by Colin Davy
When she took a deep breath, the gown parted again at the top. “I’m sorry to rain on her parade,” she said. “But she’s a fraud, a complete and utter fraud.” She frowned again. “I expect you’re embarrassed by her too.”
No, he wasn’t, but the familiar sight of her cleavage was embarrassing.
She gave an exaggerated sigh before continuing. “Let her down gently, Gary.” Now she sounded like Sophie for a moment. “I’m sure you’re unremarkable, as are most men, and you only want to be left in peace.”
He nodded, an accurate observation, especially tonight.
“She suffers from a vivid imagination,” she said. “The only cure is a dose of realism. Don’t pander to her.”
“I wasn’t-”
Debbie continued with hardly a pause. “She regards me as the black sheep of the family, despite all her denials to my face, and she hates Gail too.” She looked up as if expecting a nod of agreement.
“Where does this Gail come in?” he asked.
For the first time, Debbie broke into a smile. “She’s my partner,” she said fiercely. “That’s why Maria hates her, she can’t accept that fact and never will. Strangely enough, my devoted partner whose judgement is usually impeccable, believes in my sister’s psychic abilities too. I don’t suffer from Maria’s narcissistic personality, so I don’t believe in her at all.”
Not surprising from a younger sister, he thought. “Is that why you don’t believe these disappearances are true?”
“Oh, there are disappearances from time to time,” she said. “But you had something right earlier. They often go where they please, and that’s exactly what Maz can’t understand. She would never do that, therefore no one else will.” She gave a tight smile. “She would never have sex with another woman, therefore I can’t be doing it. You see what I mean?”
He was tempted to nod, but it might make him feel hypocritical. Best not get dragged into a dispute between warring sisters. He could imagine this girl bringing it up with Maria … ‘And you so-called boyfriend agrees with me, don’t you, Gary?’
Now she’d managed to get her simmering resentment off her chest, she seemed to fully relax. Unfortunately, it wasn’t all she’d got off her chest. When she leaned forward to finish off the tea, her dressing gown finally gave up, falling open at the top and confirming his initial guess about her absent underwear. Her efforts to pull the lapels together looked half-hearted, and unless he was doing her a disservice, she was giving him a quick flash.
Although he liked to think he wasn’t the worst-looking man around, he had to be realistic. If she found him attractive, it was only because of his relationship with her sister. A challenge to Debbie in a competition that existed only in her mind. He’d be careful with his visitor for that reason. What was the famous inscription on some mediaeval maps? ‘Here be dragons’ was exactly what he thought about her presence.
“I’ve listened to your views about Maria,” he said. “I’ll bear it in mind.” After making a point at looking at his watch, he looked up to see her response. “Thanks for coming,” he said when she remained silent.
Her frown was fiercer this time. “You’ve fallen under her spell, haven’t you, Gary? I should have known better than to waste my time.” Shaking her head, she rose to her feet and marched to the door. Throwing it open, she was on the verge of slamming it behind her when he held it open.
Now, she was getting irritating. “I’ll see you on Sunday morning then?” he asked.
She flared up. “Exactly,” she said. “I told you she’s a control freak, that’s the sort of thing I mean. Being ordered to come here for a lift at my age.”
“You can always refuse,” he said.
It had the desired effect, because she turned away with a scowl on her face. Childish on his part, he supposed, but it was late and he was tired after a depressing day.
But before leaving, she turned to face him. “Just remember one thing from what I’ve said, Gary. She’ll fuck with your head if you give her a chance. And it’s the only fuck you’ll ever get from her.”
A dramatic way to leave, he thought. But no matter how angry she’d been, rushing upstairs wearing only a dressing gown and slippers took some thinking about. Even if what she said was true, Maria wasn’t the only sister playing games with his mind.
He felt too tired to ring Maria tonight, he’d ring her tomorrow, if at all.
Chapter Six
Early on Sunday morning, he was surprised to find a strange-looking girl standing at his door. Despite her previous bravado, Debbie stood stripped of make-up and with her dark hair tied back in a ponytail. Little Miss Modesty herself. “Are you ready?” she said. “Maz hates people being late.” She wore a dark skirt to the knee, and under her light jacket, he saw a frilly white blouse cut high at the neck.
It struck him how much she resembled a school ma’am from one of the old-fashioned Hollywood westerns, and he wondered whether to compliment her on the likeness. Best not, as he suspected it wasn’t her choice. She gave him a brief inspection too, nodding her approval. He’d chosen a light jacket over a white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, assuming it would be a hot day.
“You’ll do,” she said finally. “Come on, I’ll give you final directions once we reach Southport.”
Turning, she hurried him down the few steps to the door leading outside, and to his surprise, she led him straight to his car without asking. He decided not to comment as she didn’t look in a talkative mood. But after jumping into the passenger seat, she sat back in satisfaction. “A nice car,” she said.
“I like it.” He detected a faint aroma of an aromatic scent; some things were obviously still allowed in her church.
“What do you do for a living?” she asked.
“I’m a pharmaceutical rep.”
She smiled for the first time. “A sort of drug dealer?”
“Not really.” It was only the tenth time he’d heard it this year.
“Do you like the job?”
He slowed in the action of leaving the yard, and considered the question. “I’m my own boss to some extent, so yes. And this comfortable car comes with the job.”
“No big office or factory to visit?”
“Not often,” he said. “Mainly GP practices.”
She nodded. “A loner, driving around in this nice car and listening to your own thoughts.” Her smile widened. “I can see why Maz might fall for you.”
“I usually put on the radio.”
“A real good-time guy.”
Something had put her in a bad mood, and she was taking it on him. Unless she was still sulking about Tuesday evening. He’d ignore her and hope she cheered up.
She stared for a moment. “Still,” she said. “You’re not really my sort.” Her friendly smile failed to take the edge off her remark.
“Who is?”
She settled down in her seat. “I’ve a craving for excitement,” she said. “Something Maz hates.”
“So why do you go to …?” He hesitated, unsure how to phrase the question.
“The church?” she smiled again, her mood gradually lightening. “It can be exciting. Who knows, you may discover that.”
“Today?”
“I doubt it,” he said. “Having a visitor means they’ll be on their best behaviour. Definitely no speaking in tongues”
“Or prophesising?”
“No,” she said firmly. “Maria’s learned to soft-pedal that.” When she looked away, her smile had died. “I find female bodies have more appeal than male ones.”
“Oh?”
“Do you?”
He wondered what had brought this on. “I suppose so.”
She watched him carefully as he turned onto the main road and he wondered what was coming. “Why would you bother with a man unless he’s exceptional,” she said, continuing to stare. He tended to agree but decided not to say anything, she was in a funny mood this morning.
“Unless they have a ten-inch dick,” she said, l
eaning closer. “Do you?”
He kept his face straight, suspecting she wanted to shock him; like a child experimenting with naughty words. Something else that ran in her family. But like her clothes, it was probably bravado that faded when push came to shove. But for someone around thirty years of age, she’d somehow managed to sidestep any signs of maturity. “No,” he said. “More like ten centimetres.”
She laughed out loud. “I like you,” she said. “An honest man, a man who parades his modesty.”
“I wasn’t planning on parading anything.”
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on an audition for you.” She squeezed his upper arm gently before looking away. “But Maz is right about me,” she continued. “I test people out, but it’s mostly talk. All fur coat and no knickers, isn’t that what they say around here?”
He nodded.
“It’s true,” she said. “I keep my knickers firmly in place unless it’s the right person.” She paused for a few seconds.” You know, Maria may be right about you.” She sounded serious for the first time.
“We’ll see,” he said, deciding to ignore the compliment and concentrate on what he’d come for. The ideal scenario would be to meet a congregation with potentially itchy feet – that way, he’d feel confident about his original verdict. Then he could reinforce it and be gone.
She turned away, looking bored. “Maria is bright, you know. Underneath all that other stuff.”
“I never said she wasn’t.”
“As long as you know.”
“I do.”
“She finds it difficult to make friends. In fact, she finds socialising a trial best avoided. The fact that she’s fixated on you could be the saving of her.” When she checked to see his reaction, he kept his face straight and said nothing. “Regular patterns help. I know her better than she knows herself. She needs someone predictable.” Leaning closer, she lowered her voice. “When I told her, I’d confronted you on Tuesday night she blew a fuse. Really, really angry. That’s why I wasn’t down borrowing a cup of sugar and all that neighbourly stuff.” Although she gave a light laugh, she wasn’t amused. “You must be a bit of a hermit,” she continued. “That’s why I’ve not seen you around.”
“Do you always do what Maria tells you?” he asked. “You must respect her.”
“It’s not respect,” she said. “You can’t spend respect.”
“Money?” He couldn’t stop the doubt in his voice.
“Mind you own business.” The friendly tone had disappeared. He’d irritated her by not behaving as she wanted.
That could explain her touchy mood this morning, she wasn’t a girl who liked following orders. Being ordered around by her more serious sister made her revert to stroppy-teenager mode. Plus, Maria’s presumption he was a babe-magnet, capable of picking Debbie up if he so desired, would anger this girl even more. She’d feel the need to show she had no interest whatsoever in him - sibling rivalry with a vengeance.
“She can’t stop me warning you though,” she said suddenly.
He nodded but said nothing.
“Gary?” she asked, her voice calmer.
“Why would you want to warn me?” he asked.
“Because you’re soft and you don’t realise how soft you are by comparison with my sister. She’s much harder than you believe.” After a short silence, she looked away and began to fiddle with the radio controls, listening briefly as she played with the channels before snapping the radio off with a final flourish. “Have you any family nearby?” she asked.
She sounded as if she’d reverted to bored-teenager mode now. “They’re scattered all over the UK,” he said.
“Parents still alive?”
“No,” he said. “Parents and grandparents died relatively young. I come from a mayfly family.”
Her smile returned. “We’ve something in common then.”
It reminded him he knew very little about them; if he encouraged her chatter, he might learn more. But she lapsed into silence, and only when they left Formby behind, did she spring to life again, her sulk forgotten. “Keep to the coast road,” she said. “We’ll be there soon.”
It was only then, he realised he’d given this morning’s task little thought. What was he supposed to do? Unlike Maria, he couldn’t look at people and sense a wrong ‘un. The only undercurrent he’d pick up is if he went swimming in the Mersey. That, and possibly dysentery, despite the city’s protestations that the water was crystal clear. He could wing it today and hope he could convince Maria she was mistaken, before retiring with a clear conscience. If nothing else, he’d given her sister a lift to communion. “Is Maria waiting for us?” he asked.
“For sure,” she said. “She never misses.”
He turned to her. “Why is she so worried about these disappearances?”
After a quick glance at him, she stared straight ahead. “Because the people disappearing are young and female.”
“Do you believe it?”
She thought carefully before answering. “I think you’re right to be dismissive. People do move on, but it seems very selective.”
“I see,” he said. “Does she think this Keith is running an underground brothel?”
She began laughing, a loud throaty sound that echoed around. “My God, that is genuinely funny. Keith?”
“What then, embezzlement?”
“Did Maria say that?”
“No, but it’s always a possibility.”
“What’s that to do with people disappearing?” she asked, but she didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s possibly Maria’s subliminal fear of sex. To her, it’s a dangerous and wild emotion, dark and uncontrolled. The lack of control terrifies her.”
“What about her premonitions?” he asked. “How accurate are they?”
“Superficially good,” she said. “Sometimes too good it’s worrying. But other times …” She gave a brief shrug. “Despite my private doubts, I don’t dismiss them offhand.” She sighed and not until they entered Southport, did she speak again. “Keep going until I tell you to stop,” she said before giving him a searching look. “She believes in saving herself,” she said. “The longer you wait, the better the taste. Delayed gratification, I suppose.”
When he didn’t answer, she gave an odd smile. “You can forget about any premature gratification at all,” she said. “Your animal needs won’t be catered for.”
He’d already guessed that, even if Debbie herself remained an enigma. Was she lesbian, bisexual or heterosexual? She had strongly hinted at the first. Although it was none of his business, he’d have gone for the heterosexual option. But admitting that would be too tame for this girl, she’d prefer the more glamorous choice. As he was now off-limits, it didn’t matter anyway.
To his surprise, Debbie guided him through Southport without any more challenging conversation, and only on the way out did she peer forward and point at a rambling single-storey building. “That’s it,” she said, “Go around to the back.”
Following her directions, he parked beside a short row of vehicles. Mostly new models and very expensive.
When she jumped from the car, he followed her into what seemed a converted barn. Chairs placed in short rows half-filled the room, and about forty people milled around at the front. As he’d guessed, many were young, female, but modestly dressed. OK, he might be a philistine and a sexist, but flashing more flesh would look normal in the summer warmth. They could be a cross-section of the more prosperous section of Southport society, even if the accents suggested a more cosmopolitan group.
Spotting Maria, he gave a quick wave and she motioned them to where she stood with a tall, white-haired man in a short, white vestment. “This is Pastor Wilson,” she said as they approached. A man closer to seventy than sixty, he thought. “I’ve explained you’re a visitor,” she said breathlessly and pressed her hands in his, her eyes gleaming. He felt guilty, she was clearly excited, and eager to please. And that girlish enthusiasm gave her a look he’d not noticed pre
viously.
Shaking the man’s hand, he found a firm grip. “Pleased to meet you,” he said. “You’re the second recruit we’ve had this year. Leaning forward he looked closely into Gary’s eyes, “If you’re a friend of Maria’s, you’re a friend of ours. Did she say she has the gift of prophesy? Only in a small way, but it’s a precious gift.”
“I do know.” Gary could see why Keith made a good congregation leader. A lined face with piercing yet gentle eyes, he had an almost hypnotic and soothing voice. After taking Gary’s arm, he led him to where a man in his mid-thirties waited to one side. “Perhaps you’d like to compare notes with our other new boy,” Keith suggested. “He’s been here nearly four months but claims he’s still enjoying himself.”
Gary frowned in surprise. The man facing him was a friend, the man Sophie had suggested he take with him to meet Maria - Raif, the scally intellectual. “Hi,” the man said. “Fancy meeting you here.” He looked suspiciously at Gary, clearly taken by surprise too
“About the last person I expected to see,” Gary said to him when the tall pastor returned to the others, taking Maria with him. She’d been right on one thing, he decided, something was definitely wrong - this man was totally out of place. “I didn’t realise you were a Pentecostal,” he said. “I didn’t even guess you were a Christian.”
Raif smiled and lowered his voice. “It’s a mixture of business and pleasure,” he said. “I’ve not converted to any religion, but I came expecting a source of gullible people and hopefully, a glut of attractive and available young women.”
Gary froze. Was he serious? Gullible, he might accept, but available? If Maria was typical and Debbie the exception, Raif was talking bollocks. His presence didn’t ring true unless he’d developed religious convictions that he was ashamed of, and that seemed unlikely.