Shape of Snakes

number 18. 'Just let me get my breath back.' She took some deep breaths, then wagged a finger at me as she began to recover. 'Peter would counsel you strongly against this obsession with revenge, my dear. He'd say the only path to heaven is through forgiveness.'

'Mm,' I agreed. 'That's the advice he gave me when I told him about Derek and Alan.'

She tut-tutted crossly. 'Is that the time he let you down?'

I watched a car negotiate the speed bumps in the road. 'He didn't do it on purpose,' I demurred. 'He was like everyone else ... He thought I was hysterical.' I looked toward Maureen, who still hovered by her gate. 'I think I know why now. I never remained objective long enough to keep my voice under control. And that worries people.'

'But why Peter?' she asked curiously. 'Didn't you have anyone else to talk to?'

Only Libby ... 'It was the church more than Peter,' I said noncommittally. 'I couldn't think of anywhere else to go.'

'Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry. You really were let down then.''

I shook my head. 'Rather the opposite actually. I went in weepy and pathetic, looking for sympathy, and came out like an avenging angel.' I gave an abrupt laugh. 'I kept thinking, if I ever forgive, it'll be on my terms and not on the say-so of a fat, sweaty bloke in a dress who thinks I'm lying.' I sobered just as suddenly. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude.'

Wendy squared her thin shoulders and stood up. 'It's a good description of Peter,' she said tartly. 'He's an actor at heart so he's only really happy when he's in costume. He thinks it lends authority to what he's saying.'

'I was pretty peculiar at the time,' I said by way of apology, 'and he did try to be kind.'

'He's got no fire in his belly, that's his problem. I keep telling him his sermons are ridiculously PC. He's supposed to be addressing evil, not offering a policy statement on behalf of liberals.'

I chuckled. 'You'd be a thunderbolts-and-lightning vicar then?'

'It's the only kind to be,' she agreed cheerfully. 'A whiff of brimstone and sulphur puts sin to flight quicker than anything. And it's more dramatic. The fires of hell and damnation are a great deal more exciting than the bliss and majesty of heaven.'

I adored her ... for her openness ... her steadfastness ... God save me, her similarity to my mother ... but I could see she was too exhausted to take another step. I persuaded her to sit back down while I fished in my rucksack for the mobile I'd borrowed off Luke that morning for the purpose of calling a minicab. A car drew up beside us before I could find it.

'Do you want a lift?' asked Alan gruffly through the open passenger window as he leaned across to fasten his father's seat belt. 'We'll be passing Alveston Road.'

I was too startled to answer, and looked at Wendy.

'Thank you, my dears,' she said, rising graciously to her feet. 'That's most generous of you.'

Nothing more was said until Alan stopped his car in front of Jock's house. Derek and Wendy were content to appreciate the silence, while Alan kept darting me worried glances in the rearview mirror, his mouth working to frame a form of words that would be acceptable to me.

But it was only when he drew to a halt in Alveston Road that he found the courage to take a chance. He turned 'round. 'It's probably a bit late'-he faltered-'and I wouldn't blame you if said no-but I wish I'd never-Did Danny tell you I've been straight these fifteen years?'

I stared him down. 'If you want to say sorry, Alan, then say it. Don't spoil it by making excuses.'

He ducked his head in a scared nod, an echo of the schoolboy I had caught thieving from my purse. 'I'm sorry.'

'Me, too.' I held out my hand to him. 'I didn't help you when I had the chance and I've always regretted it.'

His hand was warm and sweaty in mine-and I can't say my flesh didn't crawl at the contact-but it felt like closure. For both of us. I toyed with warning him against interpreting it as a reason not to be honest with Beth, but Derek's presence was an optimistic sign and I held my peace. In the event I was glad I did.

'Just so you know,' he said, as I assisted Wendy out of the car, 'it wasn't us who put cats under your floorboards.'

I frowned. 'Does that mean there were no cats? Or someone else put them there?'

He jerked his head at Jock's front door. 'There was nothing Mr. Williams didn't know ... He used to watch everything us kids did from Sharon's window ... and the only reason he kept quiet was because the nigger called him a 'faggot.' He hated her for it 'bout as much as we did for being called 'trash.' '

I closed my eyes for a moment. 'I will be going to the police, Alan,' I said sadly. 'You do understand that, don't you?'

'Yeah.'

'Then do yourself a favor,' I said with a heartfelt sigh, 'and drop 'nigger' from your vocabulary because I will take you apart piece by piece if you ever refer to Annie in that way again.'

He nodded obediently as he engaged his gears. 'Whatever you say, Mrs. Ranelagh.'

Wendy rapped sharply on Derek's window. 'What about you?' she asked. 'Are you going to apologize, too?'

But he looked at her as if at an irrelevance before gesturing to his son to drive on.

We stood on the pavement, looking after them until they turned on to the main road. 'I think you've just been suckered,' said Wendy with a small laugh. 'What's the betting they head straight for the nearest cash-point so that Alan can drop Derek a hundred quid to vanish off the face of the earth?'