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‘Only because I’ve seen statues of her with a bow and arrow,’ said Robin, who was pressing her hands between her knees to stop them shaking. ‘I don’t really know much else about her.’
The door opened and Shawna reappeared with everything Wace had asked for. She laid out a plate, knife, fork and glass in front of Robin, bowed again to Wace, beaming, and disappeared, closing the door behind her.
‘Eat,’ Wace ordered Robin, filling her water glass himself. ‘There are many contradictions in Artemis, as in so many human representations of the divine. She’s a huntress, but also protector of the hunted, of girls up to marriageable age, the goddess of childbirth and… strangely… of chastity.’
He glanced at her before turning his attention back to his food. Robin took a gulp of water, trying to ease the dryness of her mouth.
‘Personally,’ Wace continued, ‘I don’t disdain the teachings of those whom conventional religious people would see as pagans. I don’t believe the Christian conception of God is any more valid than the ancient Greeks’. All subjective attempts to draw a complete picture of the Blessed Divinity are necessarily partial and flawed.’
Except yours, thought Robin. She’d served herself ragout and polenta, and now took a mouthful. It was one of the best things she’d ever eaten, or perhaps it was simply that she’d been deprived of real food for so long.
‘And you’ve been generous to the church, Artemis,’ said Wace. ‘A thousand pounds! Thank you,’ he said, making his familiar expression of humility and gratitude, as he pressed one hand to his heart.
‘I should have made that sooner,’ said Robin.
‘Why d’you say that?’ Wace asked, eyebrows raised.
‘Because I know other people donated before me. I should have—’
‘There is no “should have”,’ said Wace. ‘All that counts is what is done. The journey to pure spirit is essentially a process of becoming ever more active. Prayer, meditation, study: these are actions. Regret is inactive and useful only in so far as it propels us onwards, to more action. So, all of this is very good, but,’ said Wace, his smile now fading, ‘your journal is… a little disappointing.’
Robin’s heart beat faster. When it came to her journal, she’d taken a line from what Niamh Doherty had told her: one thing enjoyed, one thing learned, every day.
‘No questions,’ said Wace. ‘No doubts. Certainly no indication of Rowena’s inner life.’
‘I was trying not to show egomotivity,’ said Robin.
Wace let out a bark of laughter that made her jump.
‘That’s exactly what I expected you to say, Artemis.’
Robin disliked the repetition of the new nickname. She knew it was meant both to flatter and destabilise her.
‘And I hear you’re the same way in doctrinal lectures. You never seek discussion or clarification. You’re studious, but silent. No curiosity.’
‘I thought—’
‘—that would show egomotivity? Not at all. It’s a maxim of mine that I’d rather face an honest sceptic than a hundred who believe they know God but are really in thrall to their own piety. But it interests me, this lack of curiosity and argument, because you’re not a submissive, are you? Not really. You’ve shown that repeatedly.’
As Robin struggled for an answer, she heard movement outside the room, a scuffling and then the sound of Lin’s voice.
‘I d-d-don’t want to g-g-go – no! N-n-n-no!’
‘Music,’ said Wace, setting down his knife and fork with a clatter, getting to his feet and moving calmly to a discreet panel on the wall. With the press of a button, classical music filled the room. Robin heard the front doors of the farmhouse slam. She had time to remember that Lin was almost certainly Wace’s own daughter before he moved back to the sofa and said, as though nothing had happened,
‘So I’m puzzled by you, Artemis. On the one hand, passivity, unquestioning obedience, an uncomplaining work ethic, a journal that asks no questions, a large donation to the church.
‘But on the other hand, a strong and dynamic individuality. Outside of doctrinal seminars, you challenge authority and resist deeper engagement with the church’s precepts. You demonstrate a strong materialist adherence to the importance of the body, over the requirements of the spirit. Why these contradictions, Artemis?’
Robin, who felt slightly stronger for the ingestion of food and water, said,
‘I’m trying to learn and change. I was argumentative before I joined the church. That’s why my fiancé broke up with me. I suppose… my false self is still there, still clinging on.’
‘A very nice, neat, pat answer,’ said Wace, smiling again.
‘I’m trying to be honest,’ said Robin. She wondered whether crying would help convince Wace of her sincerity. It wouldn’t take much for the tears to flow, after the shocks of the last hour.
‘I hear,’ said Wace, ‘the only time you seemed to show any interest in challenging church doctrine was with young Will, up at the vegetable patch.’
