Chosen (23 page)

It was nearly dark and a street lamp slanted through the struts of the balcony and the window frame, making a complicated grid of shadows on the wall and floor. Some of the herons were trapped in shadow cages. A Salvation Army band started up, a few honks and squeals before launching into ‘Once in Royal David's City'. I wriggled towards the window in the sleeping bag to look out – they were on the corner outside the pub. There was a tree in the pub window. The scene looked like a corny Christmas card; you only needed to sprinkle on a bit of glitter.

Hannah, Bethel and Kezia came into the room, all giggly and fluttery. They pulled me out of the sleeping bag. ‘Oi!' I said.

‘Who's getting married?' Kezia was a plump and rosy American with a hairy face, a bit older than the rest.

‘Married?'

‘So that your family can be there,' Bethel explained. ‘Adam's in the downstairs bog, shaving!'

‘No!' I said. ‘But I love his beard!'

Hannah had begun to brush my hair, which was damply snarled, and I yelped like a child. ‘Stand still,' she said. ‘We have to try and make you beautiful.'

‘No one asked
me
,' I said.

Bethel went out and returned with a clean gown, a bit smaller and at least, I noticed gratefully, warmer-looking than the polyester thing I'd been wearing.

‘No flowers,' Kezia grumbled.

‘And anyway, we can't get married just like that,' I said. ‘There are legal papers and stuff.'

‘Got any make-up?' Hannah was pulling harder at my hair than she needed to. She began to pin sections of it painfully against my scalp.

‘I came with nothing,' I said, aware of the biblical ring.

‘Get mine,' Kezia said, and Bethel fetched a filthy zip-up pouch, leaking patchouli oil. She outlined my eyes in kohl, and filled my lips in deep maroon.

‘It won't be a real wedding,' I said, when she let me have my mouth back.

‘Better?' Kezia asked Hannah, who frowned at me before saying, ‘Best we can do.'

‘We need flowers,' Kezia said again. Then she laughed. ‘Hang on, people.' She hurried out.

‘Let's try a bit more blusher,' Hannah muttered. ‘I never thought Adam would.'

‘He said,' Bethel explained to me, ‘that Jesus told him we shouldn't get into couples. It's too individual.'

‘That's a contradiction in terms,' I said. Hannah was dabbing at my cheeks. I could see in the mirror she was making me look clownish.

‘It's different for Adam,' Hannah said, an edge of sarcasm in her voice. ‘
Jesus
chose a wife for him.'

‘I think that's enough.' I ducked away from her red-smeared finger.

†

Kezia came bounding back in with someone's Christmas wreath. ‘A good cause,' she said. With a pair of nail scissors she snipped a couple of red plastic roses out of it. ‘I could make a table decoration,' she said, removing some holly and a few gold-sprayed fir cones. ‘Think they'll notice?' She held up the denuded wreath. It actually looked better, from a minimalist point of view. She went to sneak it back.

The doorbell rang and I heard it being answered and Derek saying, ‘Where is she?' I looked in the mirror and there I was, all dolled up, and that was the right expression given the way my face seemed to have been drawn on.

‘Melanie?' Aunt Regina called up the stairs. I went to the top and looked down. Her face was tilted up at me, soft in the lamplight, beautifully withered.

‘Come here.' She held out her arms and I ran down the stairs and into them. She smelled goatish and powdery and she let out a little sob as she hugged me.

Derek stood shaking his head. ‘What's this get-up?' he said, looking me up and down.

Stella was standing in the shadow. ‘Stell,' I said, and hugged her. She felt insubstantial in my arms; thin, yes, but more than that. It was as if some essence within her had ceased to exist, or maybe it had never been there in the first place.

‘Have you really got religion then?' she said in my ear.

At that moment I didn't know. It wasn't about religion; it was about Adam. A beardless stranger came into the hall, and I saw that it was him.

‘Alan,' Derek said.

‘Adam now,' I said.

‘I thought he called himself Bogart?' Aunt Regina said.

Adam radiated patience at their folly. ‘What's in a name?' he said, smiling beatifically at them.

‘In which case, I'll address you as Alan,' Derek said.

Adam shrugged. ‘No problem,' he said, but I caught his twitch of irritation.

‘Will someone explain to me what this pantomime is all about?'

‘We're getting married,' I said.

‘Married!' Stella said. ‘What,
now
?'

Derek choked.

‘Married?' Aunt Regina said. She and Derek exchanged looks. ‘We'd like a word with Melanie,' Aunt Regina said. ‘In private, if you don't mind.'

‘You won't change my mind,' I said, and Adam beamed approval at me.

‘Can we get out of this perishing hall?' Derek said.

We went into the sitting room, softly lit with many candles. The fire was crackling and Kezia had made a decoration out
of holly, fir cones and the filched roses. It looked cosy and festive, though there was smoke leaking out of a crack in the chimney breast.

‘I want to talk to Stell.' I took her hand and led her up to the bedroom. ‘How are you?' I said.

‘Fine.'

‘How's school?' These were not the questions I wanted to ask or that she wanted to answer. She made a throaty non-committal noise.

‘Where's Kathy?' I said.

‘She stayed home so there was room in the car – in case.' Her eyes met mine and she raised her eyebrows quizzically. ‘She's going to cook the fatted calf,' she said. ‘Well, kid actually.'

‘Do
you
want me to come back?' I said.

‘Up to you.' We could hear raised voices down below.

‘They were arguing in the car,' Stella said. ‘Nearly all the way from Peebles. Married, Mel!' she added, narrowing her eyes at me. ‘Are you sure?'

‘It's not real anyway,' I said. ‘I mean there's no vicar or council thingy or anything.'

Stella frowned. ‘Why bother then?'

To keep Adam happy
was a possible answer, but I didn't give it.

‘If it
was
a real wedding, would you?' Stella asked.

To my own surprise, I nodded.

‘Well then,' she said. ‘You know what I think?'

I shook my head.

‘You two were made for each other.'

‘Really?'

‘Seeing you together . . .' She waved her hand and smiled.

‘He makes me feel safe,' I said. ‘You know that Cat Stevens song that says,
You know how I love you honey
? Well I always,
always
wanted someone to call me honey, Cat Stevens ideally . . .' We both giggled. ‘But Bog–, I mean Adam, he does call me that and he does make me feel loved and he makes me feel . . .' I hesitated,
‘important.' For some reason that word closed my throat up for a moment and I had to strain not to cry and ruin the make-up.

‘Are you coming down so we can get this farce over with and get back on the road?' Derek called up the stairs.

‘You're on then,' Stella said.

I felt so close to her. I think it was the best conversation we ever had. There was one more question that I had to ask her. ‘You don't still want to die, do you?'

She smiled and shrugged. ‘Can't think of any reason for living.'

‘But you said you were happy.'

‘I am.'

Adam opened the door. ‘Come on you two.'

I grabbed hold of Stella's twig-like arm. ‘We're still talking,' I said, but she pulled herself away.

‘Can I be bridesmaid?' she said. She was wearing a red velvet dress under her coat, quite suitable for a winter wedding.

The room was crammed. The ceremony was brief and to the point.

‘Do you take this woman, Melanie Anna Woods, hereafter to be known as Martha, to be your wife in the eyes of our Lord Jesus Christ?' Isaac said.

‘I do.' Adam's hands were warm as they grasped mine. I looked up into his face and I did wish he hadn't shaved his beard off; it showed that he had a weak chin. But still, it was his beautiful melting brown eyes that mattered, that flowed with love, and that held mine as Isaac asked the reverse question of me.

‘I do,' I said. To my surprise, Adam put a ring on my finger, thin and silver with a turquoise stone. I found out afterwards that he'd borrowed it from Hannah.

‘You may kiss the bride,' Isaac said, and we did kiss, though it made me blush with Derek and Aunt Regina watching.

‘Where's the champagne?' Aunt Regina said.

‘We're teetotal,' Kezia told her.

‘If that doesn't cap it all!' said Derek.

‘We have a ginger cup,' Kezia said. ‘Come through into the kitchen.'

The table was spread with a huge bowl of hummus, bits of carrot and chunky home-baked biscuits. Bethel ladled the hot gingery drink into mugs.

‘Ten minutes,' Derek said.

‘You're surely not driving straight back to Scotland?' I said. ‘That's mad!'

‘Mad?' Derek spluttered. ‘Did you hear that, Regina! Do you hear what the pot is calling the kettle?'

‘Now, now,' Aunt Regina said.

I tried to sneak off with Stella again, but Aunt Regina got hold of my arm. ‘Congratulations,' she said, and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Take no notice,' she added, meaning of Derek's grumpiness. ‘And we'll break the journey at Birmingham – Derek has family there. I hope you'll be very happy.' I don't know what it cost her to say that, and sound as if she meant it too.

‘Thanks,' is all I could think of to say.

She sipped her drink. ‘And you can always come home if you change your mind. Mmm, this is rather good, very festive; you'll have to get me the recipe.' She pressed her lips together and looked at me with over-bright eyes. ‘I didn't approve of your friendship with –' She couldn't decide what to call him. ‘But you're older now and if you still think you love him –'

‘Not
think
, do.'

‘– after all this time, then good luck to you. Will you bring him home for Christmas?'

‘Maybe. Aunt Regina, I'm worried about Stella.'

‘I've got my eye on her,' she said.

Derek came over and glowered at me, and then suddenly grabbed me hard and pressed his lips against my hair. ‘Good luck, you silly, silly goose,' he said. Startled, I glanced at Aunt Regina who was giving me a
see, he loves you really
look. I gave him a hard and meaningful squeeze around the waist.

†

After Aunt Regina, Derek and Stella had driven away, I went into the bathroom to let out a few tears. This is not how you should feel on your wedding day, I know, and it wasn't from any doubt about Adam, but I couldn't help thinking about the poor kid roasting in the Rayburn and how jolly it would have been at home, with pea-pod wine or Derek's farty home-brew. But I'd made my choice and it was the right choice. I got over that wave of sadness as you always do. Learn to let it wash over you and let it go, that's what I advise. Life is full of losses – and all rehearsals for the big one in the end.

Adam continued to get his messages from Jesus, always heralded by herons, which meant he had to spend a lot of time on Romney marshes, the nearest reliable habitat, and the Soul-Life Community grew larger. Jesus told Adam he must accumulate money in order to spread the word, and gave him a new method that brought in so much more than selling pompoms, fudge or flowers. The work was not savoury and I was shocked at first and hardly believed that Jesus could have come up with it. But you see, you can do anything, however bad, if you believe the ultimate cause is good. When I objected, Adam said that Jesus sees into your heart and understands your intentions.

It went like this, and we called it fishing. Bethel, Kezia, Hannah and I (and the other women whom we recruited) would go out with the leaflets, preaching and asking for donations. Usually, of course, people ignored us, skirted round us or crossed the road. Sometimes we'd hook a person and get them to take a leaflet and put some money in our collecting boxes. And the women's particular job was to be bait for likely looking men, to behave in a flirtatious and deferential manner towards these potential catches. Surprisingly often, we persuaded one to come back for a cup of tea and a further chat, and many of those who did ended up in the boudoir, as we jokingly called the basement room of the second squat: a damp place bedecked in Indian bedspreads with joss sticks constantly burning to hide the
smell of the three paraffin heaters it needed before it was bearably warm. The money from the sex was handsome, but handsomer still was the money from the blackmail. Because, of course, many of the fish were married, or had other reasons not to want their activity known.

I did not personally take part in the sex, because I was Adam's wife, but I was good at the hooking and the reeling in. It was a sort of sport.

While the deed was occurring, one of us would take the wallet and remove – not steal – any interesting documents, have a look, jot the necessary information down and then replace them. And, from behind one of the draped bedspreads, a photograph would be taken. Abel set up a darkroom and developed the shots. And, a few days later, the fish would get a letter, enclosing the evidence, and the blackmail would begin. We didn't ask for extortionate amounts, but we did require a monthly commitment to the Soul-Life Community. It would show up as such on his bank statement and if questioned he could pass it off as a charitable donation and make himself look good. So where was the harm in that?

Not every fish would pay up, of course, and there were threats of the law, but because of the evidence of their fornication they'd drop them if we did. You can't win them all, but we became adept at recognizing which types were most likely to succumb and to pay up. It amazed me how successful this ploy was. After a year the bank balance was burgeoning and a new member, an ex-accountant, Obadiah, began to work full-time on the books. Members of the community couldn't own money or property independently – everything was donated to the cause – and Obadiah began to invest in the stock market, for which, it turned out, he had a talent.