Alex Preston - The Revelations

‘That was amazing. Was that. .? I mean, is that what speaking in tongues sounds like?’

‘That was it. Or at least how David speaks. I guess everyone has their own way of doing it. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

Maki just looked at him with wide dark eyes.

After the wine, they made their way down to the dining hall, where Mrs Millman was standing in the corner stirring pots of stew and vats of rice. The Course members sat down at the long tables in the candlelight. They seemed lost in the vast dining hall. The hall had mullioned windows and dark tapestries of hunting scenes. A mahogany armoire stood along one side of the room, its front inlaid with elaborate carvings of Greek myths. Wooden doors at the far end gave onto the garden. Marcus sat next to Abby and Maki and they talked and drank and he felt a sense of optimism sweep over him. Abby looked happier than she had for weeks and even Lee was smiling, laughing along with the twins and Mouse, while Sally Nightingale spoke to Neil and Philip at the other end of the table. The Earl sat down opposite Marcus and ate in silent concentration, spearing pieces of beef aggressively. When he had finished, he leaned forward towards Marcus and Abby.

‘How do you like the old place?’

‘It’s extraordinary,’ said Abby. ‘I’ve never been anywhere quite like it.’

‘It’s perfect for the Retreat. Don’t know why we haven’t had it here before. David was always a little nervous about it. This was where he underwent his own epiphany, you see. He wrote The Way of the Pilgrim here, so Lancing Manor has always held a special place in his heart. I think it’s a huge compliment to you lot that he agreed this year.’

‘I think it’s a good bunch. The new members, I mean. And I suppose he has seen us grow up with the Course. I like to think that this group of Course leaders is quite special to him.’

Marcus put his hand on his wife’s arm.

‘I have been working a great deal on the US expansion,’ the Earl said, his heavy eyebrows lowering as he spoke. ‘Over there, of course, it’s even more important that people shouldn’t worry about their wealth. It’s a society that is shaped by money and we have to recognise that. Particularly in the areas we’re targeting: the North-East and California. Greed has temporarily replaced faith for these people, but they remain believers. You can see it in their eyes. We need to let them know they can have both.’

Neil had come to sit beside Marcus. He leaned forward to listen to the Earl, his mouth hanging slightly open.

‘People don’t grasp the meaning of the story about the camel and the eye of the needle,’ the Earl continued. ‘They think it means that it is impossible for a rich man to enter heaven; it doesn’t. What Jesus is saying is that we will be held to higher standards. If we have gained wealth and power during our days on Earth, then we need to make sure that we behave impeccably. To those who have, more will be given. But only if we use our gifts correctly. Fitting a camel through the eye of a needle is child’s play for God. Indeed it may be that the verse is just a mistranslation, that the “needle” referred to a gate in the walls of Jerusalem through which it was perfectly possible to drive a camel. Whichever, there’s nothing to stop you being a good Christian and rich.’

Neil was nodding. David came to stand behind the Earl.

‘The Course has been so successful in the City because it doesn’t seek to judge people on how they behave in the office. It would be ridiculous to expect people to live like saints in a world that is as dog-eat-dog as ours. Christians would quickly be wiped off the map. So we ask people to come to the Course and ask God’s forgiveness when they have done wrong, and to use their money where they can to help further the Course’s good work.’

David looked hard at Neil.

‘You know,’ David said, raising his voice so the other members would hear, ‘the Bible is clever enough to know that the pursuit of wealth presents major problems for Christians. You should use it to guide you. There are twice as many verses in the Bible about money as there are about how to pray. Did you know that? Almost half of Jesus’s parables deal with cash. It isn’t easy to be rich and godly, but look to the Bible and you won’t go far wrong. And then, when you’re spectacularly rich, remember to give a good lot of it back to the church. Christians can’t afford to be squeamish about wealth — it is, as the Earl says, a horribly competitive world.’

After dinner, the Earl and the Nightingales left the Course members to drink and talk in the dinner hall. Some of the girls from Marcus and Abby’s group made their excuses and went up to bed at the same time. Marcus waved at them as they said goodnight and opened more bottles of wine, passing along the tables and filling empty glasses, smiling and chatting to the Course members. Someone found an ancient stereo with a pile of old CDs and the twins pulled Neil and Philip up to dance, singing misremembered lyrics in raucous voices. It grew darker in the hall as the boys blew out candles while moving tables to the side of the room to clear space for the dancers. Only the fire illuminated the dancing figures. Abby and Lee swung each other around energetically; Abby’s hands seemed huge on Lee’s frail body. Mouse and Marcus walked out into the garden for a cigarette, closing the heavy wooden doors behind them.

The night was clear and cold, the noise of the motorway loud in the still air. Marcus followed Mouse up a winding spiral stair whose steps were carved into the stone of the wall. At the top they made their way through an archway and onto the grassy roof of the dining hall. Mouse’s face was surprised by the flame of the lighter; seemingly about to speak, he drew back from Marcus, his eyebrows raised, the cigarette slack in the corner of his mouth. He then moved towards the flame. Marcus lit his own cigarette, and two red coals glowed in the darkness. They leaned on the metal rail that ran around the edge of the lawn and looked over towards the shimmer of the motorway that sat above the pines.

‘He was good tonight,’ said Mouse.

‘Pretty good. It’s a wonderful song. It’s the best song for the tongues.’ Marcus exhaled a long stream of smoke. He had been smoking too much recently. His lungs felt like old plastic bags. Abby was always complaining about his smoking, asking how one who was so scared of death could smoke. He had tried to explain to her once. How smoking was something he did because he was young. As soon as he gave up smoking, it would be a recognition of the fact that he was ageing, that he had left behind the eternity of adolescence. She had rolled her eyes the way she always did when he tried to explain the way he rationalised things she didn’t agree with.

‘I need to quit these things.’ He also liked to talk about quitting and had done for as long as he could remember. He coughed and spat into the bushes below. A sad moon rose over the trees, slowly ripping itself free from the motorway lights.

‘Imagine how he must have felt when they built the road. Imagine how peaceful it would have been before. I suppose motorways have to go somewhere, but it seems strange that they’d put it here, among all this.’ Marcus swung his cigarette hand out over the invisible view. The flashing ember left traces across his retinas.

‘The Earl hasn’t been here that long,’ said Mouse. ‘I did some research on Lancing Manor in the library. He bought it in, I don’t know, 1992 or something. He made an awful lot of money in one of the privatisations. Electricity, perhaps. It was when he bought his title. I looked it all up.’

‘Really? But what about the pictures, the photographs? It felt like his family had been living here for generations. It seems a bit fraudulent.’