Black Cathedral (department 18)

by L. H. Maynard

  ‘When I hit seventeen I left home. My father was very ill by then, and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Mother had been uncomfortable with the commercial side of things for a long time — it didn’t sit well with her religious beliefs — but she was too afraid of my father to say anything. He was a bully, and he had a terrible temper. When I told her I wanted to leave home she was upset, but supported my decision. It was tough for her, knowing that her husband only had a short time to live, but she put her feelings on the back burner for my benefit. I’ll always be grateful for that.

  ‘I left home, changed my name, and set about finding ways to use my gift to help others rather than turning a profit.’

  ‘So what happened next?’ Jane said, probing deeper. In the years since they’d first met she’d never known him to open up like this. She was seeing a completely different side to Robert Carter; a softer, more vulnerable side. It made a refreshing change.

  ‘I’d had enough of England so I went to America. I’d heard about a research center in Kansas dedicated to exploring psychic phenomena in a totally scientific way. It was an antidote to all the Spiritualist mumbo jumbo. When I arrived I met others with powers similar to my own, and I had a chance to talk about them, to explore ways to use them. For the first time in a decade I stopped feeling like a freak, a sideshow turn. The three years I spent out there were the happiest time of my life.

  ‘I’d heard of Simon Crozier, and was aware he’d recently taken over for Sir George Logan at Department Eighteen. Walt Whitney, the director of the Institute, was a friend of Crozier’s and put my name forward as a possible candidate for the new regime. The picture Whitney painted was very attractive so I flew back to England to meet with Crozier. I can’t say I liked him — still don’t — but the idea of the place intrigued me enough and I found the invitation hard to resist. It was everything I’d been looking for. I knew there were only a handful of people in the world who had the same kind of psychic range as me, and so did Simon Crozier. Of course, by inviting me to join the Department, he was pandering to my ego and I let him. But for a long time, working there, I felt I was doing something worthwhile with my life.’

  ‘Until Sian disappeared.’ Jane began to understand why it had hit him so hard.

  ‘Yes.’ He ground out his cigarette.

  ‘And as I said before, you can’t blame yourself for that.’

  Carter swallowed the dregs of cold coffee. The bitterness of the coffee was mirrored in his words. ‘That’s the problem, you see. I can and I do, because I knew something terrible was going to happen that day. Just as clearly as I knew I was going to die on the operating table when I was seven years old. I knew even before I entered the house that there was something awful waiting just over the threshold. Something that would change my life forever. But I thought that what ever was going to happen would happen to me. I just didn’t foresee it happening to Sian. I should never have taken her along. I should have gone alone.’

  Jane said nothing. She got to her feet abruptly and walked to the door.

  ‘Going?’ Carter said. ‘You’re probably as disillusioned with me as I am with myself.’

  ‘It’s a long drive back to London.’ She paused, her hand on the latch. ‘Yes, I’m going, but no, I’m not disillusioned with you. Quite the reverse. I shouldn’t have come here. It wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t fair of Simon to ask me.’

  ‘When do you leave for Scotland?’

  ‘There’s a briefing first thing Thursday morning, then we’re flying up to Aberdeen.’

  ‘I see.’ He lit yet another cigarette. ‘Why did you and David split up?’

  The question jolted her. ‘I can’t even begin to get into that one,’ she said.

  ‘It was the job, wasn’t it?’

  She hesitated, and then nodded her head sharply.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It has a habit of ruining lives. Take care, Jane.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, and let herself out of the house. As she walked to the car, a single tear seeped out from her eye and rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away impatiently with the back of her hand and got in behind the wheel, then drove away from the cottage without looking back.

  She’d gone no more that five miles when her cell phone rang.

  She punched a button. There was a brief silence, then Carter said, ‘Where are you?’

  ‘About a mile from the motorway. Why?’

  ‘Can you come back?’

  ‘Why?’ But she was already looking for a place to turn round.

  ‘There’s something you should see.’

  The door opened at her first knock. ‘Well?’ she said.

  ‘Come on through to the kitchen. I want to show you something.’ It was as if he was resigned to show her something he had been reluctant to share.

  Spread out on the kitchen table was a map of the British Isles. He’d marked four stars on it with red pen. ‘The stars are the sites of my last four investigations.’ He took a ruler and laid it over the stars. They formed an arrow-straight line.

  ‘Interesting,’ she said. ‘Ley lines?’ Jane was as familiar with the ancient passages as she was with her own history.

  ‘It certainly looks that way.’ With a pencil he drew a line all the way down to Weymouth on the coast. ‘I wouldn’t mind betting there’s been more activity along that line. The incidents have been gradually moving south.’

  ‘I haven’t heard of anything,’ Jane said.

  ‘Maybe, but the Department only gets to hear about a fraction of these occurrences. After you left I looked at the map again. A straight line from Redditch all the way down to Warminster.’

  ‘Which was where Sian disappeared.’

  ‘Exactly. And what happened to the management team on Kulsay Island?’

  A frown creased her forehead. ‘They disappeared.’

  They disappeared! Vanished without a trace, except for the blood.

  It was suddenly so obvious. She picked up the pen and drew a line north. It traveled through the Midlands, through Newcastle upon Tyne, and then out into the North Sea. She followed the line and drew another star.

  ‘Kulsay,’ she said. Though she didn’t yet know what it meant.

  ‘Kulsay.’

  ‘So Sian’s disappearance could be connected to what’s happening on the island.’

  ‘It’s possible.’ He wasn’t yet ready to share the rest of his conclusions with her. He wasn’t yet ready to show her the other map. The one where he had overlaid all the ley lines that connected known supernatural incidents during the past fifty years. The map that showed the straight lines from Kulsay, all the way to Rome, and the Vatican City.

  ‘And you still won’t join the investigation?’ Jane opened her hands to him in a helpless gesture.

  ‘I don’t have a choice now, do I?’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Jane’s mother, Brenda, sat simmering in an armchair, ostensibly reading the Sunday newspaper, but taking in very few of the words. Every time the paper rustled Jane glanced across, ready for the next caustic comment that would surely follow.

  Jane was ironing Gemma’s school uniform, attempting normality despite the strained atmosphere. The girls were playing in the garden, seemingly unconcerned that their grandmother had been looking after them for the past few days, and they hadn’t seen their daddy. He had telephoned though; awkward ‘What have you been doing?’ conversations usually associated with occasionally seen aunts.

  ‘Cup of coffee?’ Jane asked her mother.

  The newspaper was immediately lowered. ‘I’ll get it.’

  Jane had switched off the iron. David should be here quite soon. ‘No, you’re fine. Read your paper.’

  Brenda put the paper on the small table that held her small glass of sherry. ‘I can’t take any of it in. Some government scandal about peerages, rising crime rates; the whole country is fading fast.’

  Oh God, Jane thought. Not the ‘like was it in my day’ rant. Not today. It was difficult enoug
h shepherding her feelings about seeing her husband again, without her mother giving her a hard time. Harder time she should say, because since she’d arrived Brenda had wasted no opportunity to let her know what she had done wrong, must have done wrong to let a good man go.

  In the kitchen Jane was cut off from conversation, unless her mother chose to follow her, which this time she didn’t. Waiting for the kettle to boil she watched the girls in the garden. Their innocence was so precious and yet she knew that in a few short years they would begin to be embroiled in the responsibilities and pressures that affected everyone.

  Stop it, Jane. She remonstrated with herself. Let the children have their special few years of bliss, let them be children for as long as they can. She smiled as she heard their laughter, sweet and high and boundless.

  Telling the girls that David was going away for a few days seemed dishonest but was possibly all that was happening. Both Jane and David had spent time away on business so absence wasn’t unusual. What she would say if the days became weeks, became months, became permanent, she didn’t care to think.

  It wouldn’t come to that, she told herself. I’ll get this Scottish trip out of the way and then I’ll take some time off; I’m owed some leave. We can all go away, David and the girls, perhaps Spain, somewhere hot where we can relax and rebuild what we had. Once I get back from Kulsay everything will be all right again.

  The doorbell rang. Before she had a chance to get more than halfway into the hall the front door was opened and Brenda was welcoming David with luxurious warmth. ‘David, it is good to see you. How have you been?’

  David looked well. Jane couldn’t see straightaway what it was but he seemed different. He looked over Brenda’s shoulder as she hugged him and raised his eyes in greeting to Jane. She smiled back and waited for her mother to release him.

  Gradually he wrestled his way out of her grip and walked uncertainly to Jane. ‘Hello, Jane.’ He kissed her cheek and she felt as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. The kiss of strangers, affectionate but lacking any passion.

  Then she saw what was different about him. New clothes. Smart gray trousers with front pleat, pink shirt, a color that under no circumstances would he wear for her, and casual laceless shoes. He’s got someone else, she thought, and it seemed so obvious that tears welled in her eyes.

  David misread the emotion and stepped away from her.

  ‘You’ve bought some new things,’ Jane said quietly.

  David made a deprecating gesture. ‘Most of my stuff is still here. I’ll have to take it soon.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Not today though.’

  Brenda bustled into the kitchen. ‘I’ll pour the coffee.’

  ‘The girls are in the garden,’ Jane said. ‘We’ve got half an hour yet before church. I’ll bring the coffee outside.’

  David went out to see his daughters, and Jane heard the excited squeals and shouts when they saw him. What ever happened between Jane and David, he would always be their father. Jane determined to make that her main priority. Despite that pledge her mind was racing; someone else, someone else…

  The day was bright and clear with that warning tint to the sky, that hint that this is a day to savor before the storms come running after you.

  Jane took the tray with the coffee cups out into the garden and placed it on the round green trestle table she and David had picked last summer, when things were good. Before the storms came running. Brenda stayed inside, believing the two needed to sort themselves out without her interference. Not that she didn’t believe she couldn’t bring them back together; a few stern words, especially with her daughter, wouldn’t do any harm at all in her opinion.

  David looked across at Jane, said a few words to the girls and sat down at the table, leaning forward to lift up his cup. It was then Jane noticed the other thing about him that had changed. He had taken off his wedding ring.

  ‘Girls,’ she called. ‘Gemma, Amy. Run inside and wash your hands, please. We have to go to church in five minutes.’ She held up her hand with the fingers spread so they could count them and make the association.

  ‘Is Daddy coming?’ Amy asked.

  Jane nodded and David smiled.

  The two girls ran into the house hooraying and cheering.

  Jane ignored her coffee. ‘Bit soon to remove the ring, isn’t it?’

  David began to feign ignorance but realized it was pointless. ‘We’ll need to talk.’

  A shiver ran through her that she tried to suppress. This was the end, she knew that now. She stood from her chair and walked back into the house.

  Once they were in David’s car the girls carried on a nonstop chatter that under other circumstances Jane would have enjoyed. Her thoughts were a turmoil of anger, sadness and fear.

  The car park at the back of St Joseph’s Roman Catholic Church was always full at least twenty minutes before Mass began, so everyone knew to arrive early. David managed to get the last but one space and reversed into it.

  Jane had been brought up in the Catholic faith by her mother and had continued it into adulthood, though she didn’t believe she was quite as fanatical as her mother. She said hello to a few people as the family made their way along the aisle to an empty pew. She genuflected to the altar, showed the girls what to do and they all sat, David on the other side of the two girls. He wasn’t a Catholic but had no difficulty with helping Gemma and Amy be brought up in the religion.

  As people settled themselves, waiting for the priest to enter, Jane kneeled and said a silent prayer to her God. She prayed for the girls to survive her marriage split, for David to find happiness and for her to have the courage to see it through.

  She sat back on her seat and the priest entered, walking along the aisle, Bible in hand, accompanied by the lay preacher, and two young altar servers. One of them was swinging the incense, waves of which filled the air, anointing the congregation, pungent and cloying.

  Once on the altar the priest raised his hands in the air. He made the sign of the cross and the congregation did the same. ‘May the Lord be with you.’ As one everyone replied, ‘And also with you.’

  Prayers followed, hymns, and all Jane could think of was what she would do when David had gone; when he was with another woman. The problem was that having thoughts like that in church made her guilty. David called it the religion of the guilty and she had to acknowledge she knew what he meant.Our father who art in Heaven

  Hallowed be thy name

  Movement to her left caught her attention and she looked across to the statue of Lord Jesus. Blood seeped from the nails through his palms and feet.Thy kingdom come

  Thy will be done

  She turned to the people behind her but apart from glancing at her they were intent on the prayer. David was oblivious to her, probably already thinking about whoever he was meeting afterwards. Jane looked at the statue again. Jesus had pulled Himself free of the cross and was poised to jump to the floor.On earth as it is in Heaven

  Give us this day our daily bread

  His eyes seemed to pour into Jane’s as He walked in front of the altar. No one else seemed able to see Him. Everyone continued with their attention on the priest. The figure of Jesus was changing as He walked towards her. The benign smile was fading, being replaced by a reptilian anger that made her think of flicking tongues and dry, flaking scales.And forgive us our trespasses

  As we forgive those who trespass against us

  Within a few feet of her Jesus was no more. The figure that approached her was barely recognizable as human. It was more of the beast, but Jane was the only one who could see it.Lead us not into temptation

  But deliver us from evil

  Standing next to her, pressing a dark claw into her arm, she could smell the raw meat stench of its breath, feel the rough texture of the skin as it rubbed itself against her. Its eyes were fetid pools of hopelessness, alive with mocking fury.For thine is the kingdom

  The Power and the Glory

  Forever and ever


  Amen

  The massed voices spoke aloud ‘Amen’ and Jane involuntarily joined them. With that the vision disappeared as if it had never been there. She looked up at the cross and Jesus was back where He belonged.

  The priest began to prepare the sacrament, holding up the Lamb of God, pouring the wine, laying out the basket of symbolic bread.

  People began turning to one another to offer the hand of peace, ‘Peace Be With You,’ ‘Peace Be With You.’ Jane turned behind her and it seemed like a thousand hands thrust forward, clutching at hers. She drew back her hand and the middle-aged man looked hurt at the insult, pausing before offering peace elsewhere.

  Jane bent down to Gemma and smiled the best she could at her dear daughter, ‘Peace Be With You.’ A voice that wasn’t hers but came from Gemma’s mouth said, ‘Fuck off you boring old cow. Daddy wouldn’t have left if it hadn’t been for you.’ Jane flinched and in her normal voice Gemma said, ‘What’s the matter, Mummy? You have to say, “Peace Be With You.” Don’t you remember?’

  People began to file forward for the Communion. Some would only take it from the priest himself but Jane was happy for she and the girls to accept the lay preacher. When it was their turn Jane let the girls go first, shepherding them along before they could start to ask questions of the poor man as they often did.

  When it was her turn Jane opened her mouth for the wafer to be placed on her tongue. The man suddenly put his fingers into her mouth and took tight hold of her tongue. ‘Deliver us from evil, Jane. Deliver us.’ His fingers were gone and Jane felt the wafer in her mouth.

  Back in her place she knelt to pray. Her mind was a rainbow pattern of thoughts and emotions, uncertain what was happening and how much of it was real. Real or hallucinatory, she wondered what was causing it.