Chapter 5

Peter Hanson walked to the Stevenson house with Sasha and Malcolm. It was not far at all, set out of the way at the end of a lane and not far from the river. Malcolm's mother opened the door and stepped back to let them enter. Malcolm followed the other two in and was instantly clasped in his mother's arms. Her embrace seemed to last forever, but she finally released him and turned to Sasha. Sasha was a little taller than Mrs. Stevenson, who had to look up to look into her eyes. Sasha met her eyes steadily, and Mrs. Stevenson nodded.

"I see what you mean, Malcolm," she said, holding Sasha's eyes, "young lady, you are very welcome in our house. I hope we can, perhaps, begin to make up for what my husband was going to do to you."

"No need," she replied, looking at Malcolm and smiling.

Mrs. Stevenson turned to Peter, "Rector ... thank you for coming with them."

"Not at all. I thought it might not be a bad thing to pray round your house, if you like of course."

"Why ... yes. I'd like that very much. Knowing what Percy was up to ... it's a very good idea." She turned to Malcolm, "Why don't you show Sasha the room the other side of the bathroom from yours?"

The bathroom, which had bath, shower, wash-basin, bidet and w/c, was shared between the two rooms. Malcolm had, for the most part, had it to himself as the master bedroom was en-suite. However, he could see there might be compensations to sharing it with Sasha. By her expression, she was having the same thought.

The room had a three-quarter bed, made up with a flowery duvet and matching pillow-slips. A pair of pyjamas were laid out on it. Malcolm went to the second door and opened it.

"Bathroom through here," he said, "pink towel and flannel are yours, and there's a new toothbrush, I see."

She came up to him and when he entered the bathroom, she followed.

"There's a privacy bolt both sides of the connecting doors, so if you're in the bathroom you don't have to be interrupted, and no-one can walk into your room from the bathroom if you don't want them to."

She slipped an arm round his waist. "I think you've got quite the wrong idea about me, you know. Can I see your room?"

He shrugged and went to open the door opposite the one they'd entered through. She stood in the middle of the room, looking round. A three-quarter bed with 'Star Trek' covers on the duvet and pillows. A computer on a desk. Bookshelves, packed with books. A small sound-system. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Star Trek?"

"What can I say? I like it," he shrugged. "I wonder what Captain Kirk ... or Jean-Luc would have done in that chapel?"

She pulled him to her and held him close, resting her cheek against his chest. He could smell her hair and his penis stirred.

"They weren't there," she pointed out. "You were. And you tried to protect me. You did protect me."

He reached out his hand, she took it, they went downstairs and into the kitchen, where there was a saucepan full of soup bubbling on the hob.

"That smells good," Sasha commented.

"I'm willing to bet it's for us," Malcolm said. "I told Mum we'd had some tea, but she'll insist we eat before bed. Cuppa tea?"

"Yes, please." Sasha sat at the table as Malcolm filled the kettle.

He was just pouring water into the pot when his mother entered.

"Ah, you've made tea. Good! You'll have some soup, won't you?"

"Yes, please ... it smells wonderful," Sasha said as Malcolm made agreeing noises.

Mrs. Stevenson placed bowls of soup in front of them and a basket of rolls in the middle of the table and they ate together.

Dulcie sat in the study with the Sorensons and told them as much as she knew about what had happened to their daughter.

"You see, I'm sure they had no intention of raising anything supernatural, that it was just an excuse for abuse. But the occult isn't something you can safely play with, intentionally or otherwise, and what they were doing was evil. Your daughter was protected by her innocence. That's not to say she couldn't have been raped, because innocence isn't much protection from humans gone bad, but the dark powers are ... governed ... by rules. Because of what those people were doing, a demon was raised, that couldn't touch Susan because she was good, and pure, and innocent. I heard its cry when it tried to touch her. The leader had no such protection. I hope the others will learn from what happened and stop their activities. The police will investigate – they've got a fair amount to go on regarding the clearly illegal and non-spiritual activities and perhaps the threat will be enough. But for now, Susan is going to be okay. She may need some counselling and prayer, but, as I said, she's protected and I think she's learned a lesson about you."

Susan's father rose and held out his hand. "Thank you, Reverend."

"Please, it's Dulcie."

"Then, thank you, Dulcie."

Marit Sorenson stood, but instead of holding out her hand, embraced Dulcie, saying simply, "Thank you."

They didn't leave right away, wanting to spend a little longer with Susan, but eventually everyone was settled.

"Aren't you tired?" Peter was clearly concerned for his wife.

"Strangely ... no. But I'd dearly love for you to hold me and make love to me..."

"I think I can manage that."

Dulcie woke draped half over Peter, with his arms wrapped round her. She felt so safe and content she stretched and wriggled like a cat when it wakes, but without breaking contact. Peter was clearly already awake, because his hands began to move, which made her wriggle some more with pleasure. Lifting her head, she glanced at the clock and jerked up in shock. Had Peter's arms not held her, she would have been out of bed and halfway across the room.

"Relax," he said.

"It's past eight!" she squeaked.

"So, if anyone is desperate for breakfast, they know where the kitchen is. Bert will have the church open, and Andy will lead Matins. We've had a rough couple of days and you, especially, need a rest."

"Peter, I've had a rest. That was the most refreshing night we've had in quite a while," she said with a grin, "but you've got another think coming if you expect me to stay here when I'm expecting the Sorensons for Susan."

"Ah..." Peter's hand, which had begun exploring her breast, stopped moving. "Oh, well. I suppose you're right. Mind you," he squeezed gently, "I never get tired of this. I love you, sweetie, you know that."

"I believe you've told me that before, once or twice," she said with a smile, "though I don't suppose I'll ever get tired of hearing it, or," she added as he squeezed again, "that, either."

He released her and she quickly showered and dressed before going downstairs, where she found Carli, Jen and Susan in the kitchen. There was a jug of coffee on the table and as Dulcie entered, Susan switched the machine on again to make another. There were bowls out, cereal, orange juice and milk.

"Oh, well done, girls!" Dulcie praised them for their initiative.

"Susan made the coffee; it's not something we're used to doing. But it's lovely coffee. Much better than anything we got in Northampton," Carli said, then drew breath as if to go on, but didn't.

"Go, on, Carli," Jen encouraged, but the other girl dropped her eyes, so Jen took a breath and went on, "we wanted to ask if ... you could make sure we stayed together. I don't suppose we could stay here..."

"Actually," Dulcie said, "we have another bedroom, but it's set up as an office. But, no, I don't think we can keep you here. Certainly not all four. I'm determined, though, that we'll find you somewhere suitable. You definitely don't want to go back to Northampton?"

The girls actually, literally, visibly shivered.

"No, I see you don't," she said. "Mind you, your experience of Maldon isn't the best, is it?"

"You've been great," Carli said, "we'll be fine as long as you're around."

Somehow, Dulcie's eyes prickled and she found it necessary to blot them with a tissue. She was just pouring a coffee when the door-bell rang. Going to it, she found, as she expected, Marit and Erik Sorenson.

"Come in," she said, "your daughter's just made some fresh coffee."

Erik smiled, "You couldn't have said anything more reassuring and encouraging. I'd love a cup."

She showed them to the kitchen, only for the door-bell to ring again. That time, she found Angela and Arthur Glover.

"Can we have a word?" Arthur asked as she beckoned them in.

She nodded and led the way to the study, offering them coffee. When they refused, she asked, "I hope you don't mind me having some? I've not long since got out of bed!"

Mrs. Glover gasped, "Oh, no of course not! Is it convenient? We could come back later."

Dulcie laughed; "I think things are likely to get even more hectic later. Besides, I somehow think you're not going to waste my time. Just a moment."