1983

‘Good day, Father.’

Nurse White holds open front door as BJ and Reverend help Jack down stone steps and across gravel to car.

‘Wait,’ cries Nurse White. ‘He hasn’t any slippers, any shoes!’

BJ look down at Jack’s bare feet, a tiny trail of blood upon cold, sharp gravel -

Reverend is holding open car door: ‘He’ll soon be home, don’t worry.’

BJ push Jack’s head down into back seat. BJ slide in next to him.

Reverend puts seat back and gets in. He closes door -

‘Soon be home,’ he repeats as he turns car around and heads back down long drive to stone gateposts and main road, trees black and bare but for old nests and carved hearts that cry:

‘Hex, hex, hex, hex, hex, hex -

‘Hex, hex, hex, hex, hex, hex -

‘Hex, hex, hex, hex, hex, hex.’

It is raining and it is night in ghost bloodied old city of Leodis when big black car turns off Calverley Street and on to Portland Square, in shadows of Cathedral and Court.

Reverend parks before number 6.

There is a light in a second-floor window.

Reverend opens door and pulls back seat.

BJ help Jack from car and up three stone steps and through front door. BJ lead him across carpet of brittle leaves and buried letters and up staircase to first floor, across landing and up stairs to second -

To door of Flat 6 -

Door where someone has written on letterbox:

Ripper -

Door where someone has added two sixes to first:

6 6 6 -

But there are so many, many doors:

Many doors to hell;

Open -

All of them open:

Everybody steps inside.

There is smell of amaranth and aldehyde.

BJ and Jack walk down passage into front room:

There are curtains whipped and candles fervid, there are words upon walls and photographs upon floor, there are shadows and there are sounds:

‘… no not she e loved her e destroyed thee evil within her it had to be done e am relaxed what had to be done has been done thee evil in her was destroyed carol was good but they had put thee evil into her e had to kill it he primed me to do it this last night we went to his church in fitzwilliam and stayed all night he will tell you it was a long night he danced around me and he burned my cross but he was too late my cross was tainted with evil he tried oh how he tried but e had to do it e had to destroy it e am relaxed e am at peace it was terrible he had me in thee church all night look at my hands e was banging them upon thee floor thee power was in me e could not get rid of it and neither could he e was compelled by a force within me which he could not get rid of e felt compelled to destroy everything living within thee house everything living including thee dog everything living but that was a lesser evil it is done now it is done thee evil in her has been destroyed it was in carol it used my wife my love oh hell e loved that woman no not carol she was good e loved her…’

Tape stops.

There is a white towel upon bed.

Reverend Laws draws curtains.

He places a wicker chair in centre of room.

‘Come here,’ he says.

Jack doesn’t move.

‘Come to me,’ he says again.

He is not looking at Jack -

He is looking at BJ.

BJ do as he says.

He takes off BJ’s shirt.

‘Sit here,’ he says.

BJ do as he says.

He picks up a razor from white towel.

Jack is stood in middle of his room in his white pyjamas and his bleeding feet, tears in his eyes.

Reverend finishes. He blows across top of BJ’s head. He brushes loose hairs away. He walks back over to bed. He puts down razor. He stands behind BJ.

He is facing Jack, whispering:

‘Thy way is thee sea and thy path in thee great waters, and thy footsteps are unknown.’

Bathroom door opens.

A big skinhead in blue overalls is standing in doorway.

He has a Philips screwdriver in one hand and a ball-peen hammer in other.

‘This is Leonard,’ says Martin Laws. ‘You remember Little Leonard?’

BJ close his eyes.

BJ wait.

BJ feel cold point of screwdriver on crown of skull -

Head bobbed and wreathed, this is BJ’s choice.

Chapter 49

It was the night before Christmas. There was an enormous bungalow made of white feathers sat on the top of a big black hill, fat white candles burning in the windows. I was walking up the hill in the rain and the sleet, past the giant orange goldfish in the pond. I rang the doorbell. There was no answer. I opened the door. I went inside. A fire was burning in the hearth, the room filled with the sounds and smells of good cooking. Under a perfect Christmas tree, there were boxes of beautifully wrapped presents. I went down the hall to the bedroom. I stood before the door. I closed my eyes. I opened them. I saw stars, stars and angels. I tried the door. It swung open. I saw her; my star, my angel. She was lying on the bed under a beautiful new carpet, her beautiful, beautiful hair splayed out across the cushions, her eyes closed. I sat down on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning my uniform. I slid quietly under the carpet, nuzzling up to her. She was cold. She was wet. Her hair all gone. I tried to get up out of the bed but arms held me down, children’s arms, branches -

‘Uncle Maurice! Uncle Maurice!’

I open my eyes.

Bill’s daughter is looking down at me.

I breathe. I breathe. I breathe.

‘Are you OK?’ she asks.