She looked at him, frowning.
‘Yes. Yes, it does make sense.’
‘Take Marcus and Abby. You should use them as a model. I know that they have had their troubles, but there is something indestructible at the heart of that marriage. They’ll be able to face anything together, because that union is so extraordinarily strong. I see Marcus looking at Abby sometimes and the love in his eyes is frightening.’
He lifted his hand from her lap and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
‘You are such a beautiful, intelligent girl, Lee. You don’t need to be doing this, to be giving yourself away so easily. You will make somebody a wonderful wife one day. In the meantime you must just try to control yourself. You know that I think wine is a wonderful thing, one of God’s great gifts. But all of you drink too much, and it’s much harder to keep your passions in check when you’re drunk.’
He drew his hand up, across her cheek, brushing the strands of hair away from her mouth and tucking them behind her ear.
‘I will try, David, I really will. I want you to be proud of me. Sometimes, though, it feels like it takes everything I have just to get through the day. Like I’m leaning against a door, trying to keep it shut, trying to stop something terribly frightening from coming out. It’s why I’m always so tired.’
‘And what’s behind this door?’
‘I don’t know. I just know that it’s dark and horrible and scares me. I start to panic just thinking about it.’
‘You must fight against it. The Course will be there for you when you come out the other side of this phase you’re going through. But if you backslide too far, if you let the Devil come too close to you, it may be that you are too distant for even the Course to reach you. If you become known as a slut, Lee, I might have to ask you to leave. For the good of the Course.’ These last words were like glass pressed into her skin, each word pearled blood on her pale skin. Tears began to run down her cheeks and David’s voice became softer.
‘I understand what you’ve been going through. And I don’t want to turn away from you — you’re a key member of our community. I’m just trying to warn you. You know I see myself as a father to you lot. The four of you need to stick together. There’s something about you guys that is quite astonishing. On stage, obviously, but also when you move around the church, when you speak to Course members. I don’t want to lose that. It’s why I wanted to speak to you now, before things get any worse. Have a think about what I’ve said. Come and see me any time if you’d like to chat.’
He rose and placed his hand on her hair. Lee bowed her head, feeling the joyful shiver of forgiveness. When the echoes of his footsteps had disappeared from the church above, she made her way upstairs, put on her coat, pulled her hat down so that it nearly covered her eyes, and walked out into the damp night.
Mouse had saved her a seat next to him in the pub. Philip was watching from the corner as Lee moved her chair closer towards Mouse, linked her arm through his, and whispered in his ear that she loved him. He blushed and smiled. When they had finished their drinks, they made their way out into the damp night. Philip grabbed her shoulder as Mouse scampered ahead to hail a taxi.
‘I wanted to talk to you,’ he said. I had a really good time with you the other night. But I got the feeling you were ignoring me this evening. Please tell me you aren’t upset with me.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Lee looked genuinely distraught. ‘I can be a bitch sometimes, I know I can. I really didn’t mean to hurt you.’
‘You didn’t hurt me, or rather you haven’t yet.’ Philip tried to laugh, his lips peeling back from his teeth. ‘Listen, could I get your number? I’d really like to see you again, just the two of us.’
She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. Her hat sat on the line of her brow and the rain collected in droplets on the cotton. Her lips were bloodless lines, unkissable.
‘No, Philip. I’m so sorry. You understand, don’t you? It’s just a really difficult time for me. I have to go. It’s wet and Mouse is waiting for me. I’m sorry, I really am.’
She ran, leaping over puddles, to where Mouse was standing, holding the door of a taxi. Looking out of the fogged back window, she saw Philip watching the cab move out of sight, the rain swirling around his tall frame. She took hold of Mouse’s hot, plump hand and squeezed it tightly.
Six
It rained every day for a week as the heat of September gave way to a bleak and wintry October. It was cold rain, the kind of rain that slants under umbrellas, soaks through the soles of shoes and explodes off paving stones. Marcus and Abby turned in on themselves, giving way to stillness and reflection. Two of the boys in their discussion group had left after the first week, though their girlfriends remained. Marcus had phoned the boys, emailed them, talked to their girlfriends, but to no avail. In the shadow of these departures, their second session had been a downbeat affair. Neil had spoken about his daughter, tears streaming down his face.
‘One of the reasons I find the idea of God so attractive, one of the reasons that I hope beyond hope that it’s all true, is so that I know that Phoebe isn’t just rotting there in her grave, that she’s somewhere she’ll be looked after by someone who really understands her. I listened to David’s speech tonight about sex and I thought — I didn’t even know if Phoebe was still a virgin, if she’d been hurt in love, if that was maybe why she became ill.’
Abby had crossed the room to embrace him. They’d only briefly touched on the topic of the evening’s talk. Marcus could tell that there was little risk of the prim girls in their group giving way to their baser passions. He could hear Mouse holding forth next door and envied his friend his fluency and his conviction.
They hadn’t stayed long at the pub afterwards, and when they got home Marcus made them Horlicks which they drank in bed, chatting with the duvet pulled up to their chins. They both guessed what had happened between Lee and Philip, and wondered whether they should mention it to David. If Philip left because of Lee, it would mean that they were three members down after the first two weeks. They didn’t blame her, though. They could see how fragile she was, how lost. Marcus reached over and stroked Abby’s soft, wide cheek. Since the miscarriage, Abby had insisted they sleep in the spare room and Marcus liked the change. There were no pictures on the walls; it was like a hotel room, quiet and anonymous. During the week they telephoned each other regularly, softened their voices and murmured until Marcus had to hang up because his boss was standing over him, or Abby saw Sally struggling with a pile of hymnals and rang off.
They made a nest of the apartment during the weekend. Marcus scuttled out to buy newspapers and small luxuries: croissants and wine. They held hands at church on Sunday morning. Abby sang more quietly than usual, leaning on the pew in front of her. She stayed at the altar rail for a few seconds after taking communion and Marcus waited beside her, watching her lips move silently. When they came back to their seats, she knelt again and prayed until the final hymn was sung. They left as soon as the service was over and spent the afternoon lying on the sofa with a duvet over them, watching sentimental old films.
Abby telephoned her mother that Sunday afternoon. She didn’t tell her exactly what had happened, and Abby’s mother pretended that she had misunderstood, rather than face the embarrassment of talking to her daughter about her feelings. Abby had two older sisters. All three of them had been star performers at the local grammar school, had shone at university. But Abby knew that her mother worried that the girls had inherited her own fatal flaw: they married badly. Abby’s parents had divorced when she was eleven. At the time she only read Jilly Cooper novels and found the drama and the heartache of the divorce rather glamorous. But she missed her father, who had subsequently married a small, thin woman in a direct reproach to Abby’s increasingly vast mother. Abby’s eldest sister had already been married twice, the first time for under a year. Susie, the middle child, was in a spectacularly loveless union with a maths teacher, ghosted by a pair of silent children. Her mother always looked at Marcus through eyes hard with suspicion.