‘About what?’ asked Alastair.
‘The Latin,’ I said.
‘Suddenly I could speak Latin,’ said Alastair. ‘It was like something out of The Matrix. You know – I know Kung Fu – like that. I didn’t notice if I was using a hard c or not.’
‘You said you met three days in a row,’ said Guleed, a little impatiently. ‘What happened the next evening?’
‘We went and healed the sick,’ said Alastair.
12 Faith
They walked into a hospital and bestowed their blessings upon the sick.
‘And you saw them get better?’ asked Guleed.
‘We felt them get better,’ said Alastair. ‘We felt the Holy Spirit, the power of God’s love, flow through us and into the sick people. We must have saved the NHS millions that night.’
Although he couldn’t say which hospital they’d blessed with their presence.
‘Whichever is closest to Fallowfield,’ he said airily.
Another follow-up for Seawoll and Danni, I thought, and asked him about the third and final session.
‘Prophecy,’ said Alastair. ‘We saw the future.’
Both me and Guleed were actually struck dumb – which is not a good look in a pair of experienced police officers. Fortunately, Alastair was off with the fairies and so didn’t notice, and thus was the much-vaunted mystique of the Metropolitan Police preserved.
Guleed recovered first.
‘And what did you see?’
‘Jocasta said there would be floods and famines – which I thought at the time was just stating the obvious. But, what with global warming, I think she might have been on to something.’ Alastair shook his hand from side to side to show that he kept an open mind. ‘David spoke of war in the Middle East,’ he said. ‘And guess what happened in 1990? Right. I saw the dawning of a new age of understanding, but I’m an eternal optimist. Jessica said the towers would fall and they did, didn’t they?’
There was more of this, and I was disappointed because it was exactly the sort of vague prognostication that you get with your daily star sign. Unless Danni reported a rash of medical miracles dating from 1989, then I was seriously doubtful that Alastair and his prayer circle were talking anything but gibberish.
And yet … I was sure something had happened over those three days. I suspected it was some of that pre-Newtonian ritual magic that Postmartin was so keen on. He always claimed that it formed the kernel of human religious belief.
‘Why do all that chanting and fasting,’ he’d said, ‘if you don’t get something tangible out of it?’
I was yet to be convinced – people did stupid things for stupid reasons all the time, and also a lot of singing and dancing was enjoyable, especially in a group. I was willing to bet that Postmartin had been a romantic bookworm as a youth. Even when he was on active duty in Malaya.
‘What happened next?’ asked Guleed.
‘I went back to my digs and slept,’ said Alastair. ‘Alone, unfortunately.’
‘I meant,’ said Guleed, slowly, ‘what happened with the group?’
Alastair seemed surprised at the question.
‘We never met again,’ he said. ‘Preston cancelled the next meeting, and the next, and kept cancelling, until one day he wasn’t there any more. Jocasta went all exam-mad and Jackie caught feminism and became a lesbian or something.’
‘What about the others?’ asked Guleed.
‘We never saw Preston again,’ he said, ‘and, to be honest, I don’t remember what happened to the rest.’
He remembered the women but not the men. At least he’s consistent.
‘You didn’t think that was odd?’ asked Guleed.
‘You lose touch with people,’ said Alastair. ‘You move on.’
‘No,’ said Guleed. ‘You were speaking in tongues and healing the sick. You said the Holy Spirit filled you up and brought you closer to God.’ She leant forwards, fixing Alastair with her eyes. ‘If I had been taken closer to God I wouldn’t have just wandered off afterwards.’
‘I think we all had the impression that that was our lot,’ said Alastair. ‘We had been given our gifts and now we had to go out and do good works. Also, it was …’ He hesitated, and he winced as if remembering pain. ‘Terrifying,’ he said, and nodded to himself. ‘Getting that close to God. Best not to be greedy.’
‘So a close encounter with God,’ I said. ‘And then back to lectures the next day?’
‘It did change me,’ he said with some emphasis. ‘I was a more serious person after that. If God puts his hand upon your shoulder it leaves a lasting impression. And I have been blessed in my life. I have to assume it’s for a reason.’
‘Blessed in what way?’ I ask.
‘In little ways that add up,’ said Alastair.
His first newspaper job, for example, after he’d graduated with a semi-respectable 2:1. An old school chum who had gone to Oxford called him out of the blue and asked if he could write a piece about life up North.
‘Because you were at Manchester?’ I asked.
‘That,’ said Alastair. ‘And I grew up in Harrogate.’
One article led to another. His friend brought him on as a guest editor and networking did the rest.
‘And you think that was down to God?’ I asked.
‘Either you believe God organises the universe or you don’t,’ said Alastair. ‘And I met my wife when I moved to London.’ The smile faded and he looked away. ‘That was another blessing.’
I was more inclined to put it down to him being a posh boy with posh friends, the right accent and the right attitude. Still, I’ve been having my suspicions about the more subtle influence of the supernatural ever since my dad gave up heroin and cigarettes overnight. Just after I’d done Mama Thames a solid.
And that led me back to ritual magic and, of course, the rings.
‘Do you still have the ring?’ I asked.
‘I lost it,’ said Alastair, without looking back at us.
We waited, but he didn’t elaborate – lost in some other memory.
I glanced at Guleed.
‘Can you remember when and where you lost it?’ she asked, and Alastair immediately turned back to look at her.
‘I think at Davos,’ he said. ‘At least I wasn’t wearing it when I went through security at the airport. It always set off the metal detector, so I always automatically slipped it off and put it in the tray with my keys and wallet. When I got to security, I went to remove it and found it was missing.’ He mimed taking the ring off. His little finger, I noticed. ‘I assumed that I’d left it in my bag and went through. Getting on the plane was a scramble – it always is when it’s filled with hacks – and I didn’t think to check until I got home.’
‘So you usually wore it?’ I asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Even when you were asleep?’
‘I always wore it,’ he said. ‘As a sign of God’s favour. Also, if you don’t take it off you can’t lose it.’
‘Except you lost it,’ said Guleed.
‘Yeah,’ said Alastair.
Something about the confusion on his face reminded me of Althea Moore when we’d asked her about losing her own ring.
‘Did you have companionship on the last night?’ I asked.
‘What?’ said Alastair. ‘Did I get laid? Definitely.’
‘Was it Helga the impossibly blonde Swede?’
‘As it happens,’ said Alastair. ‘You don’t think …?’
‘Do you remember the sex?’
‘What?’
‘Do you remember having sex – the positions, who did what to who?’
‘I’m not …’ started Alastair and then stopped, a look of horror on his face.