ChapterEight - Meeting the Apostles
Why worship beings from a higherplane?
Why do acts of righteous pain,executed in thy holy name?
What is this thing if not a weak man’sself-delusion?
Shrivelled up excuses, a morass ofgross confusion.
– Religion
– By Gerald Mann, Poet, 1968.
Billsat in the back of the family Rolls, gazing out of the window, watching thetrees give way to weather-beaten stone houses as he entered Underwood. He wasso glad his mother had agreed to let him go back to university.
Brimstone Manor felt more like aprison than a home and he’d breathed a huge sigh of relief when Mordred hadtaken him off in the Rolls. The more he pondered it, the more mysterious theold house seemed. Why were rooms filled with complex looking laboratoryequipment? Who were mother’s strange friends that seemed to come and go, dayand night? Doctor van Devlin, Inspector Ferret and the others gave him thecreeps, but the weirdest person in Brimstone Manor had to be his seriouslyderanged mother. She’d told him Lilith and Ophelia were evil and needed to beseverely punished, tortured even. Was she mad? He resolved to keep the girls asfar away from her as possible.
The car went past the Unicorn pub,across the village square and stopped half way up the side street that led toArthur’s house. Mordred opened the door and Bill sprang out and rang the bell.
Arthur’s mother opened the door. Shehad on a floral dress and apron and had two Labradors either side of her, whostared inquisitively at Bill.
“Hello Mrs. Small.”
“You can call me Daisy you know.Arthur’s just getting ready, late as usual.”
“I will Mrs. Small.”
They went through the tiled hallwayand into the messy kitchen lined with brass pots. Sitting at the large kitchentable was a middle-aged man with glowing red cheeks, a bulbous nose and bushyeyebrows. He was wearing brown corduroys, a battered tweet jacket and waspulling on a pair of wellington boots. It was Arthur’s father, Jim.
“Got to get going my sweet,” he saidto Daisy. “There’s a cow in labour down at Dale farm.”
“But what about your breakfast? Youcan’t do a calving on an empty stomach.”
Bill noticed an untouched plate ofbacon and eggs and a hunk of doorstop toast on the table.
“Sorry love. Sounds likecomplications.”
Jim picked up a Gladstone bag. “Niceto see you my boy,” he said, giving Bill a quick wink as he marched out thekitchen.
“Hungry?” said Daisy.
Bill thought about his life at theManor. His mother had slept in late, so hadn’t been up to see him off. He wastoo shy to ask Mordred for some breakfast, so he was pretty hungry. “Well... Idon’t want to be any trouble.”
Daisy slid the bacon, eggs and toastacross the table and passed Bill a clean knife and fork. “You might as wellhave that, saves giving it the pig. I’ll put the kettle on.”
As Bill tucked into a slice of thickbacon he realised it was one of the nicest things he’d ever ate. “Where iseveryone, Mrs Small, I mean Daisy?”
“Davy and Jimmy are over at Mick’sgarage. They’ve both joined a motorcycle club – said they were now members of‘The Pirates’ or some such nonsense – and are tuning up a couple of Nortonswith Mick for some rally or suchlike. Rosie’s gone off to school early,rehearsing with the drama club.”
Daisy poured the tea and sat down atthe table, putting two steaming mugs down on the table.
“Now then, how’s it going with you mylad? You look a little troubled. I know you came back home with Arthur in themiddle of the night, after being gone only a day. Bit of nerves away from home?I’m sure you’ll settle no trouble.”
Bill looked at Daisy sipping her tea,at her mess of curly blonde hair and kind ruddy face and felt like he couldtalk to her about anything. His past was a blank that nobody at Brimstone Manorwanted to tell him about, but maybe Mrs. Small could help.
“I was just wondering,” he saidcautiously, “if you know my mother?”
“Well no, I don’t really know her. Thefolk up at the Manor keep themselves to themselves. I hope you don’t mind mesaying but most people in the village think they’re a queer lot, but sayingthat, you seem like a nice lad.”
“I must admit my mother does have somevery unusual friends. Did you ever see me around the village when I was a kid?What did I get up to?”
“What a strange question! No, I neversaw you about so I thought you moved here recent. I’m guessing you lived withyour dad?”
“So I don’t come from Underwood?”
“Not unless your mother locked you upin a cupboard for eighteen years,” said Daisy with a chuckle. “What a lot ofsilly questions!”
Bill looked into Mrs. Small’s eyes andhis lip trembled. “Daisy, I’ve got a problem. I don’t remember. I don’tremember anything. There’s something wrong with me.”
Bill’s eyes filled with tears andDaisy gave him a tentative hug.
“You don’t remember a thing?”
“Nothing past six months ago.”
Daisy looked at Bill in astonishmentfor a few seconds, then said. “Well I’m sure it’ll all come back. Trust Daisy.”
Arthur came into the kitchen, wearinga denim jacket, an orange shirt with a huge collar, and bell bottom denims witha silver belt buckle shaped like a skull. “Hello there amigo,” he said with agrin.
Bill quickly pulled away from Daisyand tried to compose himself. “Are you ready?”
“I certainly am. Let’s split.”
The boys went through to the hallwaywith Daisy following, carrying a small brown paper package. She handed it toArthur. “Don’t forget your sandwiches, ham and cheese.” She straightened hiscollar and brushed his shoulders. “Now you be careful. And next time you comehome can you make it a civilised hour?”
“Bye mum.”
Arthur stepped out the door and Daisysaid to Bill in a quiet voice. “Any time you want to talk, I’m here.”
The boys went down the path and gotinto the back of the Rolls, waving at Daisy as the car pulled away.
“Last night was insane,” said Arthur.“I’ll never trust a girl, or a dog again. What a beast!”
“It had those horrible yellow eyes anda halo of light, like those beast people I keep seeing. Mother said that if Isee another animal
