Without money we can’t do anything. It didn’t used to be like that. People could live and eat and travel around without needing any actual cash.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘But where’s this taking us?’
Kenneth clutched his hands together, though not too tightly. ‘Nowhere,’ he said. ‘I’m more interested in your ideas about what happens to people who abandon all contact with the seasons and the soil.’
‘They become Freemasons,’ said Daphne bitterly.She had the air of someone who had been waiting to speak for some time. ‘All allegory and symbols and totally ignorant about anything solid and real.’
Everybody groaned. Then I smiled and said, ‘Hey, Daph, that’s almost a record. Fifteen minutes before you mentioned the Craft. You must be getting over it.’
It was a risk. Daphne saw nothing to joke about in the subject of the Brotherhood. Her husband had joined several years previously in the face of her strident objections. She had made it as difficult for him as she possibly could, given that the active cooperation of the wife was one of the central requirements for membership. But Eddie had been determined. He was the ideal type for a society of the self-important. He loved the dramatics of it, the bonding and the ritual. As Daphne became more hysterical, he became more committed, until the inevitable happened. He left her with two teenage children, and moved to Gloucester where he quickly gained initiation to the third level at one of the big Lodges there. Daphne followed his progress obsessively on their website, broadcasting his activities everywhere she went, with caustic mockery. He was a recurrent presence both actually and figuratively, visiting his children, and driving between the Cotswold towns and villages in a bright yellow convertible that everybody knew.
His profession was Town Planner, and he had asenior position on the Council that involved writing influential reports for planning appeals, inspecting doubtful extensions and offering expert guidance on the quality of differing types of Cotswold stone. Eddie Yeo was a man everybody claimed as a friend, but nobody ever took for granted.
When Phil and Thea and I had found the Masonic artefacts in Helen’s attic, my first thoughts had turned to Eddie. He might well have been afraid to store his regalia and equipment when he was still living with Daphne at home, knowing that his wife was quite capable of destroying it when his back was turned. Perhaps he had sneaked into Greenhaven to use it as a secret storage place. But the timing didn’t work. Helen’s attic had been used only days ago, and Eddie had been a free agent for over a year, with no need to hide anything from anybody. When Phil had made his guess about a clandestine Mason, it had rung all too true to me. There had to be other couples like Eddie and Daphne. My problem was discovering just who they might be.
Daphne was a compulsive proselytiser. She gave talks about paganism to any group she could persuade to have her. She wrote articles for mainstream magazines, correcting misapprehensions and claiming nothing less than the future of humankind and the entire planet rested in the beliefs and values of pagans. She was a good writer, able toconvey serious points with an accessibly light touch, and I had great admiration for her. My only reservation was that much of what she did and said came as a direct reaction to Eddie and his behaviour. Eddie liked secrecy so Daphne threw everything open to the public gaze. Eddie liked abstractions, so Daphne got physical. Daphne, by nature rather academic and bookish, killed hens and rabbits with her bare hands and prepared them for the pot in true medieval fashion, guts and severed heads all over her kitchen. Daphne went out along the hedgerows gathering sloes and blackberries, getting scratched and chilled, long after I had given up and retreated to the fireplace. She collected slugs and snails in messy traps and tried to feed them to
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘But where’s this taking us?’
Kenneth clutched his hands together, though not too tightly. ‘Nowhere,’ he said. ‘I’m more interested in your ideas about what happens to people who abandon all contact with the seasons and the soil.’
‘They become Freemasons,’ said Daphne bitterly.She had the air of someone who had been waiting to speak for some time. ‘All allegory and symbols and totally ignorant about anything solid and real.’
Everybody groaned. Then I smiled and said, ‘Hey, Daph, that’s almost a record. Fifteen minutes before you mentioned the Craft. You must be getting over it.’
It was a risk. Daphne saw nothing to joke about in the subject of the Brotherhood. Her husband had joined several years previously in the face of her strident objections. She had made it as difficult for him as she possibly could, given that the active cooperation of the wife was one of the central requirements for membership. But Eddie had been determined. He was the ideal type for a society of the self-important. He loved the dramatics of it, the bonding and the ritual. As Daphne became more hysterical, he became more committed, until the inevitable happened. He left her with two teenage children, and moved to Gloucester where he quickly gained initiation to the third level at one of the big Lodges there. Daphne followed his progress obsessively on their website, broadcasting his activities everywhere she went, with caustic mockery. He was a recurrent presence both actually and figuratively, visiting his children, and driving between the Cotswold towns and villages in a bright yellow convertible that everybody knew.
His profession was Town Planner, and he had asenior position on the Council that involved writing influential reports for planning appeals, inspecting doubtful extensions and offering expert guidance on the quality of differing types of Cotswold stone. Eddie Yeo was a man everybody claimed as a friend, but nobody ever took for granted.
When Phil and Thea and I had found the Masonic artefacts in Helen’s attic, my first thoughts had turned to Eddie. He might well have been afraid to store his regalia and equipment when he was still living with Daphne at home, knowing that his wife was quite capable of destroying it when his back was turned. Perhaps he had sneaked into Greenhaven to use it as a secret storage place. But the timing didn’t work. Helen’s attic had been used only days ago, and Eddie had been a free agent for over a year, with no need to hide anything from anybody. When Phil had made his guess about a clandestine Mason, it had rung all too true to me. There had to be other couples like Eddie and Daphne. My problem was discovering just who they might be.
Daphne was a compulsive proselytiser. She gave talks about paganism to any group she could persuade to have her. She wrote articles for mainstream magazines, correcting misapprehensions and claiming nothing less than the future of humankind and the entire planet rested in the beliefs and values of pagans. She was a good writer, able toconvey serious points with an accessibly light touch, and I had great admiration for her. My only reservation was that much of what she did and said came as a direct reaction to Eddie and his behaviour. Eddie liked secrecy so Daphne threw everything open to the public gaze. Eddie liked abstractions, so Daphne got physical. Daphne, by nature rather academic and bookish, killed hens and rabbits with her bare hands and prepared them for the pot in true medieval fashion, guts and severed heads all over her kitchen. Daphne went out along the hedgerows gathering sloes and blackberries, getting scratched and chilled, long after I had given up and retreated to the fireplace. She collected slugs and snails in messy traps and tried to feed them to
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