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three times. Deep down she knew Laura was probably right. But could she pretend to go along with their beliefs without compromising herself? Weren’t they all nuts, in one way or another? And yet she knew she wasn’t the only one here who felt like that. Surely Don did too.
    They allowed her to spend the next five minutes eating, before Edgar took up the topic again. “Therapy or treatment? What about those, Juliet? Have you ever had any?”
    “No. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
    “There doesn’t have to be anything wrong with you, dear.” Laura turned an earnest face to her. “But you’ll have needs. We all have those. And they are what have brought us here.”
    Juliet considered. Since her relationship with her last boyfriend had broken up, just two months before, she’d set her sights more firmly than ever upon her career, and upon trying to help Zoe. She needed recognition, acknowledgement, acceptance… and some truth from Craig about his plans for her sister, for a start. 
    “Well,” she said, “I expect I do have a need to find some answers.” She gave a half-smile.
    Edgar quickly took his opportunity to get back to the all-important questionnaire. “So,” he said. “You can’t at this moment remember an ecstatic experience to share with me. Let’s move on to another question instead. How have you been feeling in the past week?”
    No, she wasn’t going to be drawn. “As from Wednesday – which was when I received Zoe’s email – I’ve been looking forward to the challenge of meeting you and your fellow group members.” As Juliet levelled her eye upon Edgar, there came several loud knocks on the kitchen door. They all looked up, startled.
    “Come in,” called Edgar. The door banged back, and a dishevelled figure lurched through the doorway, dumping a well-stuffed plastic carrier bag down onto the quarry tiles.
    “James!” cried Laura. “Why must you do this at meal-times? Every time you do, I swear you get filthier and filthier. It’s a good thing Craig never saw you in this state up in Edinburgh. Otherwise, I’m sure none of us would be here now.”
     

3
     
    Being Drawn In

    James wore a filthy, tattered gabardine coat, and his hair hung in oily dreadlocks. He seemed to have smeared his face with greasepaint. His teeth were a sickening mixture of black and yellow. The eyes he turned upon Juliet were filled with undisguised curiosity.
    It was those eyes which gave him away. Despite being bloodshot, they fizzed at her, keen and intelligent – totally out of keeping with the rest of his image.
    “So you’re Juliet Blake, our radio interviewer?” His tone was unmistakeably cultured.
    “Yes,” she said, astonished.
    “James Willoughby. We’re all on first-name terms here, so call me James. I used to teach Craig at Edinburgh.”
    Teach him? She drew a deep breath. “How do you do, James?”
    “Excellently, thank you.”
    She tried not to flinch as they shook hands – especially as his needed washing.  “Would you mind telling me why you’re dressed like that?”
    “Ah,” he said. “You haven’t had the chance to meet me in my socially acceptable persona yet have you?”
    She shook her head. Did he have a socially acceptable persona? It seemed barely believable.
    “Well, let me tell you,” James said, “I dress very smartly when I’m in that guise.” He dragged back the seat next to her, and slouched into it.
    “I first started dressing up like this,” he continued, “shortly after I was appointed to my position at Edinburgh.”
    “Why?”
    “I saw that everyone around me hunted honour and prestige. So it seemed a good idea to try shame and squalor instead. My plan was to do it every few days.” He paused. “And then, well, I must admit I got hooked.”
    “That sounds fascinating, James, but I still don’t see how…”
    “ The Shadow ,” interrupted Edgar. “That’s what you call it, don’t you, James?”
    “Exactly.” James seized upon the