrasting with the rest of the class’s buzz cuts.
