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Get on with it, Robin thought wearily, as Taio continued to talk. Ryan had stayed over the previous evening, and after sex there’d been a lot of talk, primarily about the risks of going undercover. Robin was neither ignorant nor arrogant enough to think she stood in no need of advice, but her last thought before falling asleep was, thank God I didn’t tell you about the spirit bonding.
At long last, Taio Wace wound up his talk. The applause, while respectable, wasn’t as enthusiastic as it had been for either his father or Becca Pirbright. The temple lights brightened, and David Bowie began to sing again. Robin was deliberately slow to rise from her seat, fumbling over her Gucci handbag, hoping the blonde attendant was going to approach her again. Giles Harmon passed, nodding grandly to the left and right. His taller companion remained near the stage, the centre of a knot of people.
Robin lingered in the aisle, smiling vaguely, looking up at the Prophets painted on the ceiling as though it was the first time she’d seen them. She was almost directly beneath the Drowned Prophet in her white robes, with her malevolent black eyes, when a familiar voice said,
‘Rowena?’
‘Hi!’ said Robin. The blonde who’d previously approached her had appeared, beaming as before and holding a pile of pamphlets that were thicker than those that usually lay on the shelves on the backs of the pews. ‘It’s so great you’re here again!’
‘I know,’ said Robin, smiling back, ‘I don’t seem to be able to stay away, do I?’
As the blonde laughed, Robin became aware of someone standing immediately behind her. Turning, she found herself almost eye to eye with Taio Wace, and experienced a spasm of dislike. She couldn’t remember ever having felt such a strong, immediate antipathy to a man, and it took every ounce of her self-discipline to smile back at him, wide-eyed and friendly, and say,
‘That was so inspiring. Your talk, I mean. I really loved it.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, smiling complacently as he placed a hand lightly on her back. ‘Very glad you enjoyed it.’
‘This is Rowena, Taio,’ said the blonde. ‘I feel like she’s—’
‘Very much a Receptive,’ said Taio Wace, his hand still resting lightly on Robin’s bra strap. ‘Yes, that’s obvious.’
Robin felt a strong impulse to hit his arm away, but stood her ground, smiling.
‘Would you be interested in coming to one of our retreats?’ Taio asked.
‘That’s exactly what I was going to say!’ said the blonde, beaming.
‘What would that involve?’ said Robin, every nerve protesting against the continuing pressure of Taio Wace’s hand on her back.
‘A week of your time,’ he said, gazing into her eyes. ‘At Chapman Farm. To explore things a little more deeply.’
‘Oh, wow,’ said Robin, ‘that sounds interesting…’
‘I think you’d find it very stimulating,’ said Taio.
‘It’s really great,’ the blonde assured Robin. ‘Just to be with nature, and explore ideas and meditate…’
‘Wow,’ said Robin, again.
‘Could you get time off work?’ asked Taio, his hand still on Robin’s back.
‘I’m actually kind of between jobs at the moment,’ said Robin.
‘Perfect timing!’ trilled the blonde.
‘When would this be?’ asked Robin.
‘We’ve got a minibus leaving from outside Victoria Station at 10 a.m. next Friday,’ said the blonde. ‘We’ve actually got three groups coming to Chapman Farm that day. Here…’
She offered Robin one of the pamphlets in her hands.
‘That’s all the information you’ll need, what to bring…’
‘Thanks so much,’ said Robin, smiling. ‘Yes, I’d love to come!’
Taio Wace’s slid his hand down to the small of Robin’s back before breaking contact.
‘We’ll see you on Friday, then,’ he said, and moved away.
