Crocodiles & Good Intentions

by Liza Cody

  ‘I might’ve known you’d criticise. I only want to know what to wear.’

  ‘No you don’t. You’re asking a much more profound question than that; you want to know the ethical ramifications of continuing to dress as a moral, virtuous, honest woman.’

  ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I’m more concerned with financial and legal ramifications. It seems I can make way more dosh dressed as a nun. But is it legal? I mean, could I be done for obtaining money by false pretences?’

  ‘How would I know?’ She got up to stretch. ‘But asking for money, or love for that matter, by pretending to be more deserving than you are is ethically wrong.’

  ‘You even sound like a nun’s dog now. Where does this moral judgement come from all of a sudden? I thought we always just did what we did to get by.’

  ‘I’m not talking about religious morality, idiot.’ She leaned against me in a quite friendly way. ‘I’m talking about the questions you should ask yourself. Like who will I hurt if I act this way or that? What will be the consequences?’

  ‘I wish Pierre and Smister had asked those questions before they snatched Connor.’

  ‘Me too. He’s a very disturbed little boy. He needs the love of a good dog.’

  ‘I’m afraid he’d mistreat a good dog.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said again. ‘It’d have to be a dog bigger and faster than him – one who wouldn’t mind administering a reproving nip if he got out of control.’

  ‘Not you, then?’

  ‘Are you insane? Oops, silly question – you just asked a dog what to wear.’

  The sky was still as dank and dark as my heart and the forecourt was deserted. I put on a layer of my old clothes under the habit in case I got cold or needed a quick change. I looked as eccentric as ever and a bit chunkier.

  I gathered up the corgis’ leads, called to Electra, and hit the road.

  The corgis seemed to know where they were going. It wasn’t where I wanted to go. If I took them back home I’d be double-teamed by Gamma Dora and Misha and forced to take responsibility for a shaven-headed damaged monstrosity of a child. I couldn’t do that. Believe me, I can’t. Look at me. See me. I can hardly take care of myself and Electra.

  ‘Be a grownup,’ Electra advised. ‘Take charge.’

  But I was having too much trouble imposing my will on the corgis. Eventually Electra succeeded in leading them away from their home block and we walked through the night.

  Half an hour later we found ourselves outside Little Miss Perfect’s house. The lights were all out and the occupants were in bed so I crept around to the back wondering if I could wake Smister by throwing a corgi at his window.

  10

  Emotional Blackmail

  ‘What in fuck’s name do you think you’re doing?’ Smister whispered when he opened the kitchen door. He was wearing ivory satin lounging pyjamas and his hair was artfully dishevelled.

  ‘That was my question,’ I whispered back. ‘You kidnapped a child – hardly a rational act.’

  Electra slipped past us into the kitchen to drink from the stainless steel bowl the Ice Queen had provided for her. I dropped the corgis’ leads and let them follow.

  Smister said, ‘You kidnapped the kidnapped child too. Hardly a rational act either. Cherry’s off her tits pissed with us, Pierre’s doing his cobblers and what’s with all the corgis?’

  I ignored the question. ‘I was reclaiming Electra. I didn’t know you’d stashed Connor in the back of the Ambo.’

  ‘And that’s the other thing Cherry’s off her tits about. If you ask me she was more freaked about the dog than the kid.’

  ‘Tough shit,’ I said. ‘Electra’s my dog.’

  ‘You’ve no idea what me and Pierre had to give up to stop her from going to the cops. He’s had to promise to take her to New York instead of performing in the Parade of the Super Tramps which we always do together. Always. She booked the tickets on line straight away so he can’t get out of it.’

  ‘Well, poor little you. Here’s me crying for your disappointment. What did you think you were doing, snatching Connor?’

  ‘We couldn’t help ourselves. I stuck Pierre’s phone through the letter box to take a picture – like we said we would – but the little brute snatched it away and bit my thumb. We couldn’t leave his phone there so Pierre had to break the door down to get it back. And then we saw the state of the kid. Besides which, we couldn’t just leave him there with no front door, now could we?’

  ‘You could’ve done something sensible like take him to a hospital.’

  ‘Don’t you dare lecture me about “sensible”. What’ve you done except exchange the little psycho for three corgis?’

  ‘For your information, I’m taking them home. But I’m in a real bind about Connor. He’s being looked after at present, but your errand of mercy was reported on local radio. Did you have to call yourselves Sisters of Sweet Charity? Could you be more obviously phoney?’

  ‘We got yelled at by an underage ho. It was the best I could do.’

  ‘Well you’ve got to do better,’ I said. ‘I’m in a jam and Connor is too, and you’ve got to do something right for a change.’

  ‘It’s your problem now. You stole the Ambo and Electra so you ain’t welcome here any more. And I’m on probation for being a bad influence on darling Pierre.’

  ‘What about Pierre?’ Pierre said, switching on the kitchen light. He took one horrified look at me, Electra and the three extra dogs and promptly closed the kitchen door.

  Smister opened it again and hauled him inside.

  ‘Gimme a break, guys,’ he hissed. ‘What’re you trying to do – get me killed?’

  ‘This is as much your crap as mine,’ Smister hissed back.

  ‘You got me into this,’ I whispered. ‘The least you can do is help me out.’

  ‘You got us into this,’ Pierre said.

  ‘Humans,’ Electra said to the corgis, ‘always blaming one another. No wonder there are so many wars. And who suffers, I ask you? Kids and dogs.’

  ‘Children should be used to suffering,’ I said. ‘They’re bottom of the human food chain. Everyone’s bigger and stronger than them.’

  ‘That’s emotional blackmail,’ Smister said.

  ‘See?’ Electra said to the corgis. ‘Human kindness has a lot to learn from canine kindness.’

  Harry sat up and scratched behind his ear and the other two copied him.

  ‘Shish,’ I said to Electra.

  ‘She’s hammered,’ Pierre said to Smister. ‘How’d she pull that trick – dressed as a nun?’

  ‘Raw talent,’ Smister said to Pierre.

  ‘Shut up, all of you,’ I said. ‘I need you two to nun up again. We have to get the Ambo off the Texaco forecourt, pick up Connor from Mama Misha and Gamma Dora and take him to Casualty at some hospital or other.’ It was the only way I could see out of the manure I was in.

  ‘Don’t tell me to shut up,’ Smister and Electra said together.

  ‘Where did you leave the ambulance?’ Pierre said.

  ‘Who’s going to hospital?’ asked Cherry, opening the kitchen door.

  ‘Oh shit, shark attack,’ I said.

  ‘It’s her fault,’ Smister said, jerking his bitten thumb at me.

  ‘Honey, you’re awake,’ Pierre said. And if you haven’t seen a nineteen-stone motor-mechanic look nervous as hell, let me tell you, it’s a sight to see.

  Cherry said, ‘I told you both, that alky never sets foot in my house again.’ She was wearing a tastefully sexy ashes of roses nightie. She stooped to pat Electra, showing more fake-tanned cleavage than I ever wanted to see.

  ‘Who’re these little guys?’ Pierre said quickly as if he was catching sight of the corgis for the first time.

  ‘Wills, Harry and Diana,’ I said.

  ‘Well halloo,’ Cherr
y cooed, crouching to pet them too. They accepted her with dignity but without warmth as if they knew her chilly nature just by the smell of her hand. They rose in my estimation. If Pierre had the instinct of a dog, or even a dog’s sense of smell, we’d never have walked into this mess.

  There was a moment of silence when nobody seemed to know where to begin. Then Cherry said, ‘The dogs can stay but she goes. Now. And I don’t care what happens to the little boy as long as it isn’t in my house.’

  Almost simultaneously Pierre said, ‘Honey, I know it isn’t your responsibility, but I guess it is ours.’ And Smister said, ‘It wasn’t my doing, honest. Please don’t chuck me out – I’ve nowhere else to go.’ He was afraid of her – really afraid. Electra wandered over to him and nudged his hand. She can love anyone, forgive anyone, so it’s worth repeating – she’s a better bitch than I am.

  I clicked my tongue and she came to me. I said, ‘Don’t leave my side.’

  She said, ‘I don’t know what your quarrel is with Cherry, but she looks after me. Isn’t that in her favour?’

  ‘Even Hitler liked dogs, so I’m told.’

  ‘Are you talking to me?’ Cherry said.

  ‘I’m talking to my dog.’ I said. ‘And don’t worry, we’re going. I just thought the guys might like to help me sort out the mess they made. Besides, I have to take the corgis home. They’ll be missed.’

  ‘Where did they come from?’ Pierre asked. ‘And where is Connor?’

  ‘Does it matter?’ Cherry said. ‘As long as he isn’t here.’

  Neither Pierre nor Smister said anything to this. So I said, ‘I know the English care more about dogs than children, but even so, aren’t you being scarily cold-hearted?’

  ‘Don’t you dare call me cold,’ Cherry said. ‘That child needs professional help. Bringing him here did more harm than good and it put all of us in danger… ’

  ‘Exactly, honey,’ Pierre cut in. ‘But the whole chain of events was accidental – nobody’s fault.’

  ‘The little bugger bit me,’ Smister complained.

  ‘Whose idea was it to dress up as nuns?’ Cherry asked.

  Pierre ducked his head. ‘It’s a very rough neighbourhood. We needed some sort of disguise.’

  ‘You can’t judge us by what she looks like.’ Smister pointed at me. ‘And don’t blame us that she’s here. We didn’t invite her.’

  ‘I’m going.’ I was disgusted with both of them for trying to placate such a cold-hearted woman. Maybe she was shit-hot in bed and that was the source of her power.

  ‘You aren’t taking Electra,’ Cherry said, advancing on me.

  ‘She’s my dog,’ I said. ‘Where I go she goes. Lump it.’

  ‘I’ll call the police. They’ll put you back inside.’

  ‘Lend me your phone,’ I said to Pierre. ‘I’ll lay counter-charges. You’re trying to steal four valuable pedigree dogs.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Electra said simply. The Royal Ones took the compliment as their due. I felt elated. I was reclaiming power. Maybe it was the diazepam but I suddenly felt I’d spent long enough at the mercy of the Devil and all his minions. It was time to fight back.

  Cherry Ice looked as if she was going to nut me. Pierre put his arms around her. ‘Honee,’ he said in a tone of voice which made me want to boot my guts up without the help of Antabuse.

  ‘Honee,’ he said, ‘you’re absolutely right about everything. And I’m wrong. I’ve been a damn fool. But this is our mess and we should all clean up our own messes, right? And we can’t get the cops in – you agreed. Why don’t you go on back to bed where it’s warm and snugly, and I swear this‘ll be straight by morning.’

  ‘You’ll make her go away?’ She cuddled up to his enormous chest like a little girl to her daddy. ‘But I want to keep Electra.’

  My guts spasmed again.

  ‘I swear.’ He made a ferocious face at me over her head.

  ‘I trust you,’ she said in her sick-making girly voice, and with that she toddled off to bed – pausing only to give me a cold triumphant smirk.

  Oh what I wouldn’t have given to kick her manipulative arse! My foot ached with frustrated desire.

  ‘Momster!’ Smister planted himself between me and the door. ‘Give it up. You’ve lost. Think about someone else’s needs for a change. I’m cold and tired and I think the little freak’s given me rabies or gangrene.’ He examined the invisible wound on his thumb.

  Pierre said, ‘No. We gotta do this thing. She’s right; we gotta take him to A and E. We can’t leave him with strangers.’

  So I told them how the Ambo died in the Texaco forecourt and about Gamma Dora and Mama Misha. I told them about Lance, Tony, Jimmy Singh and the new battery.

  ‘You made enough dosh to pay for everything?’ Smister exclaimed. ‘And a new battery?’

  ‘It won’t be new,’ Pierre said moodily. He was keeping an eye on the kitchen door as if he could still see Cherry’s retreating rear. He looked older and tireder but no wiser.

  11

  In Which I Save A Life

  Three nuns and four dogs arrived at Misha’s door just as Lance and Tony were leaving.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ Tony said. ‘Mum’s doing her nut.’

  ‘Reinforcements,’ I said. The diazepam was wearing off, Electra wouldn’t speak to me, and all I wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

  ‘Lie down and die,’ the Devil whispered in my ear. ‘It’s just a long and peaceful sleep. Go on. You know you want to.’

  ‘What you bleedin’ done to my darlings?’ Misha flew out of the door and gathered the Royal Ones up in her arms.

  ‘Gawd’s wrinkly old scrotum, more firkin’ silly sisters,’ said Gamma Dora. ‘We thought you’d gone AWOL.’

  ‘Sister Angela Mary sent for us,’ Smister said piously. ‘We thank you for your charity.’

  ‘Charity be firked,’ Gamma Dora said. ‘We ain’t giving the money back. Don’t even think about it. We earned it.’

  ‘We wouldn’t want you to be out of pocket,’ Pierre murmured gently. ‘But your true reward will be spiritual.’

  ‘Not if I can firkin’ help it.’ Gamma Dora gave him her combative foggy stare. ‘I want mine firkin’ now.’

  ‘You already had yours,’ I said, too tired to be nunly.

  Oh my mind – my piss-piddle cracked bent scooped-out mind. Everyone’s talking at once and they aren’t actually saying what’s coming out of their mouths.

  Smister’s mouth says, ‘Charity,’ but his real voice says ‘Look how pretty I am. Be charmed and don’t hurt me.’

  ‘Gimme what’s mine,’ says Gamma Dora’s mouth. Meaning: ‘Gimme everything. I won’t be satisfied till I got all yours too.’

  Misha mouths, ‘My dogs,’ but what I hear is, ‘My babies.’

  ‘We should take Connor now,’ Pierre says with his mouth. ‘Lighter diction,’ goes his mind, ‘don’t talk higher, talk lighter. Feel holy. What would Julie Andrews do?’

  Satan says, ‘There’s too much noise. You’re tired, you haven’t eaten or slept. Jump off the balcony. That will solve everything.’

  But when I looked around I realised that there was no balcony. This was Misha’s block, not Castle Cropper with its outside walkways. Also – and this was the loopy bit – I was walking out of the main entrance, turning left and leaving all the fuss and fighting behind. My hand, of its own accord, felt for Electra’s slender skull and soft ears and there she was, walking silently beside me.

  ‘Plan B,’ said Satan, ‘chuck yourself under a bus. It would have the added benefit of snarling up morning traffic for hours.’

  ‘Too messy,’ I said. ‘And what about Electra? If I’m gone Chilly Cherry will take her for sure.’

  ‘Cherry’s going to have her anyway,’ Satan smirked. ‘What Cherry wants Cherry gets. I make sure of that. She’s un
der my protection, in case you hadn’t guessed. I look after my own.’

  ‘So do I,’ I said. ‘Electra’s my own. Not yours and certainly not Miss Self-Righteous’s.’

  ‘Wanna bet?’ he said, sniggering. ‘I just thought you might like to spare yourself the pain of separation. A little mess now against inevitable pain later. How about it?’

  I was standing with my back to the grimy door of a café. A couple of guys in blue overalls and thick parkas stopped and tried to sidle by without pushing me out of the way. One said, ‘You look frozen, Sister.’

  Behind him I saw a bus, it was a number 666, or it might’ve been 999 upside down. I can’t quite remember because the next thing I knew I was lying in the middle of the road with the bus driver and one of the workmen kneeling on the tarmac beside me. The driver was saying, ‘… out of nowhere. Is she all right?’

  ‘Dunno mate,’ the workman said. ‘She’s still breathing but she took a hell of a knock.’

  ‘Yes, hell,’ I muttered. ‘The Devil told me to.’ The dark grey dawn, cut through by the dazzle of the bus’s headlights, made me feel as if I was in a play. I was isolated in a pool of light, while on the other side of the road traffic roared past without stopping. I turned my head and saw the crumpled remains of a blue bicycle dying by the kerb. My heart broke for it.

  ‘It wasn’t the Devil,’ the driver said. ‘If you hadn’t done what you done someone could of been killed. I could of killed someone. I could of killed you.’

  The workman said. ‘I never saw no one move that fast.’

  I turned my head again and saw that the bus driver had gone to sit on the kerb next to a skinny man in a spandex cycling suit. His orange helmet rested in his lap and he was nursing a bloody gash on his knee. He was white as a corpse.

  He said, ‘She pulled me off of my bike.’

  ‘Thank your stars she did, mate,’ the workman said.

  ‘Never, never try to overtake a bus on the inside,’ the driver said. ‘I could of killed you. You should know better.’