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‘I just know.’
‘Will,’ said Robin, ‘your mother’s dead. She died in January.’
Will froze. Outside, the lawnmower whined as Amandeep cut the power. Evidently he was counting down their twenty minutes. After what felt like a very long pause, Will said quietly,
‘You’re lying.’
‘I really wish I was,’ whispered Robin, ‘but I’m n—’
A rush of wild movement, the thump of bare feet of wood: Robin flung up her arms too late, and Will’s punch hit her squarely on the side of her face and with a scream of pain and shock she fell sideways, hitting the wall before landing hard on the floor.
Through a haze of pain she heard the glass door slide open and the curtains being tugged back.
‘What happened?’ said Amandeep.
Will said something Robin didn’t catch through the ringing in her ears. Her panic was nothing compared to the sharp, pulsing pain in her jaw, which was such that she wondered if it was fractured.
Hands hoisted her roughly up onto the bed.
‘… tripped?’
‘Yeah, and hit her face on the wall. Didn’t you?’ Will barked at Robin.
‘Yes,’ she said, unable to tell whether she was speaking too loudly. Black spots were popping in front of her eyes.
‘Had you finished?’ asked Amandeep.
‘Yeah, of course. Why d’you think she’s dressed?’
‘Where were you both, before bonding?’
‘Laundry,’ said Will.
‘I’ll go back now,’ said Robin.
She got shakily to her feet, careful not to look at Will. She’d run for it the second she could: off to the five-bar gate and across the field to the perimeter.
‘I’ll take you both back to the laundry,’ said Amandeep.
Robin’s head was swimming with pain and panic. She massaged her jaw, which she could feel swelling rapidly.
‘We can go on our own,’ she said.
‘No,’ said Amandeep, taking a firm hold of Robin’s wrist. ‘You’ve both been judged to need more spiritual support.’
77
Six at the top…
Bound with cords and ropes,
Shut in between thorn-hedged prison walls…
Misfortune.
The I Ching or Book of Changes
After a further three hours in the laundry, during which nobody commented on her increasingly swollen face, Robin was escorted to temple for a meditation session led by Becca. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Will peel away from the rest of the group and march towards the farmhouse, omitting even to kneel at Daiyu’s fountain. Panic-stricken, Robin knelt obediently on the hard temple floor, her lips forming the words of the chant, her mind fixed solely on escape. Perhaps, she thought, she could slip away into some shadowy recess of the temple at the end of the session, lurk until the others had left, then make a break for the blind spot at the perimeter. She’d run across country, find a call box – anything but spend another night at Chapman Farm.
