Chapter 18
SCARLETT
The air has thickened, rising from the ground in waves. I walk the perimeter of the tent, zigzagging between trees to keep to the shade.
I take a different exit to the one George and I came in through.
From Google Maps it appears to offer a less-crowded route back to the station.
As I enter a back street, a car passes me, weaving between the parked vehicles.
A BMW, a red so vibrant, it’s hard to miss.
I stop in my tracks. Marcus is driving, and a young woman with black plaited hair who approached him on the stage is sitting in the passenger seat with an unusual stillness about her.
The unease I’ve carried all day awakens in my stomach.
But who am I to judge? She could be his daughter.
But it could also be someone’s sister who is not in the right frame of mind.
The sight of that girl bothers me all the way to the station. I want to call the police. But what would I say? I have a hunch that man had something to do with my sister’s death. They’d laugh me out of the door.
But when I reach the station and am waiting for my train, the same woman is standing on the opposite platform, shading her eyes with an A Meeting of Minds leaflet. Marcus must’ve dropped her off. No harm done.
But the unease accompanies me the whole way home.
The train is packed, and a large guy takes the seat beside me, pushing me up against the window.
When I can get a signal on my phone, I dig into Marcus Aurelius again but find little.
All of the A Meeting of Minds social media pages have the same photo of him from the website.
I study every post. It’s all very engrossing, all set up to maximise engagement. I can see why other women, especially vulnerable ones, can be taken by the message he promotes about bettering yourself.
I check news archives. Strangely, A Meeting of Minds doesn’t have much coverage. A few articles in the early days but then nothing. But his Facebook page has hundreds of five-star reviews. Messages from people he has helped over the years, many saying he has saved their lives.
I google how to find someone’s real name, and an idea forms in my head.
Earlier this year, I set up my own company, as advised by my accountant, because I started to earn over the tax threshold as a sole trader.
I couldn’t have been prouder to add Ltd to the end of MOVE WITH SCARLETT.
I go onto the Companies House website and type in Marcus Aurelius, and there it is – hiding in plain sight all along.
Marcus Aurelius’s real name is Justin Lakeland.