by Quig Shelby
The alarm was sounding and Joost stretched out his hand, but Bheki was already in the kitchen whipping up some eggs. She was also wearing his old pyjama top which hung just above her hips and looked devilishly fetching.
‘Let’s see what the weather’s like this morning,’ said Joost in his dressing gown and throwing back the curtains.
‘Strange,’ said Joost ‘I’ve never seen that before, not up here.’
‘What?’ asked Bheki.
‘A cat on the balcony.’
‘Let me see,’ said Bheki, and she just caught sight of the feline before it turned away and jumped out of sight.
They had both seen its stripes before, but only Bheki had been party to the most peculiar set of green eyes.
‘I guess he found a shelter from last night,’ said Joost.
‘How do you know it’s a he?’ asked Bheki.
‘Because he’s not afraid of heights,’ answered Joost.
Bheki playfully bit his ear, which had an immediate arousing affect.
‘Not after last night,’ she said but Joost was back to his old self, and a little rough and tumble helped blow the cobwebs away from both of them.
‘You know I’ve got to get my statue back,’ said Bheki over breakfast.
Joost put more marmalade on his toast.
‘You think you can manage it?’ he asked.
‘Well actually when I say me, I mean you and Themba,’ she said, and as though she was just asking him to take out the rubbish.
Joost poured more tea for them both.
‘It’s worth a pretty penny when put with the other,’ she said.
‘Pairs always bring more pleasure when put together,’ said Joost, and licking his lips for good measure.
She was just as beautiful first thing in the morning.
Joost was still contemplating the proposal, when Bheki decided to give him the bitter truth.
‘You do know the agency is doomed don’t you.’
Joost nodded.
First Vankoni, then Dilwood; both in Dela’s murderous circle. It looked like they were in a fight for their lives, and the idea of involving the police was a non-starter.
‘Don’t look too worried,’ said Bheki rubbing the top of his shaven head ‘at least I know you’re not mad.’
They made an early start with Joost all set for the office, but he had to drop Bheki off first. It was still raining, so he left her waiting in the foyer as he went round the side of the building to the garages.
‘You do know she’s mine don’t you,’ said a menacing voice from the shadows.
Before he could answer there were two thumbs pushing into his throat. Joost cupped his hands together, and struck a blow upwards to free himself. It worked, but he was choking and disorientated; an easy mark for the floor as he was bowled over.
It hardly seemed fair, so before the boot struck his head Joost buried his tactical fountain pen into it again and again. The attacker screamed and fled, hobbling from the scene.
Bheki who’d become impatient just had time to see Joost’s assailant hot foot it.
‘Are you OK?’ asked Bheki helping Joost from the floor.
‘I’ve been better,’ he said ‘then again I’ve been worse. But I’ll have to change.’
He picked up his titanium plated fountain pen, screwed the cap back on, and they returned to his flat passing a singing Rita Templemead on their way up.
‘I’m sorry Bheki but I should have said a long time ago. Dela and her cronies are after you for muti,’ said Joost.
That alone didn’t surprise Bheki, she just never thought it would happen in London.
‘The world’s getting smaller,’ she eventually said.
What she didn’t let on was that far from being Dela’s henchman, Joost’s assailant was her ex-boyfriend Jimmy. Still judging by the look on his face he wouldn’t be back for his engagement ring anytime soon. She’d tell Joost at a more receptive moment - probably when he was screwing her.
Chapter Twenty Four
Twilight had let itself into Bishopsfield, and for one Bonfire’s night at least the skies were clear, although there was a storm brewing on the horizon.
Inside St Agnes sat most of the church committee. Dela was with them, and with no outsiders present James abdicated his authority.
A few hundred yards away was a mountain of chopped wood waiting to be lit. Country folk had travelled from far and wide, and some townies too, to watch the display.
As tradition would have it James and Christine would wheel Guy Fawkes from St Agnes to meet his fate, showing the unity of church and state in condemnation of those who had sought to overthrow the monarchy.
‘Where is she?’ asked Felix.
Gasper Owido looked at his watch, whilst Mr Pandalay sitting next to him looked a little sleepy. Either that or Susie Chang had worn him out.
Finally the door creaked open, it was Gladys, and she looked frozen.
‘Sorry I’m late everyone,’ she said.
‘Not at all,’ said James ‘here let me get you a drink to warm you up.’
‘I’ll get it,’ said Dela. ‘Glady’s take my seat, it’s near the radiator; you look like you need defrosting.’
‘Thanks Dela,’ said Gladys, and trying to stay calm.
‘Where’s Charles?’ she asked.
‘At a farm. Apparently it’s an emergency,’ said Christine.
Vankoni was sitting next to her, and James was oblivious to their body language, or chose to ignore it.
‘And Lucy?’
Lucy was fond of Gladys, and likewise.
‘She’s with my curate Eve on the common. They can’t wait for the fireworks,’ answered James.
‘Slice of cake anyone?’ asked Dilwood.
Christine had baked the most delicious marble cake.
Well everyone seemed alright thought Gladys.
‘I thought you needed a hand?’ she asked Christine.
‘Indeed,’ said James for her ‘but let’s finish our cake first.’
Little Gladys looked almost mouse like as she nibbled on her sponge, and as she drank her tea she felt eyes upon her.
‘You’d better be off,’ said Dela to James ‘and take the traitor with you.’
Bill and Barbara had arrived late, and weren’t quite sure why James ignored the straw Guy on the floor. Instead he went to Gladys.
The look in Gladys’ eye was one of deep sadness. She knew she’d been tricked, but couldn’t even protest, or beg for mercy; Dela had slipped a little something into her tea, and she was paralysed.
‘This isn’t just any ordinary club Gladys, you should have known that,’ said Dela, spitting out the words. ‘You can’t just up and leave when you want.’
Dela was now swinging a cake knife menacingly.
‘Your sorry tongue could have got us all locked up for life, and because of that I’m going to end yours. But not before I take this.’
Dela forced Gladys’ mouth open, and cut out her tongue expertly with one slash; she placed it on the table.
‘Now James, and Christine, if you would please take out the trash,’ said Dela.
They were about to lift her straight into the barrow before Din whispered in James’ ear and they changed her first. She was like a rag doll; just like the Guy.
Dela relaxed back in her chair, and glanced at the others. It seemed from the look in their eyes everyone had learnt the lesson.
‘Aah that’s where you’ve been hiding,’ said Dela to the purring feline with the green eyes underneath the table.
The striped moggy jumped on her knee, and Dela clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.
‘Lord Baka has graced us with an appearance. In future let’s not disappoint hi
m,’ she said.
The sharped toothed cat pawed the tongue on the table top before suddenly running off with it out the back door.
‘Well don’t be surprised anyone,’ she said, before looking at a rather timid Felix.
‘What’s the matter dear husband, cat got your tongue?’
Charles Carney was slamming the boot on his 4 x 4 when he felt a chill sweep through him.
‘Gladys,’ he shouted, before he quickly jumped behind the wheel, spinning off from the muddied farmland.
There was a loud cheer on the common as James and Christine arrived with the effigy. Eve felt pangs of jealous seeing Christine at James’ side.
James hauled Gladys all the way to the top of the bonfire, as Christine held the ladders. Gladys was pushed into a wicker throne, and James couldn’t bear to look at her. He quickly shimmied back down, and with Gasper’s help they placed the ladder out of harm’s way.
‘Here, you do the honours,’ said James to Eve, as he pushed the matches into her hands.
She smiled.
The crackle of flames could soon be heard taking hold of the wooden pyre, and the crowd roared their delight. No one could see the tears streaming down the cheeks of the Guy.
Charles Carney was flushed in the face as he joined Christine and Lucy.
‘Where’s Gladys?’ he asked.
Christine just nodded to the top of the bonfire, and Charles understood immediately. He held onto his inner pain, but looked at Dela murderously across the common. Not only had she killed Gladys, but his unborn child too.
Suddenly there was a loud whoosh, like a rocket pipe, and then more like an invasion. Explosions in the sky lit up the night with speckled gunpowder.
In the morning, when the embers had died down, Bill would help clean up the mess and spirit away Gladys’ bones. As for now, he and Barbara forwent the bonfire; there was too much custom in town.
They didn’t all just rush off, that would have been impolite, and besides they had plenty of business to discuss. So eventually nearly all found themselves in a quiet corner of The Crossed Heart. Charles was feeling sick, and had gone home.
There was a major problem in the offing, but they had no need to worry; after all the gods were on their side, or so said Dela.
Dilwood was knocking back the absinthe, specially selected for him by Bill. Mai was at the other end of the bar chatting with Susie Chang; there was no need for them to know everything. Lucy was also with them; she could be a little over sensitive at times.
Gasper Owido was wearing his corduroys and riding boots, and sitting crossed legged with a pint of real ale in front of him.
‘So it appears Mr van Houten knows all about us,’ he said.
‘And his girlfriend too,’ said Felix ‘the albino.’
‘A challenge indeed,’ said Gasper.
‘So remind me why the police aren’t involved?’ asked Gasper.
‘The girl’s a murderer, and Joost has been laundering money for dear old Dilwood,’ said Felix.
‘And he wants the chance to kill me,’ interceded Vankoni.
‘Oh yes the unfortunate incident in South Africa,’ said Gasper yawning.
All eyes naturally fell on Dela.
‘I have a plan,’ she said ‘starting with the girl.’
‘Unfortunately Mr van Houten has proved a little resilient, but once we have the girl he will be like a fish to the bait,’ said Din.
‘And how do you expect to bring the girl here?’ asked Christine.
‘I don’t,’ replied Dela.
‘So you’re going to kill her elsewhere, but then what about the muti?’ asked Gasper.
‘She’s going to come right to us,’ said Dela smiling, and she placed a little bottle of powder on the table in front of them.
‘I think you can manage that Felix, don’t you?’ said Dela.
As the night wore on Christine and James finally got to bend Dela’s ear on Lucy. The paste made from Joshua Templemead’s spinal cord had showed results. For one thing Lucy now had feeling in her right leg, but they were both of a mind something stronger was needed to complete her recovery.
‘Lucy’s now ready,’ said Dela ‘to walk again.’
James and Christine both smiled, and hugged one another. It was almost like old times; they were both in love again, just not with each other.
‘But are you ready?’ asked Dela ominously.
‘Whatever it takes Dela, I’ve always said that,’ said James.
‘Then we must prepare a very special birthday cake for Lucy,’ said Dela.
Lucy was twenty-two in ten days’ time.
James and Christine both knew what that meant, though they weren’t prepared for the detail. But that wasn’t the worst of it; the cost would clear out the last of James’ inheritance.
‘Well James?’ asked Christine with Dela’s eyes upon him.
‘Of course,’ he finally said ‘what’s a father supposed to do?’
Chapter Twenty Five
It was surprising how little you actually needed to know, and how forgiving those around you could be if you knew even less.
Bheki was back on Brent ward, and the regular nurse Tony, who’d taken an instant shine to her, was making all the excuses for her shortcomings.
‘They just don’t teach the nuts and bolts on the course anymore,’ he said as Bheki struggled to draw up the syringe.
‘I know,’ said Bheki ‘I mean what’s the point of all those essays on social inequality and disease?’ And she raised her eyes to the ceiling.
Tony was standing well back; he didn’t like the look of Bheki waving the syringe in the air. And he’d had a needle stick injury only the other day, when another agency nurse was on duty - Felix Gale.
‘I’m ready,’ said Bheki.
‘Not quite,’ said Tony ‘aren’t you forgetting something?’
Bheki looked none the wiser and smiled. She’d checked the barrel for air bubbles.
Tony sighed and put the syringe in a kidney dish to carry to Carlos’ room. He threw in a small sticking plaster.
‘Are you sure you’re happy to do it?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ she answered.
There’d be no better chance to learn than tonight she thought.
‘I’ll get him ready,’ said Tony adding ‘right side,’ just in case Bheki hadn’t checked his notes.
When Bheki entered the room Carlos was bent forwards over a table, and with his pants down around his ankles.
Now where should she give it? Upper left or bottom right quadrant? Oh well here goes she thought. Fortunately Tony had gone to the office to answer the phone. When he came back Carlos was fastening up his trousers.
‘Best jab I ever had,’ he said ‘never felt a thing.’
Bheki smiled at Tony.
‘And I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever trained as a nurse,’ he said.
Not too far away in the gloom, Dela sat in a car with a small felt doll. Behind its midriff was a small sticking plaster, covered in the owner’s blood and carelessly discarded in a bin. In the doll’s stomach she twisted a pin, whilst Felix waited for a call.
An hour into the shift and Tony was doubled up on the floor. There were worst places to have an appendix nearly burst, and the duty Doc had him rushed to A and E. His replacement would be there in half an hour.
Bheki looked shocked; Joost had promised to keep them apart. Unfortunately the hospital’s deputy manager had phoned him direct.
‘Hi Bheki, how’s things going?’ asked Felix.
‘So so,’ she replied.
They went into the office so Bheki could give a quick handover. Zack the carer knocked on the door.
‘I’ve made everyone a drink and brought in some cake
s; it’s my last shift tonight,’ he said.
Now who could refuse that, and a smiling Felix held the door open for Bheki.
‘Cream horn?’ Felix asked Bheki after looking at the goodies on offer.
‘No thank you, an iced tart for me,’ she said, helping herself.
‘Let me get the sugar,’ said Felix.
On his return from the kitchen he was smiling to himself.
‘Shall I be mother?’ he asked before adding ‘two spoons Bheki?’
She nodded, just before they heard shouting.
Carlos had just taken it in the ass, but his simmering feud with Lance was in danger of boiling over. Felix and Zack went to investigate.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ said Jan the other carer and finally arriving on duty.
‘What’s it like?’ she asked Bheki whilst taking a seat. ‘Mmm cakes,’ she added.
‘So so,’ answered Bheki.
Zack, who knew the patient’s better than anyone, thought it best to split them up, and Lance joined them in the common area, whilst Felix calmed down Carlos.
‘Help yourself Lance,’ said Zack.
Lance washed the doughnut down with the cup of tea Bheki passed him; she didn’t want sweetening up tonight.
It was the middle of the night, and although Felix was watching Bheki like a hawk it was Lance who felt incredibly restless. He just knew he had to escape, and there was a place he needed to be - a small village by the sea.
It was 7 a.m. and a bleary eyed Felix checked the patient’s rooms.
‘Has anyone seen Lance?’ he asked the others, who were now seated in the office, filling in the patient notes.
They shook their heads.
‘I’ll help you look,’ said Zack.
At this moment there was no real panic, but after they checked the bathroom, the kitchen, and all the other patient’s rooms, it was evident he was missing.
‘In here,’ shouted Jan from Lance’s room.
She held his curtain wide open. Just outside the window a metal bar was bent forwards, and from it, trailing to the ground, were knotted bed sheets.