The Crocodile Masquerade

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The Crocodile Masquerade Page 9

by Quig Shelby


  The frames were tortoise shell and sat well with his grey hair. He looked like a UN peace ambassador; both authoritative and understanding.

  Bheki was standing in Noah’s upmarket pawn shop, but old Noah wasn’t just a gold and gems kind of guy. He knew his African art. Shame he didn’t see much of the real thing, until today that was.

  ‘Naturally you would like to know the value. But first let me ask you, where is the other half?’

  ‘I wish I knew,’ said Bheki.

  ‘Shame.’

  Bheki looked dejected.

  ‘Now don’t look too sad, this is still an excellent piece, probably worth around 15K to the right collector.’

  Bheki was pleased, although instantly knew the pair would have fetched a much higher sum.

  ‘And the pair?’ she asked.

  ‘At least ten times as much, possibly even more.’

  When she had recovered her breath she thanked Noah, and got ready to leave.

  ‘By the way Jimmy’s on his way. He asked me to call if you ever showed your face,’ said Noah.

  Jimmy was Noah’s godson, and still believed he was Bheki’s suitor. Which was kind of unfortunate since Joost was on the scene. Sure enough in the past she had kept one pot on the boil whilst cooking up another, but Jimmy had pushed dislike to nauseating. And now the only thing allowed to make her flesh crawl were horror movies.

  ‘Sorry Noah but I’ve got to dash. Tell him to phone.’

  ‘You going to take his call this time?’

  ‘Sure.’

  And she quickly joined the crowds outside. But she did hit upon a delectable plan. Why not let Jimmy and Joost slug it out? If Joost did the damage she could admire him, and if he lost then he was despicable. Either way she’d want to screw him. Eudy was right she was incomprehensible.

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘Everyone behave, he’s outside,’ said Bheki.

  She was referring to Joost, and Eudy looked out of the window.

  ‘He hasn’t got two horns at all,’ said Eudy mischievously.

  ‘I just said he was a little eccentric, that’s all,’ said Bheki.

  ‘Right,’ replied Eudy.

  ‘Hey you guys, shouldn’t we invite him up?’ asked Themba.

  ‘I’m not ready,’ said Bheki.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get him,’ said Eudy ‘can’t have you not looking your best,’ and she rolled her eyes.

  ‘Themba take all those plates into the kitchen,’ said Bheki looking out from the bedroom, where she was applying the last of her makeup.

  Joost arrived hot on Eudy’s heels.

  ‘Drink?’ she asked.

  ‘As long as we won’t be late,’ said Joost.

  He guessed all eyes would be upon him, and didn’t want to stand out even more.

  ‘We have plenty of time,’ said Eudy ‘and you can tell us all about yourself.’

  ‘Eudy,’ shouted Bheki from the bedroom ‘just let the poor man relax.’

  ‘OK Tendai,’ said Eudy.

  But then she put her hand to her mouth, realising what she had said.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Bheki ‘he knows. But try and stick to Bheki.’

  Eudy looked relieved.

  ‘Hi I’m Themba, Eudy’s husband.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you Themba,’ said Joost as they shook hands.

  Themba was wearing a suit, as was Joost, but Bheki had a surprise for him. The tie wasn’t the only thing she’d taken from his wardrobe that evening, she’d also clocked his size, and had a brand new suit laid out for him on the bed. She really was making it difficult for him to run away, although after Paris it was the last thing on his mind.

  Bheki joined them as Themba was flicking through his Bible. He underscored a verse with his finger, and then suddenly closed the book as though he had received a revelation.

  ‘Thank you Lord for bringing Joost amongst us, and I’m sure this evening, with your guidance, will be a fruitful one,’ said Themba.

  Joost was wondering if he should say a few words of friendship and comfort, but Bheki ushered him into the bedroom just as he put down his tea.

  ‘What do you think?’ she said pointing to the suit sprawled on the bed.

  He was more than a little surprised, not least because he knew Bheki didn’t earn a fortune. Then again she obviously found the money to spend on her own upmarket wardrobe.

  Part of Joost knew he was getting in deeper, and he was scared. But with the good grace in which it was offered he replied ‘fantastic,’ and gave her a peck on the cheek.

  Joost quickly changed, smiled at his Parisian caricature on the wall, and joined the others. The suit was charcoal grey, woollen, single vented, and un-creased; unlike his faded and threadbare navy blue suit.

  They drove in Themba’s car to Pastor Goodyear’s charismatic church. Now Joost had never been particularly religious, but there was obviously something out there; he just hoped it wasn’t the gods that Dela worshipped.

  The doors were open when they arrived at the hall, and something told Joost a lot more worshippers were expected. There were a few other white people present, and he wasn’t the novelty he had expected. Although Bheki noticed he caught the roving eye of quite a few women. She hooked her arm underneath his.

  Pastor Goodyear was treading the boards on the stage up front like an old pro. It had to be him, his face was pictured everywhere; on the booklets for sale as you walked in, on the huge banner that hung above the stage, and even on the bottles of miracle water they were selling on the table at the back.

  The seats behind them, and in front, were quickly filling, and there was a hushed excitement. Joost hadn’t been to church in years, but he’d never seen it like this - and this was a midweek evening. It was almost like a funfair; laughter, youth, and families.

  The good pastor was short and stocky, a barrel of a man, who in his star spangled waistcoat could be mistaken from a distance for a clockwork penguin. But when he spoke the tone was hypnotic; lush with emotion and feeling. Soothing and searching at the same time. It was easy to see why the chairs were full.

  Joost shuffled uneasily in his seat as the pastor’s gaze fell upon him. There was a familiarity in his eye, as though he knew who Joost was. And then in a blink those same eyes seemed to bore right into his very soul. Someone handed Pastor Abel Goodyear the microphone.

  ‘Heal us oh Lord, anoint us with your Holy Spirit, guide and protect us, and deliver us from sin,’ said the good pastor to his flock.

  Several of the congregation began to speak in tongues, and someone from the front row threw themselves to the ground wailing. They were gathered in a church hall previously abandoned, but now like most of the congregation it had been saved.

  Those less moved were clasping their Bibles and praying. Some prayed for their own deliverance, others for a relative or a friend. Pastor Goodyear prayed for everyone.

  Joost joined the singing that followed with a little evangelical spirit, and in spite of the overhead projector illuminating the words he could only bring himself to whisper. Bheki rubbed his arm both to offer support, and to acknowledge his efforts.

  It was inevitable, at least to Joost, that the pastor would single him out for a brief talk. It therefore came as something of a shock when he was overlooked, as the pastor made his way through the milling throng for the intercession. Still at least Joost had the chance to whisper a few ribald suggestions in Bheki’s ear. It was something along the lines of ‘let us go forth and multiply’.

  Someone called the ‘singing preacher’ took to the stage, and unsurprisingly sang, during which copies of his CD were offered for sale, as were booklets of the pastor’s journey, philosophy, and revelations. The bottled blessed and cure all water did raise Joost’s eyebrows a little, but it was all in
a good cause, and he’d thrown his money away on much more sinful activities. Bheki was delighted when he queued all of fifteen minutes to get them some bottles. When he got back Themba was missing.

  ‘He’s been chosen to help the pastor,’ said Eudy beaming with pride.

  And when the pastor did return to his adoring fans Themba was five paces behind carrying his holy book. It was time for the sermon - after the offerings.

  Pastor’s voice was that soothing to Joost it was sending him to sleep. He disguised the matter, or so he hoped, by leaning forwards and pretending to pray.

  Near the end everyone seemed to dash towards to the stage. The pastor was muttering in some archaic language, and touching people’s heads. Some of them were falling backwards having been touched by a higher power. Joost, who was a tad sceptical, wanted to know what all the fuss was about.

  Finally he was in the front row, and received his blessing. He felt nothing, although the guy next to him would have hit the ground like a rock, had he not been caught by two attendants.

  Bheki was smiling when he returned to his seat beside her.

  ‘Will you come again Joost?’ asked Themba as they put on their coats.

  ‘Let me think about it,’ replied Joost.

  There was a look of disappointment on Bheki’s face.

  Midnight and still no one wanted to leave Bheki’s flat. Themba was discussing Africa’s future with Joost, whilst Bheki and Eudy were going over the Bible passages from Pastor Goodyear’s sermon.

  ‘You haven’t told me what you do,’ said Joost.

  ‘I’m an accounts assistant,’ replied Themba.

  Themba was too embarrassed to say he was unemployed, especially with Bheki making Joost look like some high powered businessman; which couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact the whole operation was propped up by Dilwood’s dirty cash. Joost had never got to grips with the agency, with his head often in the clouds on drugs, or between some hookers legs.

  ‘He’s looking for a job,’ said Eudy, more concerned with practicalities than pretensions.

  ‘Well?’ said Bheki looking at Joost.

  Joost paused for a moment, losing himself in Bheki’s beautiful lips.

  ‘We do need a new office assistant, especially to process timesheets and invoices.’

  ‘I could do that,’ said Themba.

  ‘Is Monday too early to start?’ asked Joost.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Themba.

  Good things really did come from Pastor Goodyear’s church.

  ‘What’s the pay?’ asked Eudy.

  ‘Two hundred a week, cash in hand,’ said Joost.

  ‘Make it three hundred,’ said Bheki.

  ‘OK,’ said Joost holding his hands up.

  Themba and Eudy smiled.

  ‘Bheki can I have a quick word,’ said Joost.

  ‘Of course,’ and she ushered him into the bedroom expecting to be told off but Joost just looked at the statue.

  ‘That’s a great present from your grandma, Akuaa Mathebula.’

  Bheki was dumbfounded. Not least because the pronunciation was correct.

  ‘Well I never. Perhaps there’s more to you than I thought Joost van Houten.’

  She closed the door, and kneeling gave him what he’d prayed for.

  Eventually Themba and Joost had to tear themselves away.

  ‘See you Monday,’ Joost shouted after Themba.

  Back at his flat Joost went to pour a large scotch, but as he touched the bottle he could feel an energy surging through his head, and his body was shaking. He sat down with his knees knocking. Was it Pastor Goodyear he wondered?

  Chapter Twenty One

  He could see Barbara from his small fishing boat, above the chalk cliffs as he rowed further out to sea. She was hanging out the washing, and making everything clean.

  For company he had the remains from the cave, neatly bagged and weighed down with bricks. He hauled them over the side without a prayer, but the victim would have plenty of company down below.

  Bill had been a merchant seaman for most of his life. Whether or not he’d had a girl in every port Barbara never knew, but he’d always came back to her.

  Retiring to The Crossed Heart their thoughts had turned to the afterlife. Barbara had never been a churchgoer whilst Bill had sailed the seven seas. Here he’d encountered the Liberian Augustus Jones, his voodoo teacher. Journeys to Brazil, Haiti, and the west coast of Africa furthered his beliefs; voodoo was a world church.

  Lord Agwe had spared Bill’s life in many a storm, and finally washed his soul upon the shores of Bishopsfield. He made an offering to his saviour, and gently dropped a piece of rock salt wrapped in blue paper into the sea.

  ‘It’s a real mouthful,’ said Christine in her car with Vankoni. ‘But if I shorten it to Vank it doesn’t sound right.’

  ‘Don’t you have a middle name?’ she asked.

  ‘Chokwe,’ he replied.

  Christine looked bemused.

  ‘But you can call me Koni if you like,’ he said.

  Christine smiled.

  ‘Anyway where are you taking me? I hope it’s not another lecture,’ said Koni.

  ‘Don’t worry we’re going shopping this time.’

  Koni rubbed his forehead.

  ‘It’s all on James’ card. And don’t worry he’s loaded.’

  ‘Inheritance by any chance?’

  ‘How did you know?’ asked Christine.

  ‘Dela told me.’

  Christine elaborated just in case he’d missed some of the detail.

  ‘His father Arthur passed away a few years ago, and left him a fortune. In fact that’s where he first met Felix, at Greenpastures nursing home.’

  ‘And then he fell in love with voodoo?’ asked Koni.

  Dela hadn’t told him everything after all.

  ‘James has always been interested, ever since his days in Africa. So it was natural for him to keep in touch with Felix and Dela. And then of course there was the accident,’ said Christine with a hint of sadness, referring to Lucy.

  ‘And you?’ asked Koni, turning to face her.

  She was plastered in make-up, with bright red lipstick, and her long blonde hair was in a ponytail. She wore black opaque tights with butterfly embroidering, and leather riding boots with buckles like stirrups. James hadn’t batted an eyelid when she’d left the vicarage. Koni however was entranced, and couldn’t help but pull her skirt a little higher.

  ‘You haven’t answered,’ he said.

  Christine’s mind was elsewhere, in the gutter. It had been too long since she’d been a total tramp.

  ‘It was quite simple really,’ she said.

  Simple at least for her, but she paused wondering how she could dumb it down.

  ‘I majored in cosmology but minored in quantum theory,’ she said.

  Koni sighed.

  ‘You did ask,’ said Christine smiling.

  ‘Go on,’ he replied.

  ‘Anyway to cut a long story short, you really can influence something over there by doing something over here, with nothing travelling in between.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said.

  Christine was a little disappointed by his response, but it wasn’t his mind she was after.

  ‘It just vindicates voodoo, that’s all,’ she concluded.

  Fortunately, before Koni started to think he was in class, they arrived at their destination - Wellford.

  Christine parked tightly at the train station between a fence and a Japanese tour bus, although there were plenty of other spaces. Koni reached for the door handle.

  ‘Don’t be in such of a hurry, you haven’t kissed me yet,’ she said.

  They locked lips in sight of the tourists
, who were eating their packed lunch.

  ‘They can see us,’ said Koni.

  ‘Really,’ she replied ‘well in that case we’d better not disappoint them’.

  She undid her safety belt, and put her head on Koni’s lap. When it was completed she checked all eyes were still upon them. and smiled for the cameras.

  ‘Exhilarating isn’t it,’ she said to Koni, flicking back her ponytail.

  He just mumbled.

  With Christine safely out of the way James couldn’t wait to woo Eve with his silver tongue.

  ‘The parishioners love you,’ he told her as they tidied up the altar.

  ‘And what about you James?’ she asked.

  ‘I think you know. Well I think you’re adorable.’

  ‘Really,’ she replied.

  She wasn’t sure what she was saying, or why she felt this way. Only that lately she was irresistibly drawn to him.

  He touched her arm, just like in the dreams she’d been having, and with his hand holding the back of her neck pushed her mouth onto his. She couldn’t resist, wanting him.

  Eve backed onto the altar table, and, after lifting her cassock, James consummated their newest relationship. Dela could work miracles.

  ‘I’ve wanted to give you this for a long time,’ said James.

  ‘I could tell,’ said Eve, smiling.

  ‘No not that, well that as well, but this,’ and he produced a locket from inside his jacket.

  Eve opened it, and saw the red pinkish leather inside.

  ‘It represents my heart,’ said James lying.

  ‘James how sweet; I shall wear it always and it will be our secret, for now.’

  James grinned; now she had no escape, and with the tongue around her neck would dangle on his every word.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  It was throwing it down with rain outside as Joost quickly got dressed. Bheki was, thus far, avoiding his flat and bedroom; she didn’t want a hair out of place when they arrived. She was accompanying him to dinner at Dilwood’s rather palatial residence, an old country mansion.

 

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