Fear of the Fathers (34 page)

“Well it had to happen sometime,” said Oggi. “You've been getting lucky for too long mate. The king is dead – long live the king.”

Stratton moved his knight forward, in a seemingly innocuous threat to one of Oggi's rooks. But as Oggi looked closer, a horrible realization dawned on him, and he suddenly saw the inevitability of the play. “You sneaky fucking cunt!” he roared. “I can't believe you've just done that!”

“What?” said Stratton innocently.

“You know what,” said a red-faced Oggi. Then he held up his hands. “Oh, fuck it! I'll just have to get you next time.” He toppled his king in resignation and muttered, “I knew it was a trap.”

“Another game?” asked Stratton.

“Not yet,” said Oggi. “I need something to eat. Shall we go into the service station and grab some breakfast?”

“If you like. We could get it from room service though.”

“I know, but I want to get out.”

“As long as you're sure you won't be recognized.”

Oggi got up and looked in the mirror. His hair and beard were gone, and his leathers had been replaced with casual wear. He felt like an advert for a Buddhist
Top Man
. There was, however, no resemblance to his previous incarnation as head of the Peckham ‘chapter', and he was certain that even his own mother wouldn't recognize him. “I think I'll be okay,” he said. “Unless someone's hanging around with a DNA kit, or dusting for prints.”

Stratton slipped on a pair of trainers and they made a move. They were halfway across the car park when he grabbed his stomach in pain. He stumbled and held on to Oggi's shoulder for support.

“What's wrong mate?” asked Oggi.

“It's nothing,” said Stratton. “Just a twinge. I'll be alright.”

Oggi eyed his friend suspiciously.

The first thing Oggi noticed when he entered the service station was an incredible, almost unbearable heat. It was like opening the door of an oven. He stepped back and gasped.

“A bit hot is it?” said Stratton.

“Yeah, what's up with that? Is the central heating on the blink or something”

“No. Well, I don't think so anyway. You haven't been around people for a while have you?”

“No,” said Oggi. “I haven't. But what's that got to do with it?”

“You're feeling their energy,” said Stratton. “You've been given an extremely powerful attunement. You're particularly sensitive to people's energy fields now, and when you're in a crowd the sensation will be slightly overwhelming.”

“So, what do I do? Shall we go back to the hotel?”

“No, you'll be alright,” Stratton assured him. “Once you've been in there for a few minutes and your body acclimatizes it'll die down. It's just the initial shock that gets you. It's my fault really, I should have warned you.”

Oggi braced himself and re-entered the building. Now that he knew what to expect the blast of heat wasn't half so bad. By the time they had been in the restaurant queue for a few minutes his feelings had reduced to a manageable level.

They paid for their breakfasts and sat down in the corner, away from the windows and prying eyes. Oggi had a oversized plateful of grease, but Stratton was content with a couple of slices of bacon and a hash brown.

“What's wrong with you?” said Oggi. “You'd usually eat more than me. Is it something to do with that ‘twinge' you had?”

Stratton ignored him and munched on a piece of bacon.

“Come on mate, you can tell me. What's up?”

“I don't know,” said Stratton. “I just feel a bit odd, that's all. I'll be alright, I'm sure.”

Oggi got stuck into his food, happy to be back in civilization, if only for a while. His exile on the moors had given him a renewed appreciation of the simpler things in life. Just sitting in a roadside café amongst living, breathing people was a real treat. His eyes moistened slightly at the thought of leaving it all behind.

Stratton picked up on his friend's sadness. “It's hard to let go, isn't it?” he said.

“Of what?” said Oggi.

“Of what we're accustomed to.”

Oggi smiled in acknowledgement. “I guess it is. I've always fancied getting away from this place and going to live abroad. But now that it comes down to it, I'm not so sure I want to go. I complain about this country like everybody else: the weather; the government; public transport etc., but there's something about it and the people that live here that's inherently beautiful. I'm not sure if I could handle permanent sunshine and no worries.”

“I'm sure you'll give it a go,” laughed Stratton. “But I know what you mean. There's beauty in everything if you look hard enough, even tragedy and death. You're eyes are beginning to adjust to the light.”

“What?” Oggi grunted, between mouthfuls.

“You've stepped out of the cave and you're beginning to see the world as it really is. You're awakening from your slumber.”

“Oh yeah, the cave,” said Oggi. “Plato's cave.”

Stratton took a few small mouthfuls of food and looked around the restaurant. “Can you see that?” he said, pointing to a young girl eating with her parents next to the window.

“Can I see what?” asked Oggi.

“That girl in the pink dress, she's got so much energy flowing through her. There's a haze around her that's thick with it.”

Oggi glanced over and shrugged. “If you say so.”

“Look a bit harder. Don't focus on the girl, focus on the air around her.”

“I don't really want to stare,” said Oggi. “People might think I'm a paedo.”

“Oh for fuck's sake, nobody's looking, just give it a try.”

Oggi put down his fork and trained his eye on the girl's silhouette. At first he saw nothing except for the window frame behind her. But then, as he concentrated harder, a mist started to form. “Fuck me,” he said. “That's weird. It's almost like a heat haze.”

“Yeah,” said Stratton. “You've got it. Everyone has it. I chose her because it was the biggest and easiest to see. Children are filled with cosmic energy, it's only as we grow older that it fades. The world slowly chips away at it: hate and greed and despair grinding it down until it's all but disappeared. Every malicious act, unkind word or broken heart takes a little bit more from your soul. Reiki helps build it back up.”

“But surely it doesn't fade in everyone,” said Oggi.

“No, of course not. Some people retain most of it throughout their life. They tend to be people who maintain a child's outlook, always wide-eyed and hopeful, letting misfortune and oppression wash over them like the phantoms they are. As Buddha says ‘no enemy can harm you as much as your own thoughts'.”

“Yeah. Wise old goat that Buddha,” said Oggi. He took a hearty gulp of tea then added, “Have you always been childish then?”

“Unfortunately not,” said Stratton. “I succumbed to the false gravity of life like everybody else. I had to rebuild myself from scratch. When Stella left me…Well, let's just say I was the spiritual equivalent of a void. But then again, I've told you that before.”

“I know,” said Oggi. “It's just difficult for me to equate you with that sort of unhappiness any more.”

“The pain's been washed away…Well, maybe washed away isn't the right term. It's been sublimated into something divine. Anger, frustration and pain are only energy, just like love and happiness. The secret is to see them for what they are, embrace them, and turn them into light. Everyone can do it, it just takes time and practice and will.”

Oggi finished his last mouthful of sausage, washing it down with the remains of the tea, and lay down his knife and fork neatly on the plate. “Right then,” he said. “I suppose we'd better get back to the safety of the hotel room. I don't think anybody will clock me, but it won't do to tempt fate.”

“No, of course not,” said Stratton, getting out of his chair. “I'll just go and get a paper.” Once again he grabbed his stomach, and winced.

Oggi stood up and put his hand on Stratton's shoulder. “Are you sure there's nothing wrong?” he said. “Nothing you want to tell me about?”

Stratton shook his head. “No mate, if I knew I'd tell you. I don't know what's going on. It's only a little twinge anyway. Come on, let's get going.”

Alonso sat awkwardly on the sofa, arms and legs tied and mouth gagged. Cronin stood over him sipping coffee. Stella sat in her chair smoking a B&H.

“What are we going to do with him?” she asked.

“I don't know,” said Cronin. “I could always kill him.”

“Probably not the best idea,” she said. “Anyway, haven't you taken holy orders or something.”

“I have, but not willingly. I haven't got the heart for mindless killing any more though. I suspect we're just going to have to keep him here until it's safe to let him go – which could be a long time. We'll have to feed and water him though.”

Stella cooked some breakfast and Alonso was allowed the use of his arms and mouth to eat. Cronin sat opposite him throughout with a gun at his chest.

“You are making a big mistake, Ms Jones,” Alonso said as he ate. “This man is an enemy of all that is good in the world. He wants the peoples of the world to continue warring and fighting, and never come to the kingdom of God. All that we want is to bring harmony and peace to this troubled planet.”

Cronin rolled his eyes. “Put a sock in it weasel boy,” he said. “We know exactly what you and your cohorts want, and that's power. You won't be happy until the whole world has turned its allegiance to the Vatican.”

“This is not true,” countered Alonso. “We want peace and unity.”

“Of course you do – as long as it's on your terms…Anyway just hurry up and finish your food, my arm's starting to hurt.”

Once Alonso had finished Cronin took him to the bathroom and bound him tightly to the radiator.

“He should be alright in there until we get back,” he said. “Are you sure you're comfortable doing this?”

“Yes,” said Stella. “Well, not entirely, but I've got no choice. He needs help getting out of the country, and I've got to take a chance. You're the only option I've got. You can help him can't you?”

“Yes, of course I can. I can have him out in a couple of days if he wants. But I can't make any plans until I've spoken to him myself.”

Before setting off Stella went to her bedroom to check her voicemail. There was nothing more from Jennings. Her face fell. Had he received her text? More than likely he had, so why hadn't he got back to her? Surely, even with his busy schedule, he could have found time to at least acknowledge her? It was most unlike him to be lax with his communications. She sat on the edge of the bed and gave her phone a mournful gaze. Then, with a sigh, she shrugged and went to join Cronin.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” said Stella unconvincingly. “Shall we make a move?”

They made their way out of the city in relative silence, Stella chain smoking at the wheel of her MR2, and Cronin lost in passing thought. It wasn't until they hit the M4 that the quiet was broken.

“You seem stressed,” said Cronin.

“What do you expect?” she replied between drags. “I'm betraying Stratton's trust.”

“I'm sure he'll understand. You're doing the best thing you can. Anyway, is it really just that? Or is there something else?”

“I'm just a bit worried about one of my friends, that's all. I sent him a message and he hasn't got back to me.”

“When did you send it?”

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“Not everybody answers their messages straight away you know,” said Cronin. “You might want to give him a while longer, before you start panicking.”

“Maybe,” said Stella. “But I sent him a message asking for his help. He's not the sort of person who would ignore it. I'm pretty sure he should have contacted me by now.”

“The text may have got lost in the ether. There's sometimes a time delay. I've received messages two days after they've been sent.”

“Whatever,” she said tetchily. “It doesn't matter anyway. It's not that important any more.”

Cronin let the subject lie, sensing that there was more to it than just friendly concern. There was a slow fuse burning and he had no desire to assist the flame. “Do you fancy putting the stereo on?” he asked, to change the tenor of the conversation.

Stella obliged him and the sound of guitars and wailing filled the car.

“Guns n' Roses,” said Cronin. “This takes me back a bit. Were you a big fan?”

“I guess so,” she said. “It fitted in with the way I was at the time. I suppose it was more what it symbolized than anything else. My parents hated it for a start, and that had to be good.”