Beautiful Child (2 page)

‘Aw, Ann!’ greeted Brendan warmly, ‘Where would we be without you?’

‘Sit yourself down, Brendan and I’ll see to you.’

‘I will sure enough, Ann’ said Brendan who pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. He was in full priest’s gear but he’d taken off his white dog collar and rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt. He’d miss these mornings with Ann. She’d always been more than just a friend and he’d miss her physical presence in his daily life. It would be one of the things that reinforced the loneliness he feared might overwhelm him once he didn’t have the structure of the church to sustain him through the dark days.  

Ann poured some tea for him. He always looked in need of nourishment when he came in from performing early morning Mass, that and the fags that he now had to smoke outside. Years ago in Ireland he’d signed the pledge never to drink alcohol. But he more than made up for it with the amount of cigarettes he got through. Sometimes those attending early morning Mass witnessed the burning of incense having the same effect on his throat and chest as the cigarettes did. Sometimes he could barely get through the Mass without constant coughing fits. It was why they were so poorly attended when people knew he was doing them.

‘You’ve been a God send to Phillip since you came here,’ she said, ‘there were nights when he almost seemed too exhausted to get himself to bed.’

‘I know,’ said Brendan, rubbing his chin, ‘and what’s going to happen to this place when both you and I retire in a few weeks’ time? I still haven’t heard from the Bishop about getting another priest to come here permanently to work with Phillip. And who could replace you, Ann?’

Ann blushed. ‘You know who, Brendan. It’s going to be Joan Fitzgerald.’

‘Oh but she won’t make cakes like you do!’ he groaned.

‘And why would you care? You won’t be here so stop being so uncharitable.’

‘Alright, boss,’ said Brendan. He smiled at the plate of eggs and bacon that Ann placed before him. ‘ Just how I like it,’ he said, ‘the eggs runny and the bacon soft.’

‘I should know what you like by now, Brendan, after all these years,’ said Ann.  

‘And back then we didn’t have any problem getting priests.’

‘Back then the church didn’t have any trouble getting priests to come to anywhere,’ said Ann, ‘but you’ve kept on coming back.’

‘Like the proverbial bad penny.’ Added Brendan with a wink at her.

‘I wanted so much for our Matt to go into the priesthood,’ said Ann, sighing like she always did when she thought of it, ‘but it wasn’t to be.’

‘No,’ said Brendan. ‘ It wasn’t but Matthew has a very worthy career in medicine. Priests and doctors both give to the community we serve. And as for your Susie, well she’s doing fine running the family business, Ann, which must make you very proud. I’d say your lot were doing alright.’

‘I’ve much to be grateful for, Brendan,’ said Ann.

‘And much to look forward to,’ said Brendan, ‘like Susie’s wedding for instance. That’s going to be a grand affair.’

‘It is,’ said Ann, ‘but I’ve still no grandchildren though, Brendan.’

‘They’ll come, Ann’ said Brendan, ‘I’m sure of it.’

‘Well I don’t know when Susie will feel inclined to give in to the natural forces of nature,’ said Ann, ‘she’s too busy being a career girl. And as for our Matt… well he would’ve been headed for happiness if the devil hadn’t got in his way and turned his life into darkness.’

‘Is that your view or his, Ann?’

‘It’s mine, Brendan, as you well know.’

‘Would you take all that bitterness out of your voice, Ann? I’d have been looking to you to show some love and compassion.’

Ann sniffed. ‘Yes, well, let’s just say I have to pray to God for the strength to do that where Matt’s so-called lifestyle is concerned.’

‘And I can see you’re not listening to the Almighty’s responses.’

‘God always listens, Brendan,’ said Ann, ‘but I’m only human after all although I’ll try. I’ll try, Brendan. For your sake, I’ll try.’

‘Good.’

‘But if our Matthew doesn’t repent for his sin then I shall surely not see him in Heaven with me.’

‘Love the sinner and condemn the sin, Ann.’

‘Oh I know that, Brendan,’ said Ann, impatiently, ‘but I can’t stop him from leading a sinful life.’

‘Hope is the last thing you should lose in this instance, Ann.’

‘But His Holiness the Pope said again just last week in Rome that those who lead the sinful life that Matthew does shall not be welcomed into Heaven.’

‘Then we  must pray harder than ever that the blinding light of Christ shall rip the sin from Matthew’s otherwise noble life, Ann.’

‘We shall, Brendan.’

‘And being a doctor is a noble life, Ann, no matter where else he lets life take him.’

‘I know, Brendan, I know.’

‘And he sticks to that practice right in the middle of one of the most impoverished areas of the city,’ said Brendan, ‘that’s got to say something good about the man and his values.’

‘You’re right there, he does care for the people he sees, I’ve seen him in action and it makes me proud. Perhaps I expect too much.’

‘And with regard to the Holy Pontiff, Ann, I don’t believe he is always infallible.’

Ann gasped. ‘Brendan!’

‘Well I don’t, Ann.’

‘But isn’t that what’s wrong with the Church today, Brendan? People are picking and choosing whenever it suits them. This Pope is trying to bring back the discipline and the obedience that others have let slip.’

‘This Pope needs to remember what it’s like to be a human being, Ann.’

‘I’m lost for words, Brendan.’

‘Well I know you wouldn’t expect me to talk like this but as I get closer to the exit door I find my tongue getting a little looser.’ said Brendan. ‘A little reflection does none of us any harm and if you can believe in Matthew as a good person… ‘

‘…which I do, Brendan. He’s the first one I ever turn to whenever there’s anything wrong in the family.’

‘…well then you can learn to accept that he finds happiness in ways that you wouldn’t have chosen for him but which are not necessarily going to send him downstairs. Am I making sense or talking out the back of my arse?’

Ann laughed out loud. ‘Brendan, you could always work your way through my worries with your words. How is that?’

‘Simple.’ said Brendan. ‘I’m Irish and words were made for us. Now pour us both some more tea and we’ll create ourselves a little bit of Heaven around this table before all the flotsam and jetsam of daily life starts turning it into Hell.’ 

Kieran Quinn was in the shower when he heard Sara let herself in. It was so much easier now she had her own key to his flat in Deansgate Locks, just south of Manchester city centre and his flat mate didn’t mind especially as his girlfriend had one too. He wiped himself dry with a towel and then wrapped it round his middle. He walked through to the hallway and was already hard as he watched her strip down to her bra and pants. She was wearing the black lace underwear that he loved. Then she took off her bra and slid her pants down her long legs. Kieran curled up the corner of his mouth and breathed in deep.

‘I got you some perfume.’

‘I’ll take it later,’ said Sara.

They jumped on each other and she lifted up her legs and wrapped them round his waist. He’d been away for a week and she was desperate to feel him inside her. He pushed her up against the wall and started giving it to her. She was wet, gloriously wet and he’d perfected the art of getting to the point of orgasm and then holding back just to drive her crazy. He was a strong young man and he could keep this going even as his muscles were holding her in such an indecent position. He could feel her hands grasping his hair and then her nails digging into the top of his back. They were both noisy with their gasps and moans and eventually he gave up control and let himself come. Sara could feel so much of it as he pulled himself out of her. They were breathless and panting. Sara let her feet drop to the floor and the muscles in her legs relax. Kieran leaned up against her and they kissed.

‘Now how about a drink, DCI Hoyland?’

‘I need one after that, PC Quinn.’

Kieran poured them each a glass of champagne and they lay down naked together on the sofa in the living room like two spoons in a drawer with Sara leaning back against Kieran who had his arm wrapped round her breasts. Her free hand was resting on the outside of his thigh.

‘Well even by your standards, lover, that was pretty amazing,’ gasped Sara.

‘I aim to please, madam,’ said Kieran who was glad to be home. Much as they liked to consider themselves to be free agents with no strings attached to their liaison, Kieran was getting more out of their relationship than just the sex of a lifetime. There was something about being with an older woman like Sara that he wished every man of his age could experience. He’d lost his virginity at the age of fourteen and since then he’d never gone short. But he’d never had anyone like Sara. When he was old and grey he’d remember these times with a woman who’d made him feel more alive than he’d ever dared to before. The only trouble was he couldn’t imagine anybody being as free as Sara was. She wasn’t hung up about anything to do with sex and for a young man of twenty-five it was as if the devil had sent him an angel. Nobody else would ever come close.

‘I thought you might be all spent after your lad’s holiday in Spain,’ she said, running her fingernails up and down his leg.

‘I backed out of going on the pull the last two nights of the holiday.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ said Kieran, ‘I was saving myself.’

‘Well how sweet is that? I’m flattered.’

‘You know I haven’t even unpacked yet,’ said Kieran, ‘I didn’t get in from the airport until just after three.’

‘When are you back at work?’

‘Late shift tomorrow.’ said Kieran.

Sara threw her arm back and placed her hand round the back of his neck. She let out a sigh of contentment.

‘Don’t tell me you’re satisfied already?’ said Kieran.

Sara smiled. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I’m just letting you know I’m glad you’re back.’

Sara glanced round at these now more than familiar surroundings. The flat was such a lads place. Kieran and his flat mate had two calendars stuck on the wall featuring barely clad women and the stack of DVD’s next to the TV were all action films containing little dialogue or characterisation beyond knowing why someone would want to shoot themselves around a city on the other side of the world.

‘I’m glad to be back.’

‘So what was your scorecard out there?’

‘Five.’

‘Five?’

‘Well I was only there for seven nights and, like I said, I did abstain on the last two nights.’

‘I’ll bet it was as easy as buying them a drink.’

‘It wasn’t tough.’

‘Especially with this tan you’ve got.’

‘You like it?’

‘I love it,’ said Sara, ‘although judging by the size of your white bits your swimming briefs wouldn’t leave much to a girl’s imagination.’

‘I’m proud of what I’ve got.’

‘You should be.’

Sara turned herself over and took his face in her hands. One day he’d father the most beautiful children. She loved his thick dark blond hair and his green eyes. She loved his chest hair that was shaped like an upside down triangle and that tapered into a thin line down his stomach to his groin. Maintaining a physical attraction for him was easy. Knowing that she’d one day have to see him go off with some pretty young thing was beginning to bother her in a way that she found annoying. She hadn’t counted on this happening and she’d have to be careful not to let it show.

‘You did say it was alright?’ he said.

‘What?’

‘Me going with other girls?’

‘Oh yeah,’ said Sara who certainly didn’t want to give away that she’d actually missed him for more than just the carnal. ‘I was just interested to know, that’s all.’

*

Matt Schofield was getting ready to see his afternoon patients. The surgery was a single storey grey building with iron bars at the windows and a metal fence surrounding it. It had to be done up like Fort Knox because of all the break-ins. Usually it was down to local addicts who tried to help themselves to a different kind of currency from money. The surgery was in the middle of four tower blocks and at the top end of a two mile stretch of council houses that had been built in the 1950’s and which had only just been modernised to bring the toilet inside, have a shower and a modern kitchen fitted and central heating installed. Some of the houses had two or three steps up to the front door and these had also had handrails fitted to make it easier for those residents who were no longer so agile on their feet. The modernisation work had brought a stream of residents into Matt’s surgery though, all complaining about it all being ‘too much of an upheaval’ for them. Poor sods, Matt had thought. None of them had ever known what it was like to improve their lot and now they needed tablets to calm their nerves because the council, using government grants, was making life better for them. When Matt had asked one lady if she wasn’t just a little bit pleased that it was all being done she replied, ‘What do I want with a flaming shower, for God’s sake? I have a good soak every Sunday night before Songs of Praise and that does me.’  It had all proved to Matt that no matter how much is done for some people they are just never going to be happy.

There was a knock on his door and Matt’s practice partner and best mate, Charlie Baxter, popped his head round. They’d been best mates since the day they met when they’d started medical school together.

‘Hi! Got a minute?’

‘Sure,’ said Matt, ‘so when do you want me to have the kids?’

‘How did you know I was going to ask you that?’

One of the things Matt liked about Charlie was that he was always easy to read. He was a poor little upper class rich boy from the very right side of the Scottish tracks. He’d never had much in the way of bother from his career diplomat father and housewife mother. They’d sent him to boarding school whilst his father’s career took him all over the world leading to his final posting as British ambassador to Norway. He’d recently retired and now Charlie’s parents were living in what amounted to a mini castle up in the Border area near Berwick-upon-Tweed. Girls had always fallen at Charlie’s feet. He had all the charm along with the sandy brown hair and green eyes and he just had one of those faces that would make him look about thirty all the way through to his fifties. It wasn’t fair. Matt hated him really. He couldn’t stand the sight of the bastard. 

‘Call it an educated guess,’ said Matt.

Charlie ran a nervous finger along the inside of his short collar. ‘The thing is, mate, Natasha has got this champagne lunch organised with some of her flying friends and some of the Cheshire set she knows from Wilmslow. She says the boys wouldn’t enjoy it and that, quite frankly, they’d get in the way.’

‘Charlie, this weekend is your time to have your boys as per your divorce agreement with Wendy.’

‘Yeah, I know that mate, but I’ve got to make a go of things with Natasha. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’

Matt looked up at his old friend. ‘Ever happened to you?’

Charlie blushed. ‘Alright, after Wendy she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me but that’s only for your ears.’

Charlie’s ex-wife Wendy was still one of Matt’s best friends and Matt felt a tremendous sense of loyalty towards her but that wasn’t why he couldn’t stand Natasha, Charlie’s new girlfriend. She was an air hostess who served tea and coffee but she thought she was Cheryl Cole and it was her pretentiousness that Matt couldn’t stand. She was serious when she said she couldn’t possibly fly economy class or on any of the ‘no-frills’ airlines because they were full of what she called ‘poor people.’ It had to be at least Club class or nothing. She lived in what she called a ‘cottage’ in Wilmslow that was really a very nice looking two-up, two-down terraced house. She’d finally cooked all her chips with Matt when she referred to her parents as ‘Mummy and Daddy.’ He absolutely detested that in a grown woman and it really beat him why Charlie was so attracted to someone who was so obvious a fraud.

‘You know the boys love their Uncle Matt.’

‘Oh please, don’t try that one on me.’

‘Well do you have plans for Saturday?’

‘No, but … ‘

‘…well then. You’re so good with them. You’re better with them than I am.’

‘Well that’s not difficult is it because they see more of me than they do of you.’

‘Ouch. I suppose I deserved that one.’

‘You can’t keep doing this to me, Charlie.’

Charlie winked at his best mate. ‘You’ll get your reward in Heaven.’

‘I’ve told you before, Charlie, just like I’ve told my mother too, I don’t want pie in the sky when I die I want meat on my plate while I wait.’

‘And how is your mother?’

‘She’s fine,’ said Matt, ‘getting onto me every five minutes about not going to Mass but apart from that, she’s the adorable nag she’s always been.’

‘You exaggerate.’

‘Yeah, I know.’

‘So you’ll have the boys for me on Saturday?’

‘You knew the answer to that before you asked me.’

‘Good man!’

‘But I want you to collect them by seven on Saturday evening,’ Matt warned, ‘I want to go out on Saturday night.’

‘I’ll do my best.’

‘Charlie!’

‘Well I can’t promise, mate.’ said Charlie, his face full of appeasing gestures, ‘It depends on how long this lunch thing goes on for and on what Natasha has got planned afterwards.’

Matt closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘I don’t believe this.’

‘Come on, mate, it’s what goes on between men and women.’

‘Oh and I suppose I wouldn’t know anything about that’

‘I didn’t mean that, Matt.’

‘No, I know you didn’t.’ said Matt, ‘Alright, bring their pyjamas and overnight kit. I’ll think of what to do with them between now and then. You just have yourself a good time.’

‘She has silk sheets on her bed. I mean, how horny is that? She gets them cheap when she goes on trips to India.’

‘Yes, and some ten-year old kid has probably gone blind stitching them in some sweat shop factory where he gets beaten if he doesn’t work hard enough. Think about that lover boy the next time you’re trying to avoid sleeping on the damp patch.’

‘We don’t do damp patches,’ Charlie sneered, ‘she gets up and changes the sheets after we’ve … you know.’

‘Oh I’ve heard it all now. What happened to spontaneous passion?’

‘Oh there’s plenty of that,’ said Charlie, ‘it’s just that it has to be cleaned up afterwards or else she can’t sleep. Absolutely nothing is out of place in her house. She’s the Queen of the tidy girls.’

‘Is she still calling you Charles when everybody else, including your own parents, call you Charlie?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘I rest my case.’

‘She’s very pretty.’

‘That’s only skin deep.’

‘She’s great in the sack.’

‘Well that’ll only last until you’re married.’

‘Yeah,’ said Charlie, nodding his head, ‘Good point.’

‘Anyway, you’ve got patients waiting and so have I.’

‘The pub after surgery?’

‘Where’s the lady Natasha?’

Charlie smiled. ‘On her way to Chicago.’

‘ Then I’ll be there,’ said Matt, ‘and I do believe it’s your round.’

*

Joe Alexander got out of bed and put his boxer shorts back on. He was still hard from sex and had to negotiate his cock back under cover. Then he put his jeans back on and zipped them up carefully before pulling his light blue cotton t-shirt back over his head. He picked up Carol’s watch from the bedside table and handed it to her as she came in from the bathroom.