Nicola Barker - Darkmans

‘It’s there…’ the Reverend thumbed over his shoulder, ‘I just haven’t had a chance to draw it yet…’

‘Gaffar,’ Kelly pointed to the Reverend’s bedside table, ‘check out his top drawer for his sunnies, will ya?’

Gaffar promptly opened the drawer, poked around, and withdrew the Reverend’s glasses from inside.

‘Ay ay,’ Kelly slowly shook her head.

‘I said they were broken not lost,’ the Reverend huffed.

Gaffar tried them on. They seemed perfectly fine.

‘Those suit ya, mate…’ Kelly commended him, ‘you look like Ray Liotta in Goodfellas , but foreign, an shorter, an wiv’out the zits.’ She paused. ‘So I guess if they’re broke , Rev,’ she turned and delivered him a saucy wink, ‘then you won’t mind Gaff here takin’ ’em off your hands?’

The Reverend scowled. Gaffar removed the glasses and shoved them into his top pocket, delighted. The Reverend harrumphed, rolled on to his side and lay with his back to them. Kelly smiled at him, indulgently. ‘Just admit it,’ she taunted him, ‘you don’t need those specs no more, do ya?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ the Reverend barked. ‘Of course I do…’ ‘My arse! ’ Kelly grinned. ‘An’ I’ll tell you why not, too. Because from the moment we began dietin’ together you began to feel better …’ ‘ Rubbish …’

‘Oh my days !’

Kelly slapped her hand, excitedly, on to the Reverend’s tensed thigh. ‘I just had a thought , Rev…’

‘ What? ’ The Reverend’s tensed thigh now tensed up still further. ‘In your second vision you said how the house collapsed but the man was left standin’, yeah?’

The Reverend frowned.

‘I mean to say he weren’t hurt or nothin’…?’

The Reverend continued to frown.

‘Well that was you , yeah? Everythin’ collapsed but you was fine . It was meant to be a sign , see?’

‘I wasn’t fine!’ the Reverend rolled over to face her again, indignant.

‘I have a painful line of bruises all the way down my back. The doctor said I was lucky the pole didn’t fracture my spine …’

‘Nope.’ Kelly shook her head, ‘Not lucky …’

‘What? ’

‘Not lucky. He didn’t say you was lucky , he said it was a miracle . Remember?!’

She was grinning again.

The Reverend closed his eyes. He didn’t speak. Kelly leaned forward, confidingly. ‘I ain’t a fool , Rev,’ she murmured, ‘I know you’re pissed off wiv’ me. It’s written all over ya. Far as you’re concerned I’m just a pest — a dork, a dill . I don’t know nothin’ about nothin’. You just wanna get well rid an’ I don’t blame ya, neither…’ she paused, ‘but what I also know — in here…’ she pointed to her chest, ‘is that God’s brought us together for a reason , yeah…?’

‘I don’t care ,’ the Reverend said, haughtily.

Silence

‘Did you hear me?’

More silence

He slowly opened one eye and appraised Kelly with it. She didn’t seem in the slightest bit upset or intimidated. She was actually in the middle of sending a text. He opened his other eye and glared at her.

‘So what will it take?’ he suddenly demanded.

‘Huh?’

She glanced up from her phone.

‘What do you want from me, Kelly?’ He threw out his hands, dramatically. ‘What do I need to do? What do I need to say ? That I’m actually an abysmal priest? That I’m self-centred? Vain? Lazy? Complacent? An uninspiring orator? That I smoke Cuban cigars and drink too much Advocaat? That I don’t care quite as much as I should about the undeserving poor? That I download pornography? That I’m a fat-head and a hypocrite? That my life and my Ministry are a total disaster? Is that what you need to hear? Is that what it’s going to take to get you off my case?’

‘ Advocaat?! ’ Kelly exchanged horrified glances with Gaffar. ‘Are you serious ? I thought only grannies ever necked that crap.’

‘Look…’ The Reverend clenched his hands into fists. ‘I know you’re a good girl — I mean at some level. Foul-mouthed, abrasive , even, but fundamentally sincere…’

‘An’ you’ve got a nice bum,’ she volunteered (in the spirit of fair exchange), ‘for an old codger.’

‘…but you don’t actually know me from Adam , do you?’ he persisted. ‘I mean I’m a complete stranger. I could be a psychopath, a fraud, an imposter …’

‘ Sweet! ’ Kelly chuckled. ‘That’s well sick! I fuckin’ love the way your mind works…’

‘Just listen to me,’ the Reverend ploughed on, determined to get his point across. ‘If you’re serious about being a Christian, a real Christian, then take my advice and just…just…’ he faltered ‘…just do what E.T. did…’

‘Huh?’

‘Go home! Join a local congregation. Grieve for your brother. Care for your mother. Reappraise your life. Acquaint yourself with the Bible. Accept Jesus as your personal saviour. Ponder. Consider. Digest …’ She gazed at him, quizzically.

‘I’m perfectly serious , Kelly,’ he maintained. ‘Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned during my time in the Church, it’s that faith’s not ready-made. It’s not convenient. It’s not a quarter-pounder with pickled gherkins and extra cheese. Faith is a slow meal. A nourishing meal. It’s plain and healthy and sensible. A kind of emotional casserole …’

‘Fine,’ Kelly butted in, ‘I get ya.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I know it ain’t gonna be no stroll in the park …’ Kelly conceded ‘…but what I also know,’ she continued staunchly, ‘is that you had those three visions an’ two already came true. First my bro’ died…’ she held up one finger, ‘Then the ceilin’ fell down…’ she held up another, ‘so what about number three? Huh? ’

The Reverend collapsed back on to his pillows, covering his face with his hands.

‘The visions were metaphorical ,’ he groaned.

‘ Balls! ’ Kelly rubbished him. ‘You wanna know what I think?’

The Reverend shook his head. He didn’t want to know.

‘I think God’s tryin’a tell you somethin’,’ she insisted, ‘but you’re too shit-scared to listen. So he sent me , because I ain’t. Fact is, he’s here , Rev. In the air. In this room. All around you. Free will or no free will. He’s a livin’ God an’ he can do anythin’ he damn well chooses. He can push a person off a wall, tap ‘em on the shoulder, ring ‘em on a phone…’ Kelly grabbed the phone from her lap and held it high, for effect.

The phone rang. They all stared at the phone.

‘Hello?’ Kelly pressed the phone to her ear.

‘Forgive me?’ Harvey Broad bellowed jovially. ‘What the fuck for , ya crazy Sort? I’m takin’ ya ta bloomin’ Florida , remember?!’

‘What’re ya doin’?’ Kelly demanded.

‘Doin? I’m phonin’ you , ya plum! Little Kelly Broad! My favourite nice!’ He paused ‘… niece ,’ he corrected himself.

Kelly’s eyes narrowed into slits.

‘Sorry to hear about Paul,’ he added (almost as an afterthought), ‘I just had your old ma on the blower burnin’ my bloody ear about it, but like I says to her, I says, “Dina, the kid made his own choices, yeah? ‘Nuff said.”’