Stations of the Soul

by Chris Lewando

  ‘I have to rescue Sarah.’

  ‘Not right now, you don’t. You’ve said yourself, they might not still be there, and if they are, you’ll just put yourself in Joel’s hands. That wouldn’t help Sarah at all.’

  ‘True.’ Robin put his head in his hands.

  ‘So, eat,’ Father Kelly said, putting a plate of sausage and mash before him, in the sparse kitchen. ‘You’re not going to help her by starving yourself. I have a spare room. You can stay here for a bit. Trust in God. Something will turn up. You’d better keep away from the windows, though. Some of my neighbours have eyes like hawks. Especially the old ones.’

  Chapter 57

  Sarah was exhausted when she got back to London, not so much from the drive, but from the panicked thoughts that circled endlessly. Was Robin alright? Where would they go? How would they live? Would she even find him? How did you find an individual who was frightened of being found – for Robin must have realised by now that Joel had turned him into a wanted man. Keeping her head down, she made her way to her old room in the nurse’s hostel. Despite the chestnut-coloured curls that framed her face, anyone who knew her, would recognise her. She wasn’t even sure she should be there, but wanted clothes, and some of her personal things.

  Inside the room, she turned the light on, leaned her back against the closed door, and froze. There had been no crime scene tape across the door, no indication that there was any reason not to go in, but the room had been searched, and dusted with fingerprint powder. They had been thorough. Drawers had been left half open, her underwear rummaged through, disrupted, as if by some pervert. Half her clothes had been pulled from the rail, and were lying in a heap on the floor of the wardrobe. Her books were tumbled and ripped. They had even ripped the mattress, and pulled up the carpet, looking for what, she didn’t know. Her laptop was gone, so was a small file in which she kept her personal papers.

  The police were on to Joel, and she was guilty by association. Did being with Joel make her a criminal? Had Joel implicated her somehow? Thank God she’d taken her various passports and IDs when she’d fled – she doubted they would still be here, now.

  If they were watching the place, it was too late to run, so she grabbed a bag and began to throw in some essentials, and left with that peculiar itching in the middle of her back, as though being watched. She left hurriedly, not running, but nervously aware of time running away. Thankfully, she didn’t see anyone who would recognise her as she slipped out, and logic told her the police didn’t have the manpower to have that kind of surveillance.

  She booked into a hotel for a night, and left early, trawling the streets until shops began to open. Eventually she discovered a café that had a computer she could use. There, she unearthed the story about Father Kelly’s angel, written by Freman. Poor Freman. Damn Joel for a murdering bastard. Tears filled her eyes at the thought. Joel, her brother, that she’d brought up and protected, who had been with her all her life. Was he gone? She had never been so alone.

  Father Kelly’s church was mentioned in the article, but she couldn’t find his home address, so the church was the place to start. If Robin hadn’t visited the priest, given him some kind of clue where he’d go, she didn’t know what she would do. If he chose to disappear, she might spend the rest of her life looking. They could pass within streets of each other, and never meet. The concept appalled her.

  The church door was locked, and she waited in the van for several hours, wondering if the priest would even visit the church, given that it was mid-week. Eventually an older woman slid a massive key into a side door. After a moment, Sarah followed her in.

  The church was tall and silent and forbidding. To one who had never been involved in religion in any way at all, it seemed strangely archaic, like stepping back in time. But she followed the sounds to a clattering at the back, and discovered a small kitchen where the woman had just filled a galvanised pail with steaming water. Her dark hair had a grey star at the back, where it had been flattened in sleep.

  ‘Hello?’ Sarah said.

  The woman jumped and turned, fluttering her hand in front of her face. ‘Lord, girl, you want to give me a heart attack?’

  ‘Sorry.’ She plastered a smile on her face. ‘I’m looking for Father Kelly?’

  ‘He’ll be in for mass in half an hour, love.’

  ‘On a Tuesday?’

  The woman’s head tilted. ‘You’re not of the faith?’

  She shook her head. ‘Can I wait in the church?’

  ‘You can wait in here, dear, it’s not so cold. Make yourself a cuppa, over there. And there’s some biscuits in the tin. I have to get on, or I’ll still be cleaning during the service!’

  She laughed at herself, and didn’t ask what Sarah wanted. Maybe it was usual for non-believers to simply turn up and ask to see the priest, but there was an inherent generosity in the acceptance.

  Half an hour later, Father Kelly came in. He had been forewarned, and stood at the doorway, taking a long look. He wasn’t how she remembered him. He seemed older, and smaller. At the time she’d been unexpectedly traumatised by the sudden deaths of the woman and two children, and had come to her senses enough to run before Father Kelly could get a good look at her. His face crinkled into a genuine smile.

  ‘You have to be Sarah. I know someone who’s going to be very pleased to see you.’

  She closed her eyes with relief, and when she opened them, they were filled with tears. ‘Is he OK?’

  ‘Troubled, but otherwise unharmed,’ Father Kelly said. He glanced at the time on a mobile phone. ‘If you could wait until after mass, I’ll take you to him.’

  Chapter 58

  Robin was half-dozing when Father Kelly came back. He jumped up, instantly alert when the key turned in the lock. He waited a second, frozen, while the outer door closed, and the living room door was pushed open. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Joel had somehow found out where he was. His eyes met Sarah’s. After a second of pure shock, they walked silently into each other’s arms. He held her tightly, his chin nestled in her hair. His eyes closed briefly with relief, then he was just breathing in the scent of her while Father Kelly hovered, beaming with delight.

  An hour later they were sitting in the living room, going through their options.

  ‘We have to leave England,’ Robin said decisively.

  ‘But what about Papa? We can’t simply leave him killing people whenever he feels like it.’

  ‘I don’t see how we can stop him. We have to let the police deal with that. Or the army. Or something. I’ll tell Inspector Redwall everything. It’s up to him whether he believes it or not.’

  ‘He won’t.’

  ‘Maybe not, but at least I can tell him I didn’t kill that prostitute.’

  ‘But then, they’ll think it was Joel.’ She was silent for a space, then said, ‘He’s got to die, hasn’t he?’

  Robin grimaced. She didn’t mean Redwall. ‘I think so. I can’t see how it can be otherwise.’

  ‘We should all die. Stop this, right now.’

  ‘A suicide pact?’

  ‘No. I don’t think I can.’

  He smiled slightly. ‘Good. I wasn’t really up for that, either. Not yet, anyway. Who knows what I’ll think in the future? I mean, how long might we live? Will we one day get tired of simply being around?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  They sat silently together and the day drifted into evening. Fa-ther Kelly came in, and sat down. He’d pretty much stayed out of the way, giving them space. Now, he truly assessed Sarah.

  ‘I’d forgotten quite how lovely you are, my dear. I could surely be forgiven for thinking you an angel. I feel quite embarrassed by my stupidity.’

  She stood and hugged him. ‘I wanted to tell you I was flesh and blood, but how could I?’

  ‘No, indeed.’ The front door bell sounded. ‘That’ll be Bridget. We’re going through the program for Christmas. It’s early, I know, but quite an important day in my calendar.’


  Robin laughed as Father Kelly excused himself. Then as the priest came back to the living room, his smile died, leaving in its place blank incomprehension.

  Joel smiled widely over the Priest’s shoulder. ‘Hello, Robin. And Sarah, my sweet. All together again. One big, happy family.’

  He shoved Father Kelly through the doorway, and followed, pushing the door closed behind him. The cosy living room, with its tired furniture seemed to shrink around him.

  Sarah’s face drained of colour. ‘How did you find us?’ she asked tightly.

  ‘I’d like to say the same way you found each other, but it wasn’t too difficult, really. Joel’s stupid; I’m not. There was a tracker in the van. I followed it with a laptop. I’m really enjoying this century. You led me straight here, so here I am. It was easier to let you find Robin than for us all to go blundering about in different directions.’

  ‘Let me?’

  He smiled. ‘You think I didn’t know you’d doctored my coffee? Sarah, Sarah, when will you learn? I didn’t drink it, of course. Goodness knows how many pills you used. I wasn’t sure how murderous you were feeling.’

  The doorbell sounded, and Father Kelly jumped.

  Joel bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile. ‘Well priest, you’d better answer the door. Whoever that is, see them off. Nicely. If I have to come out, I’ll kill them, and it will be your fault.’

  Father Kelly was obviously taken aback. ‘You truly are as evil as they said.’

  ‘Evil? That’s not very nice. I prefer to think I’m unique, special, a survivor.’ The doorbell sounded again, impatiently, and Joel shooed him out of the door. ‘Go. And you two, be quiet.’

  They heard a woman’s voice, then heard Father Kelly explain that he really wasn’t well, and might be infectious. He didn’t think it was food poisoning, so maybe best if she didn’t come in the house until he was better? The door closed, and the small iron gate creaked.

  As the old man came back in, he seemed taller and straighter than before, as though he had come to terms with something deep inside himself.

  ‘Well done,’ Joel said admiringly. ‘I almost believed your lies myself. Something catching, eh? What it is to be holier than thou.’

  ‘I lied to keep a nice woman from harm. Any good person would have done the same.’

  ‘So,’ Joel patted the arm of the seat on his right. ‘Come and sit down while we have a chat, and decide what to do.’

  Father Kelly hovered for a moment, then lowered himself rigidly into the indicated chair.

  ‘There’s a good Priest,’ Joel said, condescendingly.

  ‘So, what now?’ Robin asked. ‘Are you going to kill us all?’

  ‘You, maybe; the crow, definitely.’

  ‘Papa, no!’ Sarah said.

  ‘Papa?’ Father Kelly queried, but no one tried to explain.

  ‘He knows we’re here.’ Joel continued. ‘Besides which, he’s a waste of space. A small cog in a rather nasty organisation that brainwashes people with lies, superstition and fear.’

  Father Kelly said quietly. ‘You only have to look around to know there’s a higher power. This life couldn’t have simply happened by accident.’

  ‘I beg to differ. No higher power would have created so many mistakes on one planet.’

  ‘Including you?’ Robin asked politely.

  Joel bared his teeth in a cold smile. ‘I almost like you, Robin, but you could push me too far. Now, we have a little problem, don’t we?’

  ‘Just one,’ Sarah muttered.

  Joel’s eyes flashed in her direction. ‘The problem being, my dear daughter, is in where we should go. My home has probably been confiscated.’ He sighed. ‘I do prefer to make plans rather than have people make them for me, but I can always get the old place back at some stage. I hate to think of strangers in there. It’s been in my family for generations. The war was a nightmare for my parents, all those self-righteous, crippled officers languishing about the place as if they owned it. But one had to be seen to be doing the right thing. Thankfully I was too ill to be conscripted.’

  ‘Were you?’

  ‘Sarah, Sarah, use your brain. My parents weren’t going to let their only son go and get his legs blown off. I recovered amazingly quickly when it was over.’

  ‘I wondered where you got your ethics from,’ Robin said.

  ‘War is stupid. It solves nothing. Two generations down the line, and most kids don’t know what their granddads were fighting for.’

  ‘Amazingly, I agree with you,’ Robin said.

  ‘Not that I care about people killing each other.’

  ‘We noticed.’

  ‘There are too many people on the planet, though. Perhaps that’s why God created war?’

  ‘Men make war,’ Father Kelly corrected. ‘You can’t blame God.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I forgot,’ he mocked. ‘God only does the nice things. Oh, look! That dear little baby survived; it must be a miracle. But if something bad happens, it’s because He gave man free will. How very convenient.’

  He stretched out, yawned, put his hands behind his head, and crossed his ankles, the only one in the room who gave the appearance of ease; a calculated move, not so much designed to deceive as to prove how in control of the situation he was. He was enjoying his superiority enormously; wallowing in it. His roving gaze landed on Sarah. ‘We should leave here. That busybody will be back soon enough, I don’t doubt. So, where do you think we should go, my sweet?’

  ‘How about that holiday cabin in Italy?’

  He gave a shout of laughter. ‘You did do a little reading before you burned everything, didn’t you? Did you keep all the deeds?’ Her silence caused his smile to widen. ‘My girl, my girl, I believe I’m quite proud of you, after all. A little sunshine wouldn’t do us any harm, now would it? I wonder if it’s still there?’ Then he sighed, theatrically. ‘But I suspect it was robbed for the building materials, long ago. We’ll just have to buy something else.’

  ‘What with?’

  ‘Don’t be obtuse. You know that little account you’ve been dip-ping into all these years wasn’t all I had. So, first we’ll travel – Eastern Europe, or Russia maybe, until the furore has died down. Give it twenty years, or so, people will not be looking for us like this.’ He indicated his body and face with a flick of the wrist. He uncoiled from the chair, and beckoned to Father Kelly. ‘Hupsadaisy, then. You know I can’t let you live, don’t you? Unfortunately for you, you’re the only one who knows the full story.’

  ‘Joel, no!’ Sarah, jumped to her feet. ‘If he promises not to say anything, he won’t. People wouldn’t believe him, anyway.’

  ‘You’re speaking of the man who just lied?’

  ‘To save someone else’s life, as you said.’ Father Kelly rose more slowly. ‘You don’t have to kill me. Prove you still have some humanity.’

  ‘You’re afraid, after all, that Heaven doesn’t exist?’

  ‘Not at all. I’d just prefer to not leave this world at this time.’

  ‘Of course you would,’ Joel said sarcastically. ‘Better the life you know than the one you’re not really sure exists, eh? Come on, Father. Your Maker is waiting for you.’

  Sarah leapt between them, but was put gently aside by the priest, as he warned, ‘Don’t get hurt on my behalf.’

  ‘Sorry, my sweet daughter,’ Joel agreed. ‘It just has to be done. We need to go. This place is a little too busy to be used as a bolt-hole.’ He glanced at the priest. ‘Any last words? Prayers, or some-thing?’

  ‘I’ve made my peace with God.’

  ‘Jolly good,’ Joel said, and whipped his hands around the priest’s throat.

  Father Kelly’s hands scrabbled at Joel’s fingers in choked silence, then closed around his wrists.

  Sarah leapt at one of Joel’s arms with her whole weight. She screamed, over and over, ‘Papa, no! Papa, no!’

  Robin desperately tried to unbalance Joel, tip him off his feet, but Joel stood solid in the face of t
heir joint efforts, like a statue come to life, tall, cold, and immovable.

  Seconds ticked by. A minute.Two.

  Father Kelly’s silent clawing gradually ceased, and his hands slipped to his side. Sarah backed away sobbing, and Robin’s ef-forts ceased when it was obvious that no air would ever pass again through the crushed remains of the priest’s throat. He hung grotesquely from Joel’s hands, like a tattered scarecrow at Halloween, his toes barely touching the floor, his bloated face and staring eyes more chilling than any mask. No man should be able to hold a dead weight before him, like that, but Joel was no ordinary man. He was evil incarnate, his gaze on the priest’s lifeless face anticipatory, as he waited, not for a miracle, but for his just reward.

  They froze; a still tableau.

  Robin’s eyes met Sarah’s in query, and she gave a faint shake of the head through her tears. Joel’s glance grazed them both, before he quipped, ‘Perhaps he didn’t have a soul?’

  ‘It takes a while for the mind to realise the body has ceased to function,’ Sarah said softly.

  Then Joel drew in a long breath. His head tipped back, his eyes half-closed, his mouth broke into a satisfied smile. His hands relaxed, and the priest’s body crumpled heavily to the floor in an unseemly tangle of black robes and exposed white limbs.

  ‘I thought the dead could choose who,’ Robin said in a harsh, disappointed whisper.

  ‘I always thought they could choose to leave,’ Sarah said, reaching for Robin’s hand. ‘But what if they can’t?’

  ‘God forbid.’

  Robin caught the irony of his words, even as he uttered them.

  In silence they watched the priest’s aura envelope Joel. He al-most radiated in the incandescent white light, swirling around his body like a heavy mist. It wound tighter and tighter and was finally absorbed.

  Robin was shocked at the euphoric expression flooding Joel’s face; it was alien and beautiful and bizarre. It was not the adoring beauty of an angel, but the cold magnificence of a heartless god, one with the power to rock the world from its axis.