by Quig Shelby
‘Din, I still can’t believe we found one another,’ said the brunette.
‘I know, it’s incredible isn’t it.’
‘Have you fixed a date yet?’ she asked.
‘For?’
‘The wedding silly. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.’
‘Of course not,’ said Din ‘that’s why I’ve brought you here.’
They were on the edge of a forest covered in snow, and with a full moon hanging low in the sky before them.
‘Din you’re so romantic,’ and she kissed him on the cheek.
‘Where did Joost say he was going?’ asked Din looking out of the car window.
Irena tried to hide her annoyance, but at times it seemed Din was more interested in her old boss than her, even though they’d never met.
‘He wouldn’t say Din.’
‘What, nothing at all?’
Din was fuming with rage, and she had never seen him like this. He was always sweet as pie.
‘No.’
‘Surely he must have said something, or given you an idea?’ His voice was booming.
‘I’m sorry Din, but he wouldn’t say anything. Can we please talk about the wedding instead.’
Din calmed down immediately, and for a second he valued her love.
‘No I’m the one who’s sorry Irena. I know you wouldn’t lie to me, and you really are a lovely girl. But please understand, it’s not in my hands anymore.’
Din looked terribly sad.
‘What do you mean Din?’ asked Irena, but he couldn’t speak.
He just banged the car horn, and Vankoni and Dilwood drove up behind them.
‘Din what’s going on?’ asked Irena, but he just stepped out of the car, leaving her all alone.
‘Din you’re scaring me,’ she shouted as he walked away, but it was all too late.
Din walked into the woods to clear his head, whilst Vankoni and Dilwood dragged her out of the car.
Din had wanted to shout ‘make it quick’ to Vankoni, but he couldn’t even do that after all the muti murders. It was the first time screams, anyone’s screams, had pierced his heart. They chopped out her atlas bone for Dela, glad they’d donned plastic aprons.
They buried Irena in an unmarked grave, deep in the forest. And with it the last vestige of humanity that Din owned.
Chapter Thirty Three
Bheki and Eudy weren’t at the flat when they returned, but they hadn’t moved out just yet; it was midnight prayer at The Church of Loving Saints.
‘You want me to stay here?’ asked Mai.
The cramped conditions were a stark reminder of what she had left behind.
‘Don’t worry they’re moving out tomorrow,’ said Themba.
‘In the morning,’ said Joost, and he went into the bedroom, to place the statue he had next to Bheki’s.
They made a pretty pair.
‘Then where do I go?’ Mai asked Themba.
‘Are you the praying type?’ he asked.
‘Only in difficult times,’ she replied.
‘In that case let’s go to church.’
There was someone on the door; the biggest guy in the flock. The church was neither a rehab nor drop in centre. But if you were serious about worship you were welcome. Joost, Themba, and Mai, were greeted with smiles and handshakes as they arrived.
Bheki had been nervously watching the entrance form the back of the church, and saw them arrive. She waved her hand in the air.
‘Over there,’ said Themba, and he rushed to Eudy’s side, and the bump.
Bheki got up from her seat to hug Joost.
‘Did you get it?’ she whispered in his ear.
His broad smile gave her the answer.
Bheki held Mai’s hands, and in the look that passed between them knew she had left Dilwood.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said ‘we’ll take care of you.’
Mai had been in the country for years, but felt like a poor new arrival, lost and scavenging. She had to remind herself of Dilwood’s threats.
Pastor Abel Goodyear held the microphone on stage, and was mumbling into it.
‘Save them Lord, and lead them out of bondage,’ he prayed.
If only he could lead Bheki into it, thought Joost.
‘Let them not dress in borrowed robes dear Lord,’ the pastor glanced at Joost ‘but remain true to your divine guidance.’
‘He wants to see you afterwards’ said Bheki, looking proudly at Joost.
Themba gave him the thumbs up.
When the prayers had finished, in the early hours of the morning, Pastor Goodyear made a beeline for Joost; the two men faced one another.
‘Come, we must talk,’ said Abel.
The pastor saw the momentary concern in Joost’s eyes.
‘Don’t worry they can come along too. The prophetess will look after them.’
The prophetess, also known as Miriam Goodyear, was the pastor’s wife.
Joost was chauffeured to the pastor’s West London residence, with the others following at the rear.
They sat in the back, making small talk on the way. Joost was convinced there was much more to the pastor than met the eye, and was struck by his two gold rings; they were thick enough to be knuckle dusters. Each was on a middle finger; the right bore a crucifix, the left OSY.
Joost and Abel were on the middle floor, in the study of the large house. The pastor picked up a cigar from the lacquered box, and offered one to Joost.
‘No thanks,’ said Joost.
‘A glass of brandy then?’ asked Abel.
Joost nodded, and Abel poured two very large glasses. They sat across from one another in the green leather chairs.
‘It seems that you lead a very interesting life Joost.’
‘You could say that,’ said Joost.
‘And what would you say?’
‘Cursed,’ but then he paused for a moment ‘apart from Bheki that is.’
‘She’s quite a girl isn’t she? And a nice big ass too.’
Abel winked. Ordinarily it wasn’t what you’d expect from a man of the cloth, but Abel Goodyear wasn’t an ordinary pastor.
‘Tell me,’ asked Abel ‘what’s she like in bed? As good as she looks?’
‘Better,’ said Joost grinning.
‘So you do have some things to smile about. But I do know of the sadness in your heart,’ said Abel.
‘From Bheki?’ asked Joost.
‘A little, but not all. My wife contacts the Spirits on occasion.’
‘Voodoo Spirits?’ asked Joost.
‘Yes but not Petro, Rada.’
‘Is there a difference?’ asked Joost.
‘Dela Eden Obi is a Petro high priestess. Rada voodoo doesn’t kill or injure, it nurtures, protects, loves.’
‘Is that why you wear the OSY charm?’ asked Joost.
‘Of course.’
‘But I thought you were a Christian,’ said Joost.
‘I am that too, but it’s all the same. There is good, and then there is evil. It doesn’t matter who builds the fence in the middle, only which side you are on.’
Joost got his point, and Abel was certainly prospering from his religious philosophy.
‘But what about your congregation?’ asked Joost.
‘They also see no difference. Prayer offers the chance to connect with the divine.’
They both took another sip of brandy. A golden striped cat pushed the door open, and sauntered confidently into the room, looking at them both.
‘A friend of yours?’ asked Joost.
‘Indeed, he comes and goes as he pleases. Sometimes we don’t see him for months; he’s probably come to see you.’
‘Actually I think he’s Baka,’ added Abel, almost whispering.
‘Baka?’ asked Joost.
‘A protective Spirit that takes the form of an animal. But be warned he’s also evil, and can turn on his owner bringing misfortune.’
The cat jumped onto Abel’s lap, and he stroked it gently.
‘Perhaps he has brought you and Dela together to fight it out,’ said Abel.
The cat purred, and Joost recognised its green eyes from the time outside his window.
‘So you know about Dela,’ said Joost.
‘Naturally. She’s famous in certain circles. But not everyone knows about the muti,’ and he tapped the side of his nose.
‘In fact,’ said Abel ‘she’s my biggest competitor, which is why I have brought you here.’
Joost readied himself. Already he knew he couldn’t disappoint Bheki, and that in turn meant he couldn’t let Abel down.
‘My church has been built on donations, and I wish to repay a debt of gratitude to three of my benefactors.’
‘And you think I can help?’ asked Joost.
‘Yes, indirectly. But the real help would come from one John Lacey.’
‘The crocodile mask,’ said Joost.
The pastor smiled.
‘Bheki has told you?’ asked Joost.
‘I am her pastor Joost, but please don’t be angry with her.’
Joost cherished her too much to be cross, and in a way he was pleased that Abel believed too.’
‘Please explain,’ said Joost.
‘The three individuals I have in mind have all lost precious ones.’
Joost knew how they felt.
‘The Prophetess has tried in vain to contact them. But I feel Mr Lacey would have more success, as he’s already on the other side.’
Joost saw the look of hope in Abel’s eyes, and already he didn’t want to disappoint him, but was it possible? After all John had never brought Stella and Hildy forth.
‘I can try,’ said Joost ‘when did you have in mind?’
‘Tomorrow night.’
‘I’m still trying to find a place for Mai,’ bargained Joost.
‘The little Asian girl can stay here’ said Abel.
‘It’s a deal,’ said Joost.
‘Bravo,’ said Abel, pouring them both another large brandy. ‘And by the way, my friends know all the right people. Bheki’s statues are up for auction soon, are they not?’
There was just one small problem, Joost was running out of heroin; he’d just have to let John know on the night.
Joost finally joined the others downstairs. Bheki and Mai had rekindled their friendship, and the prophetess offered Mai temporary residence.
Daylight filtered through the kitchen blinds, as the cook made them breakfast. Bheki wondered if Joost was upset. He wasn’t, though he intended to spank that ass that everyone seemed to admire.
Joost was still drawn to the hotel Mephisto; it looked seedy and desperate. And he now had a bargaining chip with Bheki, Pastor Goodyear’s goodwill.
Chapter Thirty Four
James Middlemass was sitting across from Eve in The Crossed Heart bar. Eve might have expected James to be staring deeply into her eyes whenever she spoke, or at least be rubbing his foot against hers underneath the table; something he was quite fond of doing at church meetings. But far from it; James was staring at the student help, and glass washer, behind the bar.
‘He’s not rinsing them properly,’ said James.
‘For God’s sake James does it matter,’ said an exasperated Eve.
Of course it didn’t matter, and before last week it wouldn’t have mattered to James either. But when he helped to kill Lance with an iron he had, after all, wished to improve his domestic skills.
James looked at Eve’s cassock, and at last she thought she had his attention. That crease needs ironing out he thought.
‘I’d love to do your laundry,’ said James.
Eve laughed loudly, and thinking it was just another one of his kinks that he kept surprising her with; still it was better than the anal sex she pretended to enjoy. And what was it about him anyway? She was undeniably drawn to him like a moth to a flame, but she couldn’t understand why.
‘James when are you going to leave her?’ asked Eve, referring to Christine.
‘I can’t do it until the new year,’ said James.
This wasn’t a surprise to Eve. After all there was poor Lucy to consider, and then all the Christmas services; nativity plays, carol singing, raffles, and the rest. She wasn’t a hard hearted bitch, but she had to have him, and all to herself.
‘But you are going to leave her?’ she asked.
‘Of course,’ he replied smiling.
Eve tried to hold his hand under the table, but there were other parishioners in the pub, and James still didn’t know who’d reported him to the Bishop. Nonetheless Eve grabbed his reluctant hand.
James’ ardour was cooling. The Bishop had fired a warning shot across his bows, Christine had a lover of her own, and now his only financial security lay in staying with the church. He needed to undo the spell he held over Eve, and to stop her from hanging on his every word.
Eve could tell something was amiss, and felt insecure. She held onto the locket that James had bought her, always worn around her neck. It contained a little part of his heart he had said, and inside was a piece of what looked like red leather.
‘Do you still want me James?’ she asked with thoughts of hanging herself in St Agnes at the back of her besotted mind.
‘Yes my love,’ he replied ‘you are always uppermost in my thoughts.’
But in reality his mind was far away. The curtains needed ironing he thought, and tonight. He’d worked through everything else in the house; clothes, bed linen, and even the towels.
‘Here let me take another look at the locket,’ said James.
‘Why?’ asked Eve.
‘I was thinking of having it inscribed, that’s all.’
‘James you’re so thoughtful,’ and she pecked him on the cheek.
‘Eve please, we have to be careful,’ and he looked across at the packed bar.
Bill was standing there, and he beckoned James towards him.
‘I won’t be a minute,’ said James, and he took the locket with him.
‘In the kitchen,’ said Bill.
Bill entered from the back of the bar, and James joined him through the ‘staff only’ door.
‘I hope you know what you’re doing James,’ said Bill.
James smiled uncomfortably.
‘Look I’m not worried about you sleeping around, but don’t tell the poor girl any of our secrets,’ said Bill.
‘Never,’ said James ‘scouts honour.’
Bill wasn’t convinced, and quite liked Eve himself. He really didn’t want her to end up as one of Dela’s offerings.
James glanced down the kitchen at the freezer, which first held John, and now Lance too.
‘Are we OK to speak?’ asked James.
‘Don’t worry about them, they can’t hear us from here,’ said Bill.
‘Anyway to be honest Bill I want shot of the woman. I thought she was what I needed, but look at me I’m an old man; we’d be a laughing stock together,’ said James.
‘It doesn’t matter what other people think James, but you’re right it wouldn’t work,’ then he paused ‘without Dela’s magic that is.’
They both smiled.
‘Look James you’ve had your fun, but now get rid eh.’
James looked down at the locket in his hand. If he got rid of Josh Templemead’s shrunken tongue from inside, then Eve would no longer swoon at his call. He took out the ‘piece of his heart’, and held it in his fist.
‘Bill you know I’ve always wondered, but what is it that Dela does for you?’ asked James.
James surmised some sordid sex goings on with the slightly effeminate Felix involved, and he wasn’t the only one.
‘I’m just waiting on a promise, that’s all,’ said Bill, and he remained tight lipped.
Bill and Barbara had a fear. It wasn’t unnatural, but it loomed large in their lives, permeated everything they did. In spite of knowing there was a Spirit world, or perhaps because of it, they were terrified of death. Dela had promised to return them from the grave, once she had found the key.
Dela had been toying with Joost like a cat with a mouse, and the Spirits had foretold the crossing of their paths long ago, although not by name. She didn’t know how, but Joost would lead her to that very key in which Bill had placed so much faith. Joost was also destined to help her decipher its power, somehow.
James stepped back into the crammed bar. Barbara rushed by with her hands full, bumping into him. His palm opened, and out flew the tongue. He couldn’t be expected to grab it back, or even look for it on the plate for that matter, but he was a little taken aback when Barbara placed the scampi and chips in front of Susie Chang. Mr Pandalay threw James a wink; unlike the vicar he wasn’t remiss to put his hand on his mistress’ knee.
‘I believe that’s mine,’ said Eve stretching out her hand.
Really James should have put it back around her neck, but they both understood their predicament.
James took another swig from his pint glass, before placing it on the beer mat.
‘Honestly,’ he said ‘this table’s filthy.’
‘James if that’s all you have to say I’m off,’ and she looked at him in a different way.
His silky patter had gone, and she was no longer bewitched. In fact he made her feel uncomfortable, and all the things he’d made her do. But he hadn’t made her, she’d wanted to explore his kinkiest fetishes, and he had plenty of them - but why? She no longer understood.
‘James I really am going,’ she said ‘and don’t worry you can stay here, I’ll make my own way home.’
Eve looked over her shoulder. Thank goodness he hadn’t followed her out. If he had groped her she’d have probably died of fright. And to think, she’d given it to him on a plate.