The Wicca Woman

  The Wicca Woman

  David Pinner

  © David Pinner 2014

  David Pinner has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  First published in 2014 by Endeavour Press Ltd.

  Table of Contents

  Author’s Note

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

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  29

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  31

  Extract from Ritual by David Pinner

  Author’s Note

  The Wicca Woman is the sequel to my occult novel, Ritual, which is now commonly recognised by cinema fanatics as the original seed that grew into the towering cult-movie enigma, The Wicker Man. I wrote Ritual four decades ago, and it was republished by Finders Keepers in 2011. Ritual is set in an enclosed, rural Cornish landscape in 1967, and it follows the trail of an English police officer, Hanlin, who is requested to investigate the murder of a local child. During the protagonist’s short stay in Thorn Village, Hanlin is subjected to a spectacle of psychological trickery, sexual seduction, ancient religious practices and nightmarish sacrificial rituals, while in defiant response, the young children of the Cornish villagers become ‘the lights in the growing darkness’.

  The Wicca Woman is also set in the same Cornish village, but now over 30 years have passed. The novel opens on a momentous Midsummer Day in 1999, and the village children in Ritual, who were ‘the light in the growing darkness’, have now become as disturbed, frenzied, and often as dangerous as their deceased parents. Into their midst comes the lithesome, Lulu, who may or may not be a man-destroying succubus, and death, mayhem and terror follow in her wake; so naturally – or unnaturally – on Millennium Eve, The Wicca Woman comes to its ritualistic and sacrificial climax. But is this only the horrific beginning of what is yet to come…?

  I was trained as an actor at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, and I played many roles on stage and television. I am a novelist and a playwright, and I wrote my novel, Ritual, while I was playing the lead in Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap in London’s West End. I have had many of my plays produced, including Fanghorn, starring Glenda Jackson at the Fortune Theatre; Lucifer’s Fair at the Arts Theatre; The Potsdam Quartet at the Lyric, Hammersmith, and recently at the Jermyn Street Theatre; and Lenin in Love at the New End Theatre. Oberon Books have published my plays; The Vampire Trilogy; The Stalin Trilogy; Three Power Plays; The Seasons Quartet; Oh, To Be In England and my four one-act plays, The Joy of Misery.

  1

  In the beginning the Goddess created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of the Goddess moved upon the face of the waters.

  And the Goddess said, ‘Let there be light; and there was light.’ And the Goddess saw that the light was good; and She divided the light from the darkness. She called the light Day, and the darkness She called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.

  Then on the seventh day, the Goddess created woman in Her own image; so female, and then male, She created them both from the earth.

  And the Goddess blessed her creations, and She said unto them; ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the Earth. But always be kind to the Earth and cherish it.’

  And the Goddess saw everything that She had made, and, behold, it was very good.

  Then on the eighth day, the Goddess planted a garden eastward in Eden, and there She put the woman and the man, whom She had formed from the earth, and She told them to dress the garden, and to tend it.

  And the Goddess commanded the woman, whom she named Lilith, and the man whom she named Adam, saying; ‘Of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, thou must eat of it. For in that day thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely know the truth about yourselves, and to know the truth is everything.’

  On the instant Lilith tasted of the Fruit of Knowledge, but Adam would not taste because ignorance is bliss. Then he pushed Lilith down into the grass to have his way with her. But Lilith said, ‘I will not lie below you, Adam, but only on top.’ And Adam said, ‘I will not lie beneath you, Lilith. For you are only fit to lie under me because I am a man, so I am to be the superior one.’

  Lilith shook her ash-blonde tresses, and she said, ‘As we were both created from the same earth, we are equal to each other.’

  Yet Adam would not hearken to Lilith’s truth, and he leapt upon her. But before he could flood her with his seed, Lilith pronounced the Goddess’ Ineffable Name. Then Lilith flew away into the air.

  The choleric Adam shook his phallus at the heavens, and he swore that womankind would pay dearly for the insult to his manhood.

  Whereupon the Lady Goddess looked down in great sadness on the earth because She knew all the terrors that were yet to come to humankind. Also She felt pity for Adam, so she went unto her daughter, Lilith, who was now wandering in another part of Eden. And the Goddess caused a deep sleep to fall upon Lilith. Then the Goddess took one of Lilith’s ribs, and closed up her flesh.

  Then the Lady Goddess made Lilith’s rib into a second woman. And She brought the woman unto Adam; and he called her Eve.

  At Adam’s bidding, instantly Eve ate of the Tree of Knowledge with him. Then Adam inserted his serpent into Eve’s Eden, and he knew her, and together they begat Cain and Abel.

  When Cain and Abel had grown into men, Lilith found them outside Eden, and she loved them both equally, until Cain rose up against his brother, Abel, and he slew him. Then Lilith grieved for the slain Abel, and with her sea-green eyes, sadly she watched the tormented Cain fleeing into the Land of Nod.

  Still grieving, Lilith covered her face with her ash-blonde tresses. But at the Goddess’ bidding, she bided her time because as the Goddess foretold; ‘Lilith, my first creation, you have endless time and tides to bide because in the future you have endless deeds to do. Especially by the sea. With your sea-green eyes, you are my Moon siren, my prophetess, and my protector of humankind. So go forth, Lilith, and forever uphold the truth.’

  And Lilith went down to the sea where she peered at the dancing sea anemones in the aquamarine rockpools. And for the briefest moment, she found peace. But then the Goddess called Lilith to commence her endless deeds.

  And here endeth the First Chapter.

  2

  It was Midsummer Day, Monday June 21st, 1999, in Thorn Village, Cornwall.

  Paul Hopkins was drawn to her immediately, but Lulu didn’t seem to notice Paul as her sea-green eyes gazed out across the beach at the sunlit ocean, where she, alone, could see the moon beyond the horizon.

  A moment later, several other men from the village formed a hesitant half-circle around the lithesome Lulu like a gaggle of ganders. Lulu turned and smiled benignly at them, while she sipped some more lemonade from the Midsummer table, resplendent with canapés and drinks. As she drank the remains of her lemonade, the women from the village watched Lulu from a distance. Then Lulu slipped off her gold sandals, and with the hot sun on her back, she ran down the beach towards the ebbing tide.

  When Lulu reached the sea, she stepped into the creaming foam. Her smile broadened as she watched an upturned crab righting itself in the wake of a retreating wave. Laughing she shook her ash-blonde tresses ab
out her shoulders, while the men from the village continued to gaze at her nubile figure and her sun-kissed hair as if she was the sea goddess, Aphrodite. She splashed in the sea, and opened her arms to embrace the ocean, which, in turn, induced the men to trudge down the sand towards her. As the men formed a bewitched arc some ten feet away from Lulu, the women of the village hissed their disapproval.

  ‘Who the hell does she think she is?’ Mary Rowbottom snarled to her best friend, Tina Biggs, as she poured them both another glass of cider.

  ‘Yeah, she’s only been here for less than a month,’ Sue Townley nodded, her eyes flaring. ‘Yet Lulu Crescent already thinks she’s the frigging Queen of the frigging May, doesn’t she?’

  ‘She does, Sue. Mind, if I had a name like Lulu Crescent, I’d be so embarrassed that I’d never step out of my cottage,’ Mary jibed, pushing her fingers through her closely-cropped red hair.

  ‘Why has she come to our village, anyhow? There’s nothing here in Thorn for someone like her,’ Sue asserted, after taking another swig of cider. ‘Well, you’d think Ms. Crescent would want to strut her stuff in some big-city shithole like London, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Right. She must be after our men, then.’

  ‘Yeah, and we can’t have that, Mary,’ Sue agreed, focusing on her balding husband, Vincent, the village postman, who was at the forefront of the men standing behind Lulu. Then Sue pointed at her husband as he gazed unwaveringly at the blonde’s contours; ‘So, Mary, something’ll have to be done, to stop that conniving bitch stealing our men away from us.’

  ‘Especially as both of our guys are already down there, Sue, lusting after the little tart,’ Mary concurred, gesturing at her partner, Jimmy Vaughn, who was a six-foot-three farmer. Jimmy was standing beside Vince in the semi-circle of men, and they were all ogling Lulu.

  *

  Although Lulu couldn’t hear her female critics, she was used to being called names. Laughing she flicked her shoulder-length hair over her left shoulder. Lulu was always partial to anything on the left. As the foam spumed around her ankles, she savoured the bone-chilling sensation.

  At that moment Paul Hopkins appeared by Lulu’s right shoulder, and that was never a good sign. She was aware that all the other male villagers, including Sue Townley’s Vince and Mary Rowbottom’s Jimmy, were hovering behind her, entranced by her lissom body. And, of course, it went with the territory, so Lulu was used to that, too.

  ‘You’ve got another of your burning headaches, haven’t you?’ Lulu murmured, stepping out of the sea.

  Paul scratched his recently-acquired beard. ‘Sorry,’ he said as he continued to gaze at Lulu. ‘Were you talking to me?’

  Lulu pursed her lips to avoid smiling. ‘Yes, I was talking to you, Paul.’ She gestured over her left shoulder at the besotted men who were encircling her. ‘I certainly wasn’t talking to any of your friends. They have much more primordial things on their minds. And while we’re on the subject of headaches, Paul; when your friends face the jealous wrath of their girlfriends and wives this evening, they could all end up with serious headaches, too. Not that wives or girlfriends are your problem, Paul, are they?’

  ‘How’d you know I’m not married, and that I don’t have a girlfriend – Lulu?’ Paul asked hesitantly while he scratched his beard again. Then he added, ‘D’you mind if I call you “Lulu”?’

  ‘Lulu’s as good a name as any. In my time I’ve been called numerous names,’ she said, with her sea-green eyes focusing on the horizon. Then she turned back to him. ‘But I am right, Paul, aren’t I? You’re not married, and you don’t have a girlfriend.’

  ‘It’s true, at the moment, I don’t… But you still haven’t explained how you know about my burning headaches,’ Paul said, rubbing his forehead feverishly as he pulled a much-mauled, leather-encased hipflask out of his jacket pocket. ‘Yes, Lulu, I know what you’re thinking,’ he muttered, unscrewing the cap of his hipflask. ‘But this helps me to blank things out.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘It’s one of the many reasons why I’m here in Thorn,’ Lulu said, while Paul compulsively took another glug of alcohol. ‘So you should stop drinking before you do yourself irreparable harm.’

  ‘A little of what you fancy does you good.’

  ‘Then I’ll leave you with your Southern Comfort ‘till you’re ready.’

  ‘Ready for what?’

  ‘When you’re ready, you’ll know,’ she responded, watching Paul feverishly massaging his temples with his free hand. ‘Your headaches will tell you. And if it isn’t too late, you will come to me for help. And then who knows? There’s a chance that I might even cure you.’

  Lulu glanced back at the village women, who were still critically scrutinising their men, while the men seemed unaware of the women’s hostility. They were too busy salivating over Lulu, who turned back to Paul with her accommodating smile.

  ‘Now perhaps you will excuse me, Paul. You see, I must thank all these very kind ladies for allowing me to partake in their delectable Midsummer’s Day spread.’

  ‘I get bad headaches, too, Lulu, but mine are different to Paul’s. Mine are like electric shocks,’ said Jimmy Vaughn as he urged his six-foot-three, rugged farmer’s frame to loom over her left shoulder.

  ‘Headaches are obviously a common disorder around here,’ murmured Lulu, smiling pointedly at both men.

  ‘So do you have something in mind to cure me, too?’ demanded the towering farmer, with his ice-grey eyes fixed on Lulu.

  ‘Perhaps. Well, curing is what I do, Jimmy. Amongst many other things. But, of course, gentlemen, your headaches have very different causes. And both of you will have to confront the deeply-disturbing, but very different reasons, for your headaches. And the two of you will have to do this sooner rather than later.’

  ‘Look, Lulu, I don’t have a clue what you’re on about, but…well, how did you know my name was Jimmy?’ the farmer asked, with a perplexed look.

  ‘It’s written on your forehead, Jimmy. Or given what is really haunting you, perhaps your name is best “written on water” like Keats’ name was.’

  ‘Who the dickens is Keats when he’s at home?’ Jimmy said, now even more perplexed as he shook his dark corona of curls.

  ‘Charles Dickens had nothing to do with Keats and his “writing on water”, Jimmy,’ replied Lulu. ‘No, Dickens’ heroes were much less ambiguous in their pronouncements. Which is why “It’s a far, far better thing that I do now”, and “Can I have some more, sir?” are more Dickens’ style. Isn’t that right, Paul?’

  ‘And don’t forget Dickens’ murderous villains like Bill Sykes,’ laughed Paul, twirling his moustache in a mock-sinister Victorian manner.

  ‘How could I?’ Lulu asked, with a bleak smile. ‘Especially now that I’m living in a deleterious village like yours.’

  ‘Your problem, Lulu, is you’re totally lulu!’ Jimmy said, shaking his head in consternation. Then he gazed down at her breasts, and again his grey eyes glazed over like milky marbles. ‘See, there’s something about you that’s so bloody unnerving,’ Jimmy muttered. ‘Well, you’ve barely been in our village for a month, and yet it’s as if you’ve been here, well, like for…’

  ‘…Like forever, Jimmy?’ Lulu suggested as she watched him continue to devour her bosom with his eyes.

  ‘Yes! And that’s why I’m sure all the women in the village might be right about you, Lulu,’ Paul muttered on her left, agitatedly scratching his beard.

  ‘Women generally are right about most things, Paul,’ Lulu riposted, thoroughly enjoying herself.

  ‘Look, what I’m trying to say, Lulu, is…’ insisted Jimmy as he forced his gaze away from her bust, and onto her smiling lower lip. ‘Well, I just can’t understand why someone as gorgeous as you would want to come and live down here in the backside of Cornwall. ‘Specially in an out-of-the-way dump like Thorn. ‘Cause we don’t even have a train station any more. We’ve only got a church and a pub. It�
��s why all the kids have to be bussed to the school in Idlethorpe. But then Idlethorpe is a proper village. So there’s nothing for someone like you in Thorn. It’s a fact, Lulu. Not even the dumbest grokels venture down here for their summer holidays ‘cause they can’t get a signal for their mobile phones. And there’s only one poxy phone-box, and that doesn’t work half the time!’

  ‘Mind, even if nosy holiday-makers did come down here, Jimmy, with their signal-less mobile phones, the grokels certainly wouldn’t be made very welcome, would they?’ Lulu opined, with her sea-green eyes fixed unblinkingly on his. ‘But then when you consider Thorn’s horrendous history, it’s hardly surprising.’

  Lulu pointed an accusatory finger in the direction of the village, which was mostly hidden by trees. Her gaze zeroed in on the bedroom window of a solitary cottage, which was glittering amongst the leaves of a giant ash tree. For a second Lulu glimpsed a skeletal face pressed against the cottage’s windowpane. Then the cadaverous face was gone, and, once again, the window was merely an empty mirror reflecting the sunlight.

  ‘And, of course, your village is still prey to nightmares, isn’t it?’ Lulu asserted as she turned back to Jimmy and Paul.

  ‘You mean because of what happened in Thorn all those years ago?’ Jimmy muttered, after exchanging a glance with Paul.

  ‘Yes. And there are still malignant things going on here even as we speak, aren’t there, Jimmy?’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘Oh I’m not talking about things like…that little girl, who was found dead under the oak-tree, with a spray of garlic in her hand.’

  ‘I should hope bloody not, Lulu!’ spluttered Jimmy. ‘See, that happened in the late friggin’ Sixties!’

  ‘And Dian Spark wasn’t the only strange death here in Thorn in 1967, was it?’ Lulu interjected. ‘Her elder sister, Anna Spark, was also murdered. Along with poor Fat Billy Reynolds. Also, of course, there was Gypo.’