The Face

by Ivan B

  “Of course.”

  With a flourish he signed something in the file. “That’s the leasing agreement on the concrete house. Should be in place by Wednesday.”

  “So quick?”

  “The owner is in a hurry to lease the property, so would I be if it looks anything like the picture.”

  Bishop Dermot passed over a sheet of paper. “That’s Bishop Georgios’ e-mail, phone number and address. Contact him and grovel. Now leave before we change our minds.”

  Brian thanked them and made a swift exit. Had he stayed he might have been surprised to see them slap hands in the nature of a ‘high-five.’ Sometimes, just sometimes, they could solve even the most complex problem and still come out on top. And this traveller’s project was high on their agenda so they’d had to work hard for a solution. Both of them hoped that it would all be worth the effort.

  Brian arrived back to find Joan peering into the oven and Janis laying the kitchen table. Joan indicated the back door with her thumb. “They’re in the garden.”

  Brian stood undecided by the door. “Go and talk to them first,” said Joan, “tell us the details later, but is it good or bad news?”

  “Good,” said Brian.

  “Good,” echoed Joan, “now go and put them out of their misery.”

  He found them sitting on the grass round the other side of the greenhouse. Amy looked miserable and Bau didn’t look any better. Amy turned her hazel eyes on him. Her contact lenses glinted in the sunlight. “Have we ruined it all for you? Oh I don’t want to ruin it for you.”

  He squatted down and put and arm around each of them before kissing Amy on the cheek and Bau on the forehead. “No one’s ruined anything, just a slight change of plan. I’m still going to work with the travellers, but I won’t become vicar her, on the other hand we can still all live together in the concrete house.”

  Bau let a sigh of relief escape from her lips. She’d just spent well over an hour keeping Amy calm and was almost exhausted with the effort, especially when she’d been fearful of the worst herself. Brian sat down; “It’s like this…”

  “I still don’t quite understand,” said Bau.

  Amy intoned, “Brian can minister to the travellers, but not minister in our church. We can all live together, but we mustn’t brag about it. Brian will get paid for his work with the travellers, but will have to top up his salary by marking exam papers.”

  Bau nodded, “That makes all that clear, but what I don’t understand is why they didn’t just throw you out.”

  Brian moved from squatting to sitting. “Guess it’s because it takes time to build up trust with the travellers. I’ve been working with them for years.”

  “Have you talked to Bishop Georgio?” Amy asked enthusiastically.

  “Yes, I had a brief chat with him on my mobile. He made it quite clear that I was only to work with travellers and their families and not go swanning around his churches. He also told me not to expect a licensing service as my missionary licence is coming by post. He also made it quite clear that if he ever saw my name in a paper with any sort of derogatory by-line then it was bye-bye Brian.”

  “Ouch.” Remarked Bau.

  Brian grinned. “Basically he’s doing a favour for the bishops here, the result of which is that I’ve been pushed to the margins. Actually I don’t care; most of the people I’ll be working with have been pushed to the margins. Still it does mean that I’m not unemployed.”

  Amy became downcast. “I didn’t mean to…”

  Brian put an arm round both of them. “No remorse. Neither of you have done anything. It’s me that’s fallen in love with both of you. Let’s get on and enjoy our life.”

  They hugged for a moment, and then went inside. Nobody stated the obvious; they might want to get on with their lives, but Bau was still a convicted murderer and out on licence; a condition that could be terminated at any time.

  Brian had to repeat all his experience for Joan, who asked some different, but pertinent, questions, mainly concerning pensions and spouse provision. Brian had to stop and think. “Hey,” he said, “you’re right. Amy will get a state pension because of my NI contributions, but Bau won’t.”

  He looked at Bau. “Sorry, I should have thought of that, I’ll take out a private plan for you to the same amount.”

  She shrugged, “You needn’t do that.”

  “Yes I must; equality is the order of the day.”

  Janis listened to the interchange, pensions were far from her mind, what she had noticed was the easy conversation. Just when had her mum and dad stopped having easy conversation? She couldn’t remember.

  From then on it became a lazy day. All the women went off for a walk and Brian had to go into Ipswich to sign some papers regarding the house and contact the school to give in the required notice. He spent the whole afternoon trying to get his affairs in order. By five o’clock he’d sent his last e-mail. He sighed as he sat back. His aim had been to relieve himself of some stress and the continual internal vertiginous feeling about his life not being under control. Now he’d cleared the hurdle of the bishops some of the unease had dissipated. He was back on track, not the track he’d originally planned, but back on a stable track. At least as stable as it could be at present. After all he still had a wedding and a new job to face, not to mention moving house and getting to know Janis and… He stopped himself from going down the uneasy turbulent thought path and concentrated on what he knew. He had a job. He had two lovely women. He’d regained his sister and he’d met his daughter. That was enough for now. The rest would pan out, he was sure it would pan out given time.

  Joan waited until hot-chocolate time and after Janis’ departure for bed to announce that she was leaving after breakfast the following day and taking Janis with her. The disappointment must have shown on Brian’s face for she grinned. “Don’t worry Brian, just a couple days of shopping in London and Queenie will meet us there. We should be back by Friday and stay till Sunday and fly back straight from here, that’s if it’s OK with you.”

  There was mutual agreement round the table that it was. Joan looked at Brian, straight in the eye. “It’s time Janis got to know you, so plan something. Just you and her if you know what I mean.”

  She looked at Amy, “No offence girls, but given half a chance he wouldn’t do anything positive and expect it all to happen around him.”

  Bau clapped her hands, “We’ll make sure he gets something suitable planned, not a trip to the zoo.”

  Brian was last to bed. He found a very sleepy Amy, she gave him a worried smile, “Sorry Brian, took a sleeping tablet, been an anxious day and I was feeling jittery.”

  He hugged her close, “I think you were wonderful today, it must have been an anxious time for you and you managed to stay calm.”

  “Bau was wonderful,” she sighed, “without her I think I may have gone over the edge. I still blame myself that you lost the job here.”

  He tenderly kissed her, “To be with you I’d move to Alaska. So no blaming yourself, I’m a grown man OK?”

  “OK?”

  She yawned and Brian kissed her nose, “You go to sleep. If you wake up and need me, I’ll be here.”

  She said something and drifted off to sleep. Brian lay beside her and contemplated his life. Had he really meant what he said? He decided that he did. He began to contemplate his future and the now familiar feeling of it all being out of control once again began to overwhelm him. Just how did he get to know a daughter he’d never met for thirteen years? Should he offer to support her? Just how was he going to get on with Bishop Georgio, who seemed to what him to be active but not visible? Just how many exam papers would he have to mark? And what of Bau? Would she have to go back that dreadful prison and if so how would she cope? The thoughts span round in his head and eventually he checked Amy’s breathing to ensure she was asleep and crept downstairs. He made himself a cup of tea and went into the downstairs lounge. The little row of guitars reminded him of Bau and her predicament.
He sighed, “Do something Lord. Right this injustice. I know I’m not your best servant and I know that I’m probably taxing your patience at times, but please help Bau. What purpose would it serve for her to go back to prison?”

  He pondered and continued to pray, “And Amy Lord. She’s trying hard and I know that she and I will be good partners. Please help her Lord to find ways to manage the mental scars she has, and find a pathway back to health.”

  He gave a longer sigh. “This is becoming a bit of a shopping list Lord, but there’s also Joan and Janis. I’m powerless here, but help them to find a way through the maze of life that’s entangling them and help me to get to know Janis.”

  He pondered for a moment. “Last. But not least there’s my forthcoming ministry at Knot’s Wood. You know how inadequate I feel here. Help me to minister in your name and give me the wisdom to know where to start.”

  He said a few more personal prayers and ended with the Lord’s Prayer. Eventually he sat back and felt much more relaxed and at ease with himself. Five minutes later Bau entered the room like a silent bony ghost with, as was becoming usual, a condom in hand. She glided up to him and sat on his lap. “Can’t sleep?”

  “Just a few worries. I’ve prayed about them.”

  He ran his hands down her back. “Thanks for keeping Amy calm today, I have a feeling without you she might not have coped.”

  “She’s getting stronger. It helped me too, I was worried that we’d really fouled up your life.”

  He kissed her on the cheekbone. “Nonsense. I’ve made my choice and I’m happy about it. What other man has not one but two gorgeous women in his life.”

  “Four,” she murmured, “You’ve now got Joan and Janis as well. They’re back in your life now. She seems a good kid. Sam seems to be a philandering swine.”

  Brian held her close. “He used to love her so much, I wonder what went wrong?”

  “Desire,” she said simply, “he gave in to desire.”

  “Well I desire you,” he whispered.

  They made long slow passionate love on the settee.

  It was 3am when Brian eventually made it back to bed. Amy was still fast asleep and he joined her in less than two minutes. Two hours later he did one of those genetic caveman throwbacks by awakenings from deep sleep to fully awake in under a couple of seconds. He lay awake listening to his heart pounding and wondering what had startled him. It took him at least a minute to realise that there was no longer a warm body lying next to him. He focused his eyes on Amy’s naked silhouette. She was sitting on the window ledge with the sash window fully up and her feet dangling outside the window. In one movement he threw off the bedclothes, leapt across the room and hesitated; he didn’t want to startle her. He moved to stand beside her; she turned her head and glanced at him, smiling in the process. “Amy,” he said quietly, “what are you doing?”

  “I was hot,” she said wistfully, “so I thought I’d sit here and cool down.”

  He moved behind her and put his arms around her. “Why not come inside, I wouldn’t want you to slip off the ledge and hurt yourself.”

  She hummed a little tune to herself for a few seconds, “It’s OK,” she replied, “there’s grass under the window.”

  Brian held on tight, “That’s two storeys down Amy.”

  She suddenly appeared to look around her and realised that she was not at home in Verity’s bungalow. “Oh,” she gasped. Brian carefully helped her in and gave her a full hug. He murmured, “I was so worried that you’d fall,” while reminding himself to limit the travel of the window later in the morning. She responded with a hug that would have cracked coconuts. After that one thing led to another and in one seemingly effortless motion they moved from hugging vertically to lying on the bed and making delightfully enjoyable love. It was the perfect end to a most unusual day.

  Chapter 15

  Judgement

  Brian gave a final wave and closed the front door. Amy tenderly watched him. “They’ll be back in a couple of days.”

  “I know Amy, but I wish they were staying her, there’s so much I need to tell Janis.”

  Amy stroked his chin, “You’ll have a lifetime for that.”

  He sighed and nodded, she assessed the situation. “Would you like a little space? Some peace and quiet for a moment?”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Of course not.”

  She kissed him on the cheek and wandered off towards the kitchen where Bau was clearing up the breakfast dishes. Brian went into George’s study, sat in his armchair, thought of all the years he had missed with Janis, and burst into tears.

  An hour later he was still in the study, but now thinking of the future, not the past. His musing was disturbed by a short sharp ring of the door bell. The very short sharp burst of the bell made him uneasy, people just don’t normally ring like that. The doorstep was full of a portly uniformed police sergeant with a wrinkled face and a kindly expression. He gave Brian a professional smile, it sufficed to make Brian extremely uneasy and relaxed at the same time. “Good morning sir,” he said politely in a well rounded Suffolk accent, “Is Miss Chasle in?”

  The use of Bau’s real name caused Brian’s heart to execute a double flip. “Yes.”

  “Would you mind if I came in and had a word with her sir? Better than the doorstep.”

  Brian swallowed, “You’re not about to take her away are you?”

  “Goodness gracious no sir. I just need to talk with her. It shouldn’t take long.”

  Brian ushered him into the lounge and went off to find Bau. She and Amy were in the utility room examining a pile of washing. He whispered urgently, “There’s a policeman here to see you.”

  She looked up with a start. “He says he hasn’t come to take you away.” Brian reassured.

  She straightened up and grabbed hold of Amy’s hand. Silently they all trooped into the lounge and say down with Amy sandwiched between Bau and Brian. The policeman smiled. “Sorry to disturb you madam, but I’ve been asked to deliver a request to you.”

  Bau was momentarily fazed, the police sergeant was being polite to her. “Which is?” She replied huskily.

  “Judge Ruth Kenton-Harris is currently undertaking some work at Ipswich Crown Court and she has requested that she would like to see you in her chambers at three o’clock this afternoon.”

  Bau sat transfixed, was this how the last judgement was to come? Not as a paper missive, but in some dingy judge’s chambers. “Is that normal?” Asked Brian.

  The sergeant screwed up his wrinkled face. “Been in the force well over thirty years sir, can’t say I’ve ever carried such a message before.”

  Bau half frowned, “I know you sergeant, you came to my house the day Lucy died, you made me a cup of tea.”

  He nodded, “Sad day for you madam, we do our best in such circumstances.”

  Bau managed a smile, “You were a point of stability in an otherwise crazy day. Thank you for that.”

  He nodded and stood up. “Three o’clock, don’t keep her waiting; judges hate to be kept waiting.”

  He turned to go and noticed Amy staring at him with a peculiarly lost expression. He gave her a smile. “Do I know you?” She asked.

  He half shook his head, “Probably not. I was called to your grandmother’s bungalow the day you were taken ill. Glad to see you’re a lot better.”

  Brian had a sudden notion. “Were you around when Lillian and Barbara Dale went missing?”

  “Before my time sir.”

  He hesitated, “You have an interest in the case sir?”

  “Idle curiosity, that’s all.”

  He escorted the police sergeant to the door and opened it for him. “Thank you,” he said, “for treating Miss Chasle with respect.”

  The sergeant gave him a long look. “For what it’s worth sir I can’t believe she killed her daughter. Sometimes we get cases we can’t forget, Miss Chasle’s face that morning is etched on my mind. A mother that had lost her only child, not remorse or
vain grief, but total anguish. I hope it’s good news.”

  He walked out, put on his flat cap and strode down the drive every inch a proper old-fashioned policeman.

  They paused at the oak door the court usher had indicated. Brian took Bau’s hand and wondered about Amy. At her insistence they’d left her with Verity; she just couldn’t face entering a courthouse. Inside the room the judge, a woman of ebony skin and deep brown eyes set in an intelligent face, sat behind a large desk like some spectre of doom. She motioned for them to sit down. Brian was sure he could hear his own heart beating at a thousand beats a minute, this was crunch time. Bau looked like she wanted to sink into the chair and disappear for ever; this was sooner than she expected, but would it be what she hoped for?

  The judge looked at Brian. “Are you Miss Chasle’s solicitor?”

  He was once again startled at the use of Bau’s original name. “No, I’m a friend, the Reverend Brian Noames.”

  She nodded and looked at Bau, “As you are aware I have been studying your case and I have come to some conclusions, but I wanted to talk them over with you. It goes without saying that this is unusual, but I have a choice of two decisions and I need your help to choose between them.” The accent was part Scot and part Northumbrian.

  She paused and gazed at her notebook. “First let me say that I see no reason, on the evidence supplied at the case and at the first appeal, to overturn your conviction.”

  Bau went white and Brian instantly felt that he was on the edge of a bottomless precipice and about to fall in. In that instant he appreciated why Amy had had a nervous breakdown. “However,” said the judge, gaining back their full attention. “However, I am concerned about the summing up by the judge in your first trial and the poor directions he gave to the jury concerning the difference between murder and manslaughter. I also feel he made a dreadful omission in not reminding the jury that your daughter’s life expectancy was two months at the most when she died. For those reason alone I could, if I were so minded, order a retrial.” She sighed, “But frankly Miss Chasle in my honest opinion that would be a risky business for you, especially if the prosecution actually read the toxicology report on your daughter. If you go for a retrial there is always the possibility that you could easily end up with your original sentence from your original trial. However one can never predict the outcome of a jury trial, as you well know. If I were to order a retrial, and this is only one option and my least preferred option, I really do not have enough grounds to leave you out on licence. You would have to prepare your case in prison and in my estimation the retrial could take eighteen months to two years to begin. These things are never undertaken swiftly.”