Only Strange People Go to Church

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Only Strange People Go to Church Page 29

by Laura Marney


  When Nessun Dorma ends Marianne walks to the front of the crowded stage and gives a formal vote of thanks. Still struggling with her dilemma, Maria isn’t paying attention. Suddenly Pastor McKenzie is at her side.

  ‘Come on, Maria,’ he says, ‘everyone’s waiting for you.’

  Dazed, Maria lets herself be led on to the stage. Here she receives from Blue Group an enormous bouquet accompanied by hugs and wet kisses.

  ‘As I’ve said,’ says Marianne, ‘without the stubborn efforts of Miss Maria Whyte there would have been no show.’

  From here on stage the applause sounds different, a frightening crashing noise, a noise that demands everything of Maria but what else has she to give?

  ‘Tonight you’ve heard how, under the auspices of the Diva Extravaganza, a community café and youth club have been established. Well, I am very pleased to tell you that, thanks to the incredible generosity of Mr Ray Emmanuel, Mrs Alice Boyd, the ladies of Autumn House and other members of our community, the café and youth club will continue to run. Of course, all are welcome, ‘come one come all,’ as it says outside, but we are particularly keen for volunteers – male and female – to get involved in the new five-a-side football group.’

  Maria’s breathing has just about returned to normal. Thank God Marianne didn’t expect her to make a speech.

  ‘Of course, given the tremendous success of tonight’s show, we are hoping that Maria will consider running it as an annual event. Maria,’ says Marianne, putting her on the spot, ‘what do you think? Will you produce an annual community show for Hexton?’

  Under this kind of interrogation Maria can only nod blindly. She’s not lying, of course she’ll consider it, but she has one or two more pressing matters to consider at the moment.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in giving Maria our vote of thanks and ratifying our support for an annual event.’

  The audience are happy to ratify.

  Ratify all you like, Maria thinks all the while nodding and smiling, I don’t know where I’ll be a year from now.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please feel free to stay behind and join us for refreshments served by the ladies from Autumn House. I hope you enjoyed our show as much as we enjoyed performing for you and it only remains for me to say thank you very much for your support, safe home and we hope to see you here again next year.’

  The orchestra, for the final time, play a brief reprise while the curtains close. Marianne is shouting instructions for people to leave the stage in an orderly fashion. Blue Group are given priority and everyone stands aside to let them pass. The Hot Steppers are impatiently pawing the floor. Everyone is pushing forward, keen to get front of house and receive their own bouquets and plaudits. All of Blue Group quickly make their excuses and go and join their families.

  ‘Can Brian come with me?’ asks Martin.

  Maria nods, too tired to argue. It’s not until they’ve gone that she realises she hasn’t had a chance to tell them how great they were.

  The Golden Belles are exiting and Alice is barking out instructions.

  ‘Right girls, show’s over, get your tutus off and your aprons on, there’s customers waiting to be served!’

  Maria is still holding her bouquet, like a bride jilted at the altar, she stands alone on the empty stage, expectant but hopeless. She goes back to the dressing room and dumps the flowers in six inches of water in the sink. Outside there is an excited hubbub of performers in the hall, congratulating each other as they pass. Perhaps another quick meditation, thinks Maria, but try as she might to summon them, Nelson and Arlene have deserted her. Bastards.

  Now, when it’s important, when she really needs them, they’ve melted away. They’ll be back tomorrow, no doubt. Whether she’s in a cheap B and B with Dezzie en route to London or alone weeping in her flat, they’ll be back to tell her she’s made the right decision.

  Maria knows, she’s always known, that Nelson and Arlene aren’t reliable. The only person she can completely rely on is herself. Not that she’s ungrateful. In the same way that praying to Jesus helps the Pastor and his flock, Nelson and Arlene have helped her. But she knows, she’s always known, that in every challenge she faced pulling the show together, it was her alone who made it happen. And now, when she has this important life-changing decision to make, it’s her, and her alone, that has to make it.

  No point in sitting here doing nothing, might as well get changed and get organised. As she pulls her jumper over her head she remembers her engagement ring dangling around her neck. She takes it off and looks at it. It’s so beautiful. Dezzie paid an awful lot of money for this ring, much more than he can afford. What the hell is she going to do? Crying might not be a practical solution but at the moment it’s all she can do.

  The dressing room door flies open.

  ‘Oh sorry, I didn’t know you were still here, Maria.’

  It’s Alice. Maria tries to hide the ring and the fact that she’s crying but as she’s facing the mirror Alice has a pretty good view.

  ‘Are you okay, love?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine. Just a bit of post-show anticlimax, I think.’

  Which is a stupid thing to say because Alice obviously doesn’t have a clue what she’s talking about and now she’ll have to explain herself further. But Alice doesn’t seem to be listening.

  ‘To be honest,’ says Alice in a conspiratorial whisper, ‘I’m in here for a quick smoke, it’s raining heavy outside now, d’you mind?’

  Maria hesitates, ‘Well.’

  ‘Cheers love,’ says Alice as she takes her cigarette purse from her apron. ‘Bliddy Ray, he’s become a born again non-smoker. Nobody’s allowed a fag now that he’s given up.’

  ‘Has Ray stopped smoking?’

  ‘Aye; pain in the arse. He says we’ve to set a good example. There’s no smoking in or outside the building anymore, that’s it finished. Bliddy pain in the arse.’

  Alice takes a deep draw of her cigarette and blows out a long stream of smoke.

  ‘Here, I’ve got a juicy bit of news,’ says Alice, ‘the Headmistress has copped of with the Pastor. It’s official, he gave her a big bunch of flowers and snogged her right in front of everyone in the cafe. Been on the cards for a while, apparently.’

  ‘Yeah?’ says Maria.

  It is her only response. Silence falls.

  ‘Post-show anticlimax, eh?’ says Alice, ‘Never mind, love, When you’ve been in showbiz as long as I have, you get used to it.’

  A few more minutes pass in silence while Maria listens to Alice sucking hard, and watches the orange glow burning rapidly down the white cigarette, obliterating it, turning it quickly to cold grey ashes. There is something satisfying about it, something that just makes sense. The door opens again. This time it’s Ray.

  ‘I knew it! I could smell the smoke. I knew you’d be hiding somewhere having a fly one!’

  ‘Oh, dry your eyes, I’ve smoked it now anyway.’

  ‘Aye well, it’ll be your last. This is a non-smoking area as you very well know, Alice Boyd. And anyway, they’re all queueing up out there for coffee.’

  ‘I’m going, I’m going! See what I mean?’ she says to Maria. ‘After the feathers and sequins you always have to go back to old clothes and porridge. Nothing else for it.’

  Alice smiles, tucks her fag packet purse back in her apron and is gone.

  ‘Old clothes and porridge, eh?’ says Ray. ‘She’s full of it, isn’t she?’

  ‘Mmmm.’

  ‘But I suppose she’s right. That’s it all over. It’s going to be helluva quiet around here.’

  ‘Mmmm,’ says Maria again, it’s all she can trust herself to say.

  ‘Are you okay, Maria?’

  ‘Yeah, fine.’

  She had hoped that she might get the dressing room to herself to do a bit of thinking.

  ‘Sorry, you need some time on your own, don’t you?’

  Maria purses her lips and nods, managing to not look at him.


  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Ray begins to leave and then turns back.

  ‘I know you’ve got things to think about, and I don’t know what to say to help, I’m not very good at this kind of thing, but, it’s just … I might as well say it now Maria, or I probably never will: I think you’re great. You don’t know the power you’ve harnessed in this wee town. And I know you’re going to beat yourself up about Brian, aren’t you? I know what you’re like by now, but don’t, okay? You can’t protect people from life. It’ll happen to them no matter what you do. Anyway, I’m talking too much but I just wanted to say that I’m ready and when – and only if – you’re ready, and you’d like to talk, I’m here, okay?’

  ‘Okay Ray, thanks,’ she says quietly as he leaves.

  She takes a big breath in and holds it, steeling herself. Old clothes and porridge. She can do that.

  Dezzie’s right. About one thing at least. This isn’t the end of the world. The show’s been a steep learning curve but the most important thing she’s learned is that her life is bursting at the seams with love and commitment. She believed she was missing out. All these years she’s been making it hard for herself when really it’s quite straightforward. All is not lost. Dezzie’s right, she’s young, there’s plenty of time for what she wants.

  And now, suddenly, with Alice’s couthy ‘old clothes and porridge’ and everything that Ray has just said and no input whatsoever from Nelson and Arlene thank you very much, Maria understands what she has to do.

  The first thing she has to do is acknowledge her part. She’ll go home tonight and write up her report for Bert. She’ll come clean about assaulting Fiona with the crisps, after all, that’s where all of this started, where the rules were first disregarded. Everything went downhill from there: Martin and Brian drinking, the stupid anarchistic boys’ club, and of course, what Dezzie did to Brian.

  Brian is going to hate her for this.

  This’ll go all the way to the top, she won’t get the promotion, Mike will see to that.

  With one last look at the engagement ring she puts it down on the shelf in front of her. She does it slowly, watching herself in the mirror, a witness. She’s not going to London, she’s not going anywhere. She’s staying here, in Hexton, with Blue Group. She has a last look round the dressing room to make sure she hasn’t forgotten anything but there’s no hurry. The show’s over. Maybe next year the theme could be songs and routines from famous musicals, The Sound of Music, Cabaret, Chicago, that kind of thing. She’ll run the idea past Martin, Brian, Jane and Fiona once the dust has settled. For now all she has to do is get them organised with their coats and taxis and get them safely home.

  THE END

  Reading group questions

  What is the significance of the title? Does it imply provocation? And who are the ‘strange people’?

  ‘People in Hexton never speak to Blue Group. Apart from the odd chorus of Spot the Loony from hooligans, the populace largely shuns them. Hextors seem to believe that mental disability is contagious, keeping their distance and averting their eyes when Maria and her clients pass by. Shopkeepers speak only to Maria, and even then, reluctantly.’ Why do you think this is?

  What is Maria doing when she meditates?

  How helpful do you think Maria’s spiritual advisers are? Is it important that her spiritual advisors be wise people in real life? How does it affect her relationship with spirit-guide Arlene when Maria discovers real-life Arlene’s background?

  What are the problems affecting the people of Hexton? And why do they love to sing?

  Why does Mike have so little faith in Blue Group becoming integrated into the wider community?

  Why is Mike so hostile to Pastor McKenzie and his group?

  What are your first impressions of Dezzie and how do they change?

  What’s Ray’s role in the story? He says he believes in ‘faith ’n community’: how is this manifested?

  Why is Alice so hardboiled? And what softens her?

  Do you think it’s true that the young people of Hexton have a harder time than the pensioners?

  Who are the good guys in the story, who are the bad guys and do the lines between them ever get blurred?

  What greater purpose does the snooker table serve in the church?

  Does Maria respect the rules and authority figures? With what consequences?

  How much sexual freedom, support and opportunity should people with disabilities have?

  Parents and guardians of the centre’s clients have very different perceptions of their child’s disability – from Brian’s dad’s violence to Martin’s parent’s laissez-faire approach. What, in your view, would be most appropriate?

  Why does Bert ask Maria to keep his condition a secret?

  The story begins and ends with inappropriate sexual behaviour. How do Maria’s reactions to these events differ?

  What do you believe were Dezzie’s motives in his behaviour with Brian? Does Dezzie show humanity or does he have a God complex? Is it his fatal flaw?

  Are there any other messiah-like characters in the story?

  Does Maria make the right decision in the end?

  Why I wrote

  Only Strange People Go to Church

  LAURA MARNEY EXPLAINS THE INSPIRATION FOR THIS NOVEL.

  By the time I began what was to become Only Strange People Go to Church I was getting paid actual money to write novels. This gave me the freedom to work from anywhere, and so I decided to fulfil a lifelong dream and move to Spain. I randomly chose Barcelona and, I’m now willing to admit, perhaps this was a bit rash. I’d never been to Barcelona; I spoke little Spanish and even less Catalan, but worst of all, I didn’t have a single friend or contact there. I arrived in the city with nothing more than my laptop, my creative genius and a clean change of underwear.

  Despite my impulsive decision, things turned out OK. I found somewhere to live and began writing. Knowing nobody in Barcelona turned out to be a good thing: lonely for the company of my family and friends, my laptop became my new best friend. I told my laptop everything and we had many long and entertaining, albeit one-sided, conversations. The only thing that disturbed these cosy chats was the noise from the street.

  I began to notice that Barcelona people were always celebrating something or other. At least once a month all my neighbours were out in the street having a music fiesta, a poetry contest, a religious ceremony or an acrobatics display. There was always something going on. They even had a festival to celebrate leeks. They had leek-eating contests – Calçotada – and huge street parties where everyone sat at long trestle tables and enjoyed eating leeks together. Everyone except me, that is. I stood outside this community, my nose pressed hard against the glass, and it made me think of the community I had left behind in Glasgow.

  Some years previously, in the Govan area of Glasgow, I had produced two large-scale community shows not unlike Maria’s Diva Extravaganza. I worked with my business partner and close friend John Grant. While John rehearsed the schoolkids in circus skills, I took the drama group from the local adult training centre. Although I was never a key worker I regularly worked with and got to know a group of mentally disabled people and we produced comedy skits and sketches for the show. A week before the curtain went up, my partner John was killed in a car crash.

  The show must go on. I knew that if I stopped and let myself properly take in John’s death, the show would collapse. There were an awful lot of people involved: individual performers, the church choir, bhangra dancers, a disabled drama group, mothers and toddlers, the pensioner glee club and the retired musician’s orchestra – a whole community, in fact. They had worked so hard at writing their material, sewing sequins on their costumes and honing their performances. How could I let them down? John would never have wanted that.

  The performances were of course dedicated to John, and I confess that at the end of each show, on making the dedication speech, a golf ball always somehow got lodged in my t
hroat, but I never shed a tear.

  In the real life show there were none of the bad guys of the novel: no Aldo or Mike, no McGraw or Ronald – and there was no Dezzie either, thank goodness. The Dezzie/Brian scenario was entirely fictional, I hasten to add, but I was interested in the idea. I wasn’t entirely sure myself how I felt about such a relationship: it was a tricky one, and I was keen to explore it.

  I located the novel in the fictional town of Hexton, the idea being that a hex – a curse or magic charm – had fallen over the town: the curse when the factory shut down; the magic charm when the mysterious figure of Ray appears. This was based on the wee town of Kinlochleven that I had visited when walking the West Highland Way. Kinlochleven once had a thriving aluminium-smelting plant, but when I passed through it was like a ghost town, neglected and depressed, the people and businesses abandoned.

  I was excited about writing a story in which the main characters, mentally disabled people, are often invisible in our society. Writing convincing characters is daunting enough; to make them seem real they have to feel complex and a bit contradictory. I wanted to paint a ‘warts and all’ picture. I knew that it would seem cruel to criticise those who are already disadvantaged, but neither did I want to portray anyone as unnaturally innocent, as if they were saints. I wanted to show what I knew from my own experience: that disabled people are funny, wilful, smart, selfish, kind and incredibly annoying; exactly the same as the rest of us.

 

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