“Wow! I’m moving in,” she exclaimed, dropping her school bag on the floor of the corridor. Amelia picked it up and put it on the stairs.
“Sorry,” said Rayn. “I didn’t think.”
“That’s okay,” said Amelia. “It takes some getting used to, I suppose. But I’m afraid different rules apply with the disabled.”
“It must be annoying for your mum when someone does that,” Rayn said.
“Oh, it’s not mum I’m worried about,” said Amelia. “It’s just that if she sees it in her way she’ll run over it and shred it. That chair’s like a battle tank.”
“Are you sure she’s your mother and not mine? Or is the whole world crazy?” shouted Rayn.
As they went into the shower room Lucy heard her daughter’s reply. “Well, you know what they say, ‘in the world of the witless, the halfwit rules. I’ll leave you to it then, take your time.” And went upstairs in search of her tracksuit.
***
As Bridie Mgee walked into ‘Heaven Scent’, Tether’s End village flower shop she was wondering what her daughter had got her into this time. A pretty, well-dressed woman was sitting in a wheelchair next to a large display of wrapped bouquets, each one a work of art. Bridie guessed her to be about her own age – late thirties early forties, but her view was partially blocked by a tall, thin man in a black suit who stood with his back to Bridie.
“If Mrs Atkinson could pick them up about nine o’clock tomorrow,” he was saying. “Would that be all right?”
“Yes of course, any time,” smiled the woman, in an articulate and educated voice. The woman looked toward Bridie. “I’ll be with you in a moment. You must be Rayn’s mother?”
“You noticed the hair then,” said Bridie with a grin. The two women locked eyes and Bridie felt as if she had just reached the end of a very long journey. Lucy was trying to control the grin on her face. Apart from that there was no indication they’d ever met before.
The man turned and Bridie saw the white clerical collar he was wearing. Her intuition told her that he was much older than he looked and that he had adapted his behaviour and language to that younger age. Her ability to see through people had been developed through the many years she’d spent as a gypsy traveller, living on the fringes of legality and dealing with all types of deception.
She felt sorry for him. He had obviously discovered the bigotry and corruption that seemed to be endemic in all walks of life, but he looked to have adapted well and was confident with it.
He smiled, gave her a nod and turned back to the woman. Bridie recognised the move. He needed to work out who and what this red headed stranger was to enable him to adopt a style that would appeal to her.
“Now,” he said to Lucy. “You must pop over to the church tomorrow, after the wedding, and see how good Mrs Atkinson is at the flower arranging. She’s quite amazing, what with her arthritis.”
“I doubt it, Vicar,” Lucy smiled. “Saturday is very busy, and I’m really not fond of weddings.”
“Well,” he replied, “perhaps Sunday then?” His voice rose slightly on the word Sunday to emphasise its significance. Bridie could detect that Lucy’s smile was under pressure, but she remained silent.
“I told you Vicar,” she replied and indicated the surroundings. “This is my church; my customers are my congregation and the only thing I worship is my daughter.”
The vicar smiled and, not recognising defeat, continued. “Hmm, well, perhaps one day. Just getting you through the door would be a minor success.”
“Vicar, you don’t even have a ramp, and I’m supposed to be Catholic.”
“Oh come on Mrs. Jaxson, we’re in the twenty-first century now. The churches are almost one big happy family.”
Bridie felt the lie like a physical pain, remembering her early years with her naive and pointless work for the IRA, all in the name of religion and so called patriotism.
“I’m still working on that ramp.” The Vicar responded, oblivious to the rising hackles his conversation had inspired, “But my people want to put one at the back door. That’s not a very good idea, is it?”
“Positive discrimination,” Lucy accused. Her smile had faded but her face was holding its own.
“They certainly don’t seem to be aware of their responsibilities,” responded the vicar, agreeing with her. “There was one other thing, while I’m here, Mrs Jaxson,” he continued.
“What’s the problem, Vicar?” the woman asked warily.
Bridie cringed inside as she began to recognise how good this man was. After carefully initiating an atmosphere of sympathy for his ‘struggle against his people’, he had pressed the right buttons and moved in to take the advantage. And this woman was walking right into it.
“Well, I was wondering if next Saturday – after you’ve closed, of course – you could let me have any old stock you may be throwing out.”
“Next Saturday is Halloween. What are you up to now, Vicar?” asked the woman.
Bridie, who’d been standing quietly listening to the conversation (with a secret admiration for the vicar’s polished performance) had become intrigued.
“Well, I thought I’d spruce the church up a bit. I’m holding a little service and a concert to…er…you know…” he looked a little sheepish as he went on, “to make a show of fighting off the demons, or something.” Bridie was glad she hadn’t intervened to get the woman off the hook. She smiled to herself and wondered where this was going.
“You’re going to celebrate Halloween?” exclaimed Lucy, trying not to laugh.
“No,” he said quickly. “Oh, I know Halloween is just a bit of fun, but you never know, do you? I just thought we could have a bit of fun making a show of fighting back. What do you think?”
Bridie couldn’t help laughing out loud. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Vicar,” she said, “but I think the demons have already won.”
Lucy laughed, grateful for the respite. The vicar was at a loss for words and to hide his embarrassment she quickly interjected. “Okay, Vicar. It will give me a chance to have a good clear out ready for Christmas, as long as you don’t mind what you get.”
“No, no, that would be… er… great, great,” he blustered. The intervention of this tall, red-headed woman had thrown him. He made some attempt to reorganise his thoughts and regain the initiative.
“Right,” Lucy continued. “If you can get someone over here a week on Saturday, about four o’clock, we’ll close early. And yes, I’ll put an advertisement for your event in the window. What’s the entertainment, by the way?”
“The choir from the local primary school are singing, and I’ve provisionally booked the Warem Down Comprehensive, if I can get transport.”
“Vicar, book your bus and send me the bill, and you can have all the flowers I can manage. Okay?”
“Oh, thank you Mrs Jaxson. I don’t know what to say.”
“That must be a first,” Lucy replied. They all laughed, though the vicar was flustered and unsettled. He shook hands with Bridie, leaned across the wheelchair and kissed Lucy on the cheek, shook hands with Bridie again and left, muttering, “Bless you, bless you, bless you,” over and over again.
Well, I’m damned! He got exactly what he wanted, but he sure didn’t like losing, thought Bridie. Holding the door open for him.
Bridie said something to him, she was smiling and seemed quite friendly. Lucy couldn’t hear what she said but she saw the reaction. The reverend West’s face froze just for a moment. Saying nothing he peered at Bridie with fresh eyes then turned to look directly at Lucy. Those fresh eyes seemed to go right through her and the half smile he released was full of some obscure triumph, as if he’d just found an important piece of a puzzle. Lucy’s heart sank as Bridie closed the door behind him.
“That was an expensive visit,” said Lucy, quickly regaining her composure and redesigning the conversation, “but I had to get rid of him. He’s a pleasant enough guy, but a bit devious. Actually, he’s a pain in the neck, but I have to
go along with him. We get an awful lot of business through the local church.”
“You saw it coming then?” said Bridie, relieved.
“Oh yes. It costs me every time he walks through the door. Oh well,” sighed Lucy.
“Anyway, I’m Bridie Mgee and I think you’ve kidnapped my daughter, again.”
“Lucy Jaxson. It’s nice to meet you again, too. Belfast University Hospital wasn’t it? I was on a course there and you were carrying some bullet holes and a baby if I remember. I think the girls are in the shower at the moment.”
“Together?” exclaimed Bridie.
Lucy gave a shrug, palms up. “I shouldn’t think so, knowing Amelia. But don’t worry, it’s a big walk-in shower, there’s plenty of room. Come on through. Oh, could you flip the closed sign over and push the bolt? I’ve had enough for today.”
“I must compliment you on this display,” said Bridie. “It’s absolutely stunning. How do you get the colours so bright? The fragrance hits you as you walk through the door.”
“Well,” said Lucy, “it’s mostly smoke and mirrors. I am, after all, a botanist, not to mention a micro biologist as well, so I have some secrets, plus a little magic.”
Lucy led her through the double doors into the house. She turned right and powered her way down the long corridor. “Whoa!” called Bridie in a bid to catch up.
“Sorry,” said Lucy. “This way,” they passed the stairwell and turned left into the sitting room.
Bridie was surprised at the size of the house. It hadn’t looked so big from the front. She remarked on it and Lucy explained.
“This old shack is falling to pieces. There’s only one usable room upstairs and Amelia’s in there. This part looks small against that huge arch with double doors and the building next to it. That’s where the old coaches used to pull in. There’s a huge stable round the back but Amelia’s got that done out as a gym. The building on the other side of the arch is the old tap room and what’s left of a waiting room. It’s all unusable now and not worth fixing up.”
“I know the feeling.” Bridie joked.
The living room was long but widened out at the far end into a dining room. Bridie saw a dining table larger than her and Rayn’s entire caravan living space.
The table had only five seats, leaving one end free for Lucy’s chair. A flat screen television adorned one wall; another one boasted an overloaded bookcase and several potted plants that blended well with the quiet, tasteful decor. Under the larger window stood a large music centre with the largest speakers Bridie had ever seen. The shelves were full to over flowing with vinyl records and hundreds of CDs, all of classical music. Bridie offered up a silent prayer that she and Rayn could avoid the potential threat to their sanity.
As she sat down, Bridie noticed a large ashtray on the table. “If you want to smoke, Lucy, don’t mind me,” she said. “I like the odd cigar now and then, so Rayn won’t mind either.”
“Oh, thank God,” replied Lucy, and she rummaged in the bag on the side of her chair. Lighting up a cigarette after Bridie’s polite rejection, she sat back. “Can’t smoke in the shop and I was dying for this. Amelia nags me and keeps trying to hide them. But what the hell? I’m half dead already,” she said, looking down at her legs.
Bridie noticed that the cultured voice had slipped a bit. “I can’t imagine what it must be like,” she replied. “I don’t recall the wheelchair. What happened?”
Lucy gave that palms-up shrug. “Luck of the draw,” she replied. “Car accident.”
“Oh,” said Bridie. “When was that?”
“About twelve years ago now,” Lucy answered, not seeming to mind the questions.
“Did you have the shop then?”
“No, I’d finished all my degrees and was married with a little girl, everything was great. Then…Whack! All over.” Lucy didn’t seem bitter in any way, so Bridie decided to press ahead
“Where’s your husband now?”
“He didn’t survive the crash,” said Lucy softly.
“Oh, I’m so sorry Lucy. I’m upsetting you. Me and my big mouth…” said Bridie, mortified by her own lack of discretion.
“No. It’s okay, too long ago now. You know, most people avoid the subject, but it’s good to talk about it sometimes. It probably depends on the mood I’m in. But right now, thank you for asking.” Lucy smiled at Bridie in gratitude.
“You actually started this business after all that?” Bridie decided to press on, after all, the last time they’d met it had been through a haze of anaesthetic and sedation.
“Yes. It was amazing. There I was, shattered, literally, when my old university gave me a job doing research. I stuck it for a couple of years, but I couldn’t get into it again. Then the insurance money turned up. It wasn’t a fortune, but it certainly solved some problems.”
“So, what happened then?” prompted Bridie.
“The old guy down the road fixed a problem with my chair and we got on really well. Old George, we call him. He said I must make use of my degrees and suggested buying this place. It was already a flower shop so everything just fell into place. He taught me about the retail trade, how to run a business. But most importantly he helped revive my interest in my bioresearch again. He was invaluable, never stopped working. He made all the display units and even used to take Amelia for walks and picnics. You must meet him. He’s the nicest, kindest man I’ve ever met. Amelia calls him Granddad. He likes that.”
Bridie smiled, but said nothing. She’d met many ‘nicest kindest’ in her time.
“I’m sorry for rambling on like this,” Lucy continued in an effort to change the subject slightly. “You’ve done a great job with Rayn, she’s terrific, and I’m sorry about the circumstances that brought us together originally. I was so grateful you agreed to the process we outlined for you. I only hope it was worth it.”
“Worth it,” exclaimed Bridie, “Apart from the fact that you saved both our lives’ just look at her. She’s never had a day’s illness in her life, the figure of a natural athlete and a mind I was hard pressed to keep up with when I was teaching her. We’re the ones who should be grateful, and that’s without the small but steady income you’re people provided. It kept us just above the poverty level without being noticed. I assume Amelia is..?”
“Oh yes.” Replied Lucy, “Much more than I expected. You know she’s always going to be a little bit ahead of Rayn, we had several years to prepare and it wasn’t a life or death decision. Anyway, more importantly I’m glad Amelia’s found a friend. She’s not popular at school and she doesn’t get much of a social life, what with the shop and me. It’s taken a long time to reach this stage, I do hope it works.”
“Well if it doesn’t, the good Doctor has wasted an awful lot of time and money,” commented Bridie.
“You’re right’,” responded Lucy, “It might be better if we stick to the original plan, and I think it would be best if we maintain the idea we’ve only just met, at least until they’re ready, which won’t be for a couple of years, okay?”
Bridie nodded in agreement.
Chapter Four
The two women were interrupted by the crash of the bathroom door being ripped open and shrieks of laughter as the two girls bounded into the living room, faces red from the steam and the heat, it was the first time they had been warm all day. Amelia, very shy about nudity had showered behind the curtain in response to Rayn’s refusal to leave the warm room. When they finally emerged Amelia was in her grubby tracksuit while Rayn sported a huge white fluffy towel.
“Hi Mum,” said Rayn. “This is Amelia, my friend.”
“Hello Mrs Mgee, I hope all this is all right with you,” said Amelia, pleasantly.
Bridie stood up, walked over to Amelia and looked down into her face. Amelia looked terrified. “Let’s get one thing straight from the start,” she said sternly. “My name is Bridie.” She gave Amelia a hug and a smile and she knew she was in the right place. “Come on Rayn,” she said. “I’ve brought yo
u some clean clothes, so get dressed and we can leave these good people in peace.”
“We can’t go, we’re staying to dinner,” answered her daughter.
“What?” Bridie looked at Lucy, who just gave a smile and her familiar open-palmed shrug.
“Amelia and I decided. We’re going to cook,” insisted Rayn.
“After we’ve cleaned the kitchen,” said Amelia, remembering the state it had been in that morning.
“You’re okay,” said Lucy. “Molly got stuck in this afternoon as we weren’t very busy. You may have trouble finding things, though.”
Bridie and Rayn jumped in surprise at the sharp knocking on the shop window.
“Sorry, that’s my physio, Mrs Orugo. Will you let her in please, Amelia?”
“Grab your clothes, you can get changed in my room,” said Amelia. “Up the stairs, left and it’s on your left.”
Mrs Orugo was big. Not fat, just big. With wide muscular shoulders and huge hands. She was from West Africa and really looked the part of a physiotherapist in her dark blue uniform.
“Sorry I’m early, Mrs Jaxson.” She spoke in a voice that left little room for objection. “Its football on telly for him tonight and it’s my turn to cook dinner. Can’t be late home. You know how he likes his football. I do hope it’s not cancelled. That storm is ready for another round tonight.”
“That’s all right, Mrs Orugo. We can make it quick tonight,” said Lucy, hopefully.
“We’ll do it quick and we’ll do it right,” Mrs Orugo said firmly.
“Damn!” Lucy said under her breath as she prepared herself for a rough time and moved off to her room at the other end of the hall. Rayn went upstairs and Amelia dived into the kitchen.
Bridie sat there alone. She was totally bewildered. Having lost control of the situation, she couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong, and why everything was going so well. She sighed, pulled a cigarette from Lucy’s packet, lit it, inhaled deeply and leaned back in her chair. I’m going to like this, she thought to herself. These people are so nice, not at all what I expected. And they’re as crazy as me and Rayn!”
The Chrysalid Conspiracy Page 5