The Father's House (13 page)

Sarah scooped blue rat poison into one end of a bit of plastic piping. She squeezed her large hips into the gap between the garage and the garden wall, and carefully put the piping down on the ground. This was the fourth time she had done so since Lucy told her about the rat, and she hoped it would be the last. The poison had disappeared from the first dose, and a few days later she had found a dead rat near the bin. Last time only half the dose had gone so it looked as though there might be no more rats. If none went this time she would know that they were all dead and she could relax.

She straightened herself up, looked upwards and wondered briefly why there was a wooden cover over part of the gap above her head, and then backed out. It was hard to turn round in the narrow space. She jammed a piece of hardboard across the entrance and then secured a piece of wire fencing over it, to keep Paul out. She dragged one of the bins up against it just for good measure.

Back in the kitchen she washed her hands thoroughly and started to prepare Lucy's tea. Paul would wake up soon and there wouldn't be much peace for quite a while. Acting on an uncharacteristic impulse, she cut two small slices from the father's favourite coffee and walnut cake and laid them on the children's plates. He would never know, and she hoped the Magnifico had too many serious matters on his mind to bother about it.

Lucy noticed the cake as soon as she came in. The anxious look in her eyes vanished briefly and she smiled. Sarah was glad. She longed to ask Lucy what was troubling her but knew she could not. The Magnifico had decreed that children must receive no comfort from those about them. They had to find the strength within themselves to deal with their own difficulties.

After finishing her homework Lucy sat at the table with Paul and admired his drawings. They were much too good for a little boy of three. “You'll be a great artist one day,” she said, and he was pleased. Sarah was wringing out washing at the sink. She put it into a plastic tub and took it to the back door.

“Watch him while I hang this out.”

“Yes, Aunt Sarah,” replied Lucy.

Paul knelt on his chair with both elbows on the table, intently focusing on his artistic efforts. He wrote PAUL and drew a picture. “Look. It's me. Fluffy hair.”

Lucy smiled. Her mind was far away. How would Dorothy manage in the outside world when she'd only ever lived in a commune?

Aunt Sarah returned with the empty washing basket. She was in a good mood tonight. Lucy risked asking some questions.

“What's a sect, Aunt Sarah?”

“It's a sort of religion,” said Sarah. “You do ask strange questions.”

“Do we have a sect?”

“No. We have a religion, the only true religion, the Holy Cause. We are the elite.”

“Why have we been chosen to be the elite?”

“So we can be saved when all non-followers perish. Now get along with you. You've got school tomorrow.”

Lucy lay tense in her bed. Wouldn't Dorothy perish in the outside world? She would surely be safer back in the commune. Wasn't Lucy safer too, in the father's house? What else had she ever known? There was a distant memory, perhaps only a dream. She was high up in the doorway that led from the lobby to the kitchen, held in the arms of a giant, and looking down at a fat woman who stood by the window. Then she was on a lap and could feel a gentle face nuzzling down into her hair, and a loving voice was saying, “It's going to be alright. Just be a good girl and everything will be alright.”

She had been a good girl, but nothing felt all right. It felt all wrong.

In the second-floor flat Maria was listening to the Holy Leaders. They sat in the armchairs like three crows, spilling out the familiar mantra as they stroked their beards and twisted their side curls round their fingers. Claudia lay on the couch, too listless to care what they said. If they wanted her to believe them she would. It didn't matter to her one way or the other. All she wanted was to get out of here. Maria moved quietly around the room pretending to dust, tidying books, stacking magazines, no longer a target of the conversion techniques. The oily voices painting their pretty picture of Paradise would have made her laugh out loud years ago when she was young and free. Now they sickened her.

“The Magnifico has a special place in Paradise for the mothers of his children,” one Holy Leader was saying.

Maria thought of the pinched little face and the huge eyes that had stared at her out of the unfurled leaves of the lime tree. Every day, many times a day, she looked out of the window to see if it came again, but it never did.

“The warmth of his eternal love will wrap itself around their souls and bring them comfort.” The voice droned on and on.

“Their sacrifices in this world will be rewarded in the next. They will dwell in palaces, and feed on delicious foods. They will wear beautiful clothes and precious jewels, and bathe in crystal pools.”

Claudia suddenly sat up.

“Oh, for God's sake just bloody well shut up!” she screamed. “You're making me sick. What do I want with jewels? And I hate swimming, in crystal pools or anywhere else.” She swung herself off the sofa and stood up.

The Holy Leaders were stunned into silence. Maria put her hand over her mouth and rushed into the bedroom slamming the door behind her. Throwing herself on the bed she tried to smother her splutters in the pillow, but gave up and rolled onto her side clutching her stomach. She gasped and wailed and laughed out loud till her sides ached.

A few minutes later Claudia came into the room, tall, slender, straight, and electric with energy.

“They've gone. What a bunch of revolting old windbags!” she said, dropping down on the bed beside Maria and joining in her laughter.

Eventually Maria sat up, tears streaming down her face. With ever diminishing gasps she fished under her pillow for a handkerchief.

“How do we get out of here?” said Claudia.

Maria wiped her face and blew her nose. She put her finger to her lips.

“Shush.” She pointed at the ceiling, the walls and the floor.

“We don't even try,” she said loudly. She stood up and beckoned. Claudia followed her to the sitting room.

“Music!” announced Maria cheerfully. “That's what we need. It'll help you think about what the Holy Leaders have told you. You may see things differently when you've had time to absorb it all.”

She chose some Wagner from her collection and slipped it into the player.

“Just lie down and rest,” she called loudly over the music. “Just relax and this'll help empty your mind of all your troubles.” Then she added, “I'm just going to have a shower.”

She beckoned Claudia into the shower room that led off the hall, shut the door loudly, and turned on the tap.

“I've been trying to tell you, but you didn't seem to hear me,” she whispered, against the sound of the spraying water.

“Tell me what?”

“You've got to pretend to believe them and you've got to be convincing, or you'll end up like me and never get out. Don't make the mistake I made by refusing to be converted. I'm here forever until that horrible Father Copse gets sick of me and has me disposed of.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you can convince them that you're happy to give up the comforts of this world in return for the future delights of Paradise, and that you're a sincere convert to the Holy Cause, you've got a good chance of being sent to live in the commune to be a mother or an aunt to Copse's children. If you can be an aunt you may get an opportunity to escape. It's more difficult if you're a mother because they keep the ones they're unsure of locked up on the upper floors.”

“What happens if I don't convert?”

“You'll be disposed of. By lethal injection.”

Claudia looked at her in horror.

“How come you're still here?”

“He's besotted with me. I don't know why. I'm never nice to him. I've had children by him, but all he does these days is stroke my hair, and I grit my teeth. He says it's like his mother's hair and he calls me by her name – Belinda. The rest of the time he just calls me ‘woman'.”

Claudia gasped. “He's crazy!”

“Whatever you do, pretend to try and please him.” Maria turned the shower off, then quickly turned it on again.

“The whole place is bugged, but I've never been able to find out where. Those idiot priests are probably in the flat below listening out for us at this very moment. He's at work all day, but he'll listen in the evening because you're new, so be careful what you say. Always put the music on, or the shower, or rustle a tissue near your mouth if you want to say anything that you don't want him to hear.”

She switched off the shower again, waited a moment and then opened the door.

“That was a lovely shower, I feel so much better now,” she said loudly, turning down the music.

“Good,” said Claudia equally loudly. “That music has done wonders for me too. Inspiring! I'm so glad I've had time to think. I'll have to ask the Holy Leaders to come and explain it all to me again. Perhaps they'll forgive me for my rudeness.”

Downstairs the Holy Leaders listened with interest.

“It's all a sham,” said one of them.

“Perhaps so,” said the other, “but it's our holy duty to keep trying.”

Later that evening the father changed out of his formal work suit and slipped into loose velvet trousers and an embroidered jacket. Crossing over to the sideboard he took his tray out of the dumb waiter then pressed the button to send it back to the kitchen. He settled himself down at the dining table and opened his napkin. He poured his wine and lifted the covers from the plates, taking pleasure in the sight and smell of a beautifully prepared meal.

A few minutes later the whirring noise of the dumb waiter on its way up to the second floor reminded him to turn on the sound from upstairs. He had lost the habit of listening while the woman had been on her own, but now there were two of them up there it might be wise to hear what they had to say. Reaching over to the wall near the door, he pressed a switch and then took up his knife and fork. Music floated gently down and he could hear the soft murmur of women's voices chatting about the colour of Claudia's hair.

So Claudia had recovered from her state of decline. Now he would get to know her. The Holy Leaders would no doubt report on today's visit. If they were beginning to persuade her to the Holy Cause, his own striking good looks and charming manner should speed up the process. Maybe he could even make Belinda jealous by showering a younger woman with his attentions. Reaching out to the little side table, he pulled a hand mirror out of the drawer and practised his smile. It was still there, but it took more of an effort these days. He tried to crinkle his eyes a little more, but wasn't really satisfied. Never mind. The pain in his head would pass off when he'd had something to eat.

Upstairs Maria carried the tray over from the dumb waiter and set it down on the table. She winked at Claudia.

“Sarah is a wonderful cook,” she said. “You'll enjoy the food while you're here.”

“I'm so glad you persuaded me to think over what the priests said.” Claudia spoke clearly, but stopped for a moment to stifle a little laugh. “I was so unreceptive at first, but I think it was because I was still in shock from finding myself here. Now that my mind has cleared, I can see the logic of what they say. We really do need a new order to this world. All the corruption that goes on is quite shocking.”

Maria smiled, and nodded her head. Down below the father thought Aha! So the Holy Leaders had trouble with this girl, but now all was well. She was beginning to see the light, thanks to Belinda. What an amazing lady! Too honourable to pretend to believe when she could not, yet she was prepared to support others who might be able to do so. If only she herself could be persuaded. She would be a prized convert after so many years of doubting, and would ensure him a position at the Holy Envoy's right hand.

The voices floated back and forth. “Father Copse is very kind to me,” Belinda was saying. “So generous.”

Claudia's response was clear. “He's certainly very handsome. I'm looking forward to getting to know him better.” The music became louder and smothered the splutter of laughter.

Putting aside his financial problems and his promotion aspirations for a while, the father felt satisfied with his lot, and with himself. He switched off the sound. There was nothing there to disturb him, though it might be wise to remove their music player just in case it drowned anything he needed to hear. If all went well Claudia might produce a child fairly quickly and then she could be passed on to the commune as a convert. The Holy Envoy might even increase his expenses.