by Quig Shelby
Soon the tiny padlock was snapped shut, and Dela put the key on a chain around her neck.
‘There, now no more squabbling, and if I think you’ve been a good boy I might even unlock you - now and again.’
Felix sighed. Torture with relief was one thing, but this was purgatory.
Dela was right, and, although Caroline was disappointed, there was no evidence of foul play. Felix was naturally saddened, and wondered aloud if he could have done anything better, but they were both relieved he wouldn’t be coming back. As for the doctor, another death certificate helped pay for that golf club he was missing, and he needed something to catch up with Gasper Owido; his swing had improved tremendously recently.
Chapter Thirty Seven
‘It’s too short,’ said Mr Pandalay, referring to Susie Chang’s hem line.
‘Pandy honestly,’ she said exasperated ‘it’s either too short, too revealing or too flirty. I’ve got to wear something darling.’
‘I wish you weren’t going at all,’ said a miserable looking Pandy.
‘I know, but it’s the one night of the year I get to go out on my own.’
‘Look I know I’m being a real meanie, but do you have to go this year?’ asked Pandy; just as he always did.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and next to a pile of clothes Susie had taken out of the wardrobe to try. There were plenty more inside.
‘But Sin-derella must go to the ball,’ said Susie. ‘Anyway help me choose some heels, I think I like this dress the best.’
‘Well at least take a coat,’ said Pandy ‘you might catch your death.’
‘You’re so concerned,’ said Susie, and she kissed him on the forehead.
‘And don’t worry I’ll phone to let you know I’m alright,’ she said.
Susie was choosing her outfit for tonight’s event in Steeple’s End at the hotel Mephisto, and she couldn’t wait.
Charles Carney was propped up against the sink, whist Lucy made them both a cup of tea.
‘I can only stand for five minutes at a time,’ she said ‘but tomorrow I should be able to throw away that chair,’ and she cast a cursory glance at her wheelchair.
‘All thanks to Dela,’ said Charles sombrely.
Charles had filled the void since Gladys’ demise, and given Lucy another shoulder to lean on.
‘Yes, Dela,’ said Lucy, although there wasn’t a tone of thanks in her voice either.
‘Charles do you think the means always justify the end?’ Lucy asked.
She didn’t know all the grisly details of the cake, and she didn’t want too, but she knew Dela well enough to know it wouldn’t be pretty.
‘I used to, but not any longer,’ replied Charles, looking at the cacti on the window ledge.
He must get some more bonsai trees he thought. He was becoming a real devil with the secateurs.
Lucy sat back in her chair, and Charles joined her at the table on a pine stool. He rubbed his scalp.
‘I miss Gladys you know,’ he said.
‘Me too,’ said Lucy.
‘Who knows maybe I’ll be next?’ he said.
After the bonfire this was a thought that had crossed everyone’s mind, apart from Bill’s and Barbara.
‘Hey guess what, I got this in the post the other day,’ said Lucy, changing the conversation.
She put the bicycle reflector on the table.
‘It’s from my accident,’ she said.
Charles picked it up.
‘So who’s it from?’ he asked a little intrigued.
‘That’s just it. I don’t know. But there was a rather cryptic message in the same package.’
‘Go on,’ said Charles.
‘Dilwood’s still a bad driver.’
‘Well I only know one Dilwood, and I suspect you do too’ said Charles.
‘Yes, Dilwood Benson.’
‘Of course someone could be trying to stir up trouble, but come to think of it he does own a nursing home in Oxford,’ said Charles.
He got up to rinse his cup in the sink.
‘Well I can’t ask him outright, can I?’ asked Lucy.
‘You could,’ said Charles.
‘But what if he freaks out?’
‘Well then you know he’s the one that hit you,’ said Charles, looking out into the garden and all the wonderful shrubbery.
‘And then what do I do?’ she asked.
‘That’s entirely up to you. What am I supposed to do about Gladys?’ he said.
Lucy lamented.
‘We’re all Dela’s prisoners,’ she said.
‘Perhaps. It’s that pesky cat again,’ said Charles, and he opened the window.
‘Shoo,’ he shouted, and the golden striped moggy stared back unmoved.
‘Damn cheek of it,’ said Charles ‘it’s already left two dead birds on my lawn.’
Charles opened the back door, but the cat was gone. He soon followed, back to his lonely house.
Felix was trussed up on the bed like a Xmas turkey. Although the cage was a permanent annoyance, he actually felt more awake; no longer the subject of Dela’s regular draining’s. The lingerie still felt a ridiculous, partly because he was overweight, but he could get used to it - as long as it was their secret.
‘Wear these darling,’ and Dela stuck a pair of wireless headphones on his head.
Felix knew what to expect, and he was blindfolded with one of Dela’s rather exquisite head scarves; perfumed too.
Their next door neighbour was another £100 short on the skin lightening creams she applied morning and night. Unfortunately her doting son, the croupier, was no longer in a position to slide some chips across the gaming table, due a rather unfortunate incident at a public convenience. So Dela left him in the bedroom with Felix, who was duly mounted like a horse.
‘Oh my, Dela,’ said Felix as the remuneration began, and the choristers on the CD sang ‘Hallelujah’.
Dela heard them from the bathroom next door, and whilst admiring herself in the mirror. There wasn’t even the faintest trace of a line; not on the forehead, around the eyes, or in the corners of her mouth. And cake was supposed to be bad for you!
Eventually there was a loud groan from the croupier, and the bedroom door opened. He looked sheepish, and Dela whispered ‘let’s keep it our little secret’ as she let him out.
Now should she undo the padlock, and give Felix a reward? But he was so much more attentive. No, let him wait a little longer; perhaps even a month or two. She took out her camera to remember the moment, and who knows maybe she’d even post it online.
Joost was surprised how much time he was spending in church. Of course the delectable Bheki Ncube was the bait, or rather had been. But he felt a change. Perhaps it was Pastor Goodyear, or perhaps it was John, and knowing Stella and Hildy still existed. Or maybe plain and simple he needed help, and had nowhere else to turn.
Joost managed to fit his car in the last available space near The Church of Loving Saints, and began to walk the short distance up the street. It was nearly midnight; he was feeling tired, and hoped Bheki would to return to their hotel to sleep.
‘That looks like him,’ said Jimmy.
Dino grabbed the knife, but Jimmy grabbed his arm.
‘Wait, I can’t be certain yet,’ said Jimmy.
Joost took a few more paces forwards.
‘It’s him,’ said Jimmy, and they both stepped out of the van.
Joost could see them approaching in the twilight. He was on his guard, quick enough to dodge the blade. He kicked one of them in the groin before turning around, and Dino fell to the floor in agony. Joost ran, leading them away from Bheki.
When he turned the corner Joost realised it was a dead end. Two men lurched towards hi
m, and he said a little prayer next to the fire exit, and a poster of Pastor Goodyear.
The side door opened, and a portly African gentleman stepped out. Dino was caught by surprise, and his arm was snapped like a pencil; his screams drowned out by the ‘singing preacher’. Jimmy reached for the knife, but was kneed in the face for his trouble. Joost stepped over them both to thank his friend.
‘Now that’s what I call a miracle,’ said Joost.
The African smiled, and tilted his trilby. The would be assassins were sprawled on the pavement, and Joost recognised Jimmy. He smiled; black eyes looked far better than black magic.
‘Jimmy,’ said Dino at the accident and emergency unit ‘maybe it’s time for you to look for another girl.’
‘I couldn’t agree more bro,’ mumbled Jimmy, holding the icepack over his broken nose.
He’d never passed one exam back home. Then again he’d never sat an exam back home. He’d always been too busy herding goats, or looking after his younger siblings. But now Vankoni was trawling through the web for courses.
He twisted the pen Christine had bought him through his long bony fingers. But what interested him? Medicine? He’d spent so long taking life maybe he could start saving it. Then again Felix was a nurse, and he wasn’t exactly the caring type. Physics? That’s where Christine had started, but they weren’t a meeting of minds, more like a collision of bodies. Heavenly maybe, observed definitely.
He scrolled down the page, stopping at chemical engineering; after all he’d helped Dilwood cut his latest shipment. He was about to hit the print button when Christine sent a text - ‘b ready in 5’.
Vankoni raised his eyes to the ceiling, where was it this time? Dogging, some hotel with a morning show for the maid, or in Beaustead Park again, moaning for the tramps?
Chapter Thirty Eight
Some days were better than others for Frank Sleigh. Today the past was hidden under a layer of slap, and he had become another person. His driver placed his bags in the boot, and they headed for the hotel Mephisto.
His heart had nearly bled dry for Alison, but not for his ex-wife. His mother once asked why he always picked selfish women, but he was only copying the model she had given him. Anyway she no longer had to worry; he’d given up women for Herman, a Brazilian bartender, and he had a proposal to give during his show tonight.
There were a lot of comings and goings in the passageway outside their hotel room, and Joost could see from the window that the car park was full. It was Saturday night, and time for Madam Fang Fong’s cabaret; it was her farewell performance.
‘Is he, or she, here yet?’ asked Bheki smirking.
She’d never been done by a tranny - yet.
‘There’s a Rolls-Royce arriving. I think that could be her,’ said Joost.
There was a loud cheer as the car door opened, and out stepped the vaunted female impersonator that was the dear Madam.
‘Looks like we’ll be safe, at least for another night,’ said Bheki.
She was missing her flat, her possessions, and Eudy.
‘Joost I don’t know if I can stay here much longer,’ she said.
Joost could easily keep it up, but Bheki knew that.
‘Let’s give it a couple more days, and then decide,’ said Joost.
That’s if Bheki still wanted him; she did blow hot and cold.
‘OK, but come and cheer me up,’ she said lying back on the bed ‘then I’ll let you go and get a drink.’
Joost obliged, after all what was a man supposed to do?
He left Bheki purring on the pillows, and went downstairs for a bottle of bourbon. At the bar there was a big furore surrounding a blonde beehive. When their eyes met they both smiled in recognition.
‘Darling I had no idea,’ said Frank Sleigh AKA Madam Fang Fong.
She rolled back her eyelashes; after all, she had to camp it up for her adoring fans.
‘I’m here with Bheki,’ said Joost, pushing through the small crowd of admirers.
‘Oh,’ replied Frank, a little disappointed.
He held a pen for autographs underneath his false red nails. The mascara was deep blue, and the eyebrow pencil had drawn a swirl to his temples.
‘Anyway handsome, see me after the show I’ve got something I want to share,’ said Frank.
Mr Wheatley was admiring Frank’s sequined dress, and smirked at Joost.
‘Aren’t you the lucky one,’ said an envious Mr Crowley close by.
Holding onto his bottle of bourbon Joost fled back up the stairs.
The loud cheer nearly raised the roof, and Bheki and Joost wondered what was happening. Joost did like sexy clothes with a hint of sleaze but only women, and Bheki liked her men in trousers; I guess she was an old fashioned girl after all.
At the overcrowded bar Herman had just tearfully accepted a proposal of marriage from Madam Fang Fong, whom after singing her swan song handed out her new business cards ‘Frank Sleigh, Medium and Clairvoyant.’ This was no hoax. After seeing Alison at the pastor’s house he could see Spirits, and not just the ones Joost was knocking back in his hotel room.
‘Don’t tell me you’re going to get another bottle,’ asked Bheki.
‘No, I promised Frank I‘d see him after the show,’ said Joost on hearing several cars pull out.
‘You mean Madam Fang Fong,’ said Bheki smiling.
‘Joost if you’ve got any more secrets you can tell me,’ she teased.
He threw a pillow at her, before making his ways down the stairs. He didn’t want to take the overcrowded lift.
The bar was thinning, and Frank shooed a jealous Herman away.
‘It’s business,’ Frank said after him.
‘Who’s the guy with Madame,’ asked the tranny in the lobby.
‘Joost van Houten,’ said Mr Crowley ‘kind of cute isn’t he.’
‘Indeed, and tell me does he happen to have a girlfriend here?’
‘Yes, she’s upstairs. She’s a knockout too.’
‘And is she albino by any chance?’
Mr Crowley looked a little nonplussed.
‘White with African features,’ elaborated the tranny.
‘Yes, now you mention it.’
‘Hey where are you going Susie?’ asked Mr Crowley.
‘To the car, I need to make a phone call,’ said Susie Chang.
‘It’s them alright,’ said Susie.
‘Well done my dear. Keep a watch, I’ll tell Dela,’ said Pandy.
‘So Frank, what did you want to say? asked Joost. ‘And don’t worry I won’t tell Pastor Abel.’
‘My dear boy, he knows all about it,’ said Frank, looking at his long and glorious nails. ‘Anyway here’s the news.’ He looked up, staring into Joost’s eyes. ‘After attending the séance you provided, I can now see on the other side.’
Frank slouched back in his chair, waiting for the applause, but Joost looked sceptical.
‘I have to put myself in a trance,’ explained Frank ‘not too deep though.’
Joost still wasn’t convinced.
‘I came across John Lacey,’ said Frank. ‘He told me to keep an eye out for you.’
‘Thanks Frank,’ and Joost got up to go.
‘I’ve seen Stella and Hildy,’ said Frank.
Joost grabbed the top of the chair he was passing, and nearly broke it in two.
‘Sorry, I should have warned you first,’ said Frank, as Joost collapsed back down in the seat next to him.
‘Go on, please,’ begged Joost.
‘They miss you naturally, as much as you miss them, but they’re fine’.
‘Do you think I could hear them?’ asked Joost.
‘Hear, and see them, if you have the gift.’
And he shouted Herm
an.
‘Get me the scrying glass.’
The glass orb sat on the table between them. Frank’s face had turned pale, and it wasn’t the foundation.
Bheki watched them from behind the long velvet curtains at the end of the bar, and saw the tears rolling down Joost’s face.
‘I miss you both so much,’ cried Joost.
It was both grief and joy, for he could see them smiling again, before him in the glass.
‘We miss you too Dad,’ said Hildy.
‘Stop blaming yourself Joost,’ said Stella softly ‘there was nothing else you could have done.’
‘I wished I’d died instead of you,’ said Joost.
‘We know,’ said Stella.
Bheki stepped away from the curtains, quickly running back to their room. She realised Joost would never be hers, and that she would never replace the ones he’d loved, and lost. Besides she didn’t want to compensate, be his reparation. She quickly packed her bag, took the car keys, and fled into the night. Joost wasn’t the only one dabbing his eyes.
‘Anyway my darling Joost, you have a new love,’ said Stella.
Joost felt guilty.
‘You see things differently on this side Joost. Treat her well for she loves you as much as I did. And Joost, be kind,’ said Stella fading away, with Hildy waving goodbye by her side.
Frank came out of his trance to find Joost sobbing before him.
‘It’s never easy,’ said Frank consoling him.
Joost got to his feet, and they hugged one another.
‘I must see Bheki,’ said Joost, and he left to jump up the stairs, two at a time.
He opened the door, but it wasn’t Bheki sitting on the bed waiting for him.
‘Mr van Houten, it’s nice to see you again. So this is where you’ve been hiding,’ said Dela.
Before he could remonstrate a powerful hand was held tight over his mouth, and he breathed in the chloroform. He was too confused to fight back, even if Din was doing more sweeping than weight training these days. Never ask for what you wish thought Din. When he’d helped to kill Lance with the broom handle he’d hoped to be Mr Universe - instead he’d become Mrs Mop.