The Face Page 15

  “No, we teach our congregations to turn the other cheek, like to give it a try?”

  John focussed a pair of fearful eyes on Brian, rubbed the side of his face and wordlessly walked back to his car. Bau dragged Brian back inside. “Whatever did he say,” she asked as she sat him down in the kitchen, now all of a tremble. Had he actually punched a man?

  “He was rude about you and Amy.”

  “And that warranted fisticuffs in the street did it?”

  “Frankly yes.”

  Amy picked up one of his hands and cooed, “Big hands, nice safe big hands.”

  “Don’t encourage him Amy,” she snapped.

  Amy just smiled, “For years I’ve dreamt of someone standing up to John, it was wonderful.”

  Brian put his head in his hands, “I don’t know what came over me. He was rude about Amy and I just saw red.”

  Bau patted him on the shoulder; “Heap big man defends slur on little cave woman. It’s a primaeval instinct”

  Brian just groaned.

  Bau stood at the window looking out while Amy slipped her red slacks back on. “What’s he doing?”

  “Cutting the hedge with a pair of shears like he wanted to chop John into little pieces.”

  “Is he angry do you think?”

  Bau sighed, “Angry with himself more than anything else. Angry that he let John goad him and angry that he hit him I guess.”

  Amy came and stood next to her, “I’ve never had anyone before who stood up to John like that, especially over me.”

  Bau put an arm around her waist, “Then he must like you rather a lot.”

  They watched him clipping away at the end of the front garden. “He seems to accept that you and I are more than just friends,” Amy mused.

  “So far Amy, but no further. I think he can cope with us each individually and when it’s just you and I together. I don’t think he could cope with the thought of all three of us in bed at the same time.”

  “I should hope not,” said Amy indignantly, “that’s sexual depravation.”

  They looked at each other and laughed.

  Brian stopped clipping and looked at the house. Bau and Amy were standing together at the same window and laughing. He resumed his task, a two-fold task of talking to God and cutting the hedge. “Just what am I up to Lord?” Clip. Clip. “Last week I was perfectly sane.” Clip. Clip. “Now I’ve started hitting people.” Clip. “Sleeping with a woman who is not my wife and,” clip, “who nicely states that she doesn’t want to be my wife but,” clip, “my concubine.” Clip. “And,” clip, “tells me to marry the woman with whom she is obviously having an affair.” Clip, clip, clip, clip, clip. “And do I throw a wobbly?” Clip, clip. “No I don’t.” Clip, clip, clip. “Then there’s this vicar business.” Clip, clip. “I’m just thinking about being vicar here as if there’s nothing wrong!” Clip, clip, clip. “When there’s everything wrong.” Clip, clip, clip, clip.

  “You’ll cut that hedge back to nothing if you keep on like that.”

  Brian swung round at Verity’s voice and looked sheepish. She wagged a finger, “You might well look sheepish Brian, John is going to have the biggest black eye of his life.”

  There was something in her tone that made Brian think she wasn’t too concerned. She glanced at the house, “Actually I popped round to tell you that I’ve called an emergency Church Council meeting for tonight and I’m going to recommend that we accept you as our vicar, we could do a lot worse.”

  She might as well have felled Brian with an axe. “You are?”

  “I am.”

  “But what about John?”

  She grinned, “Probably severed him right, I’ve told him before he provokes people to the limit; do him good.”

  Amazement crossed Brian’s face, “Suppose he goes to the papers?”

  Verity shook her head and grinned. “No way, I warned him that if he did I might drop a hint to the same papers about the wood he uses for his supposed solid mahogany coffins.”

  Brian relaxed, “Well thanks Verity, I can’t say that’s what I expected, but I am pleased.”

  She gave an apprehensive smile, “Can I see Amy?”

  “Of course, this isn’t a prison. She’s indoors.”

  Verity set off up the path and Brian resumed his clipping and prayer. “Why is it Lord?” Clip, clip. “That my personal life is in tatters.” Clip, clip. “While all the ducks seem to be lining up in a row quite nicely for my ministry?” Clip, clip, clip.

  He didn’t get an immediate answer.

  After he’d cleared away the mound of clippings he made his way into the kitchen. To his utter surprise Verity was laying up a table for four with all the airs and graces of someone who was quite at home. Bau stood behind her and waved her arms in an ‘I don’t know’ fashion and indicated the study. Brian and her drifted into the study and closed the door. Brian whispered, “Is she staying for dinner?”

  “Not only is she staying for dinner she’s being nice to me, it’s quite unnerving.”

  “How’s Amy coping?”

  “You know Amy, a shark could drop through the ceiling and she’d take it as normal.”

  There was a tap at the door and Verity walked in with a knowing smile. “I guess you two are wondering what I am doing here after all the things I’ve said in the past.”

  She flopped into a chair and looked at Bau. “Brian tells me that you helped him find the Dale twins. I got to thinking, just suppose Amy had committed suicide, how would I feel?” She swallowed and sighed at the same time. “I suppose it’s because I miss her around the house.”

  She glanced at Bau, “I’m not going to try and drag her back, so you can stop worrying; I can see that she’s happy here. I just wanted to make sure and make some sort of peace with her. I wouldn’t want to think that she looks on me as some sort of ogre. Whatever I did, right or wrong, I did it because I thought it was best for her.”

  Brian coughed, “Do you see her as an embarrassment?”

  Shock and horror crossed her face. “Of course not. It can sometimes be acutely embarrassing to be with her, but an embarrassment to me, never.”

  “Then tell her that, she worries about it.”

  Verity nodded and some sixth pastoral sense told Brian that Verity hadn’t told the whole story. He said gently, “There’s more to this isn’t there?”

  Verity folded her hands. “I had a bad angina attack yesterday. I’ve had angina for years, but yesterday it was so bad I thought I was having a heart attack. Doctor says my blood pressure is far too high and that otherwise I’m as strong as an ox, but he would say that wouldn’t he? Don’t want to go around frightening old ladies. Having a close view of one’s own mortality somewhat hones the mind. It sorts out the important from the unimportant, and it’s important for Amy and I to be at peace; for her sake and for mine.”

  Brian squatted down beside her, Bau watched. “And how are you now?”

  She gave a feeble grin, “Wobbly and frightened. But don’t you dare say a word to Amy, not yet – I need to know she’s settled before I worry her.”

  She turned to Bau, “I’ve also been thinking about you and Lucy. Amy babbled a lot when she was first in hospital, words used to tumble out in no particular order. Some of what she said frightened me and I pushed it to one side. I don’t expect you to tell me, but it was obvious to me that she thought she was responsible for Lucy’s death, not you.”

  Bau leaned against the edge of the desk. “I was Lucy’s mother and I was responsible for her death, not Amy. When I say that I mean through negligence, not through any deliberate act. Amy loved Lucy and she took her death badly, but I never have and I never will blame Amy for her death.”

  The sound of a saucepan being hit by a wooden spoon drifted down the corridor. Verity looked at Brian as she stood up. “And I’d like you to know Brian that my last will and testament is with Blick’s Solicitors in Bury. When I die Amy will be provided for.”

  She swept out and Bau and Brian
looked at each other, was there a coded message there as well?

  Dinner proved to be baked potatoes with cheese and a mash of suede, carrot and parsnip, however no-one was really concentrating on the food as conversation over the meal moved in fits and starts with painful silences in-between. Eventually, once Amy had cleared her plate, Verity reached over the corner of the table and held her hand. She said lovingly, “I’m glad your happy here Amy, I just wanted to make sure as your important to me.”

  Amy gazed at her in bewilderment; Verity ploughed on. “I know I probably haven’t shown it much, but I do love you Amy. You’re more of a daughter to me than your mother, who’s too selfish by half. I just wanted you to know that I love and care and if you need anything you’ve only got to ask.”

  Amy gazed at her without saying anything. Verity licked her lips, “And I want you to know that you are not, and have never been, an embarrassment to me. I’m not saying that sometimes you haven’t put me in difficult positions, but not through embarrassment.”

  Amy said weakly, “When I had that incident with the bishop, you said, ‘Amy how could you’ and you were bright red.”

  Verity stroked her hand; “I was surprised, that’s all.”

  Amy suddenly grinned, “Well I’d have been embarrassed if you’d offered the Bishop the chance to see all your wobbly bits!”

  They all laughed and Brian relaxed slightly, perhaps his life wasn’t in so much of a mess as he’d thought. He was, of course, living in a fool’s paradise.

  Chapter 11

  Decisions

  Brian turned over and woke up. This time it wasn’t a smell of a visitor that woke him up, but a call of nature. He slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom without bothering to turn on any lights as there was enough moonlight to see by. Once he had finished urinating he carefully wiped himself and gently lowered the lid on the toilet. By some unsaid consensus no one flushed the toilet at night. He padded towards the bathroom door and nearly fainted as Amy spoke from behind him. “Will you wash my back Brian?” She asked in a matter of fact manner, as if bathing at 3am in the complete dark was quite normal.

  He turned the light on to see her sitting in a bath of bubbles looking quite content and happy. He crossed over to her. “Amy, it’s the dead of night, what are you doing in the bath?”

  “I felt sweaty.” It was both a statement and a reason.

  He hesitated and then knelt down beside the bath and rubbed some of the foam across her back. Unlike Bau her spine was well covered and her back smooth and uninterrupted by protruding bones. “This water is almost cold Amy,” he chided.

  “Didn’t want to waste the bubbles,” she giggled, “these are expensive bubbles.”

  She turned her eyes on him, “Don’t suppose you’d wash my feet too, can’t always seem to reach them properly in the bath.”

  Dutifully he fished out her left foot and rubbed some bubbles into it. “Your toenails need cutting, this one is starting to dig into the toe next door.”

  He fished out her right foot and repeated the process before pulling out the plug. “Come on Amy, let’s dry you down before you get pneumonia,”

  She docilely stood up and he wrapped a giant bath towel over her shoulders before helping her step out of the bath. He gently towelled her down. “Have you got any talcum?”

  “Left it at home.”

  “How about mine?”

  She sniffed it and nodded. He shook some on her and rubbed it in, carefully avoiding her breasts and groin. He then took her back to her bedroom, quietly closed the bedroom door and sat her on the bed. “Have you got a manicure set?”

  She handed him a small metal case that folded out like a sewing basket and contained almost every manicure tool imaginable. She sat on the bed and he sat on the floor cutting her nails and then filing them into a round shape. On a whim he took a bottle of her pink nail polish off her bedside cabinet and started to paint her toenails. She tittered. “Gran says only sluts paint their toenails.”

  “Then your gran is out of touch.”

  Once he’d completed the operation he peered at the knuckle of her left little toe. “You’ve got some hard skin here, want me to rub it off?”

  She nodded and he took the little sandpaper stick and rubbed it down. “How long does this stuff take to dry?”

  “About ten minutes.”

  While they waited her gently massaged her feet, it was both relaxing and slightly erotic. After a suitable while he gingerly checked the last toenail, the cosmetic was quite hard. “Now,” he said tenderly, “time for bed.”

  She lay down and he went to tuck her in. She shuffled over to one side of the bed and gazed at him with her wide hazel eyes, “Do I get a hug?” She forlornly murmured.

  He hesitated for a second; part of his brain screaming that this was not wise while another part screamed at him to carry on. “Just a small one.”

  “With the light out? It hurts my eyes.”

  He crossed the room, turned off the light and stumbled back to the bed to feel his way towards her. He’d fully intended to hug her while sitting on the side of the bed; instead he lay next to her to gently went to put his arm over her. She grabbed his hand in mid-flight and held it to her breast. “I want you to hold me.”

  Brian went to protest and she added, “I’m not frightened of you holding me, you’ve got nice safe big hands.”

  He felt her warm breast and swallowed, “I’m not sure this is wise Amy?”

  “Why not? I like it”

  They lay side by side and Brian could feel his heart pounding. She murmured evocatively, ‘Kiss me Brian, just a little kiss.”

  He wondered about saying ‘no’ and pulling away. If he continued there was only one way this was going to end. “Please kiss me,” she gently whispered. “I want you to kiss me ‘cause I want to kiss you.”

  He let their faces meet and gave her a gentle caress of the lips. She responded with an emotionally charge smooch of the lips. Rather hoarsely, he whispered, “We’d better stop Amy, if we don’t stop now we might not be able to stop.”

  She cooed passionately, “I don’t want you to stop, I want us to make love.”

  A man with a stronger will might well have pulled away, but Brian was sucked in to her need of him and her warm smooth engulfing body. He started to stimulate her to find her already considerably aroused, as was he. It wasn’t the most brilliant act of lovemaking on the planet, but it was hugely satisfying for both of them as they expressed their inner emotions in the culminating act of love.

  Bau sat on the floor outside of the door and listened and cried. Cried not out of distress, but out of relief. She knew that Brian could have been her true husband, her faithful husband. Concern for Amy had led her to a different path, that of giving him up to her. She wiped the tears and wondered why she was crying. Amy would be happy with Brian and he would be happy with Amy while she was content to be faithful to them both and married to neither. In her heart she knew that she was not destined to be a wife, especially the type of wife Brian needed. On the other hand she needed the reassurance of being loved and accepted; perhaps now she had the best of both worlds. In any case if she did go back to prison for a long time she now knew that Amy would be settled, that in itself was some comfort. She listened to the sound of silence from Amy’s bedroom and went back to bed, content.

  For the second time in two days Brian opened his eyes to the sight of a woman’s back, in this case Amy’s super-smooth back. He judged it as still being fairly early in the morning as the birds were still singing their little hearts out. Amy moved in her sleep and left him precariously on the edge of the bed. He knew when to withdraw from a territorial battle and he eased himself off of the bed and went back to his own bedroom. He flopped into the camp-bed, sighed and closed his eyes. Sleep came easily.

  Seven o’clock saw him padding downstairs past Bau’s open door, lying in the bed, arms entwined, were Bau and Amy. Brian made himself a cup of tea and sat at the table highly perturbed.
What was happening to him? Had all morality somehow left him? What next, would he start mugging old ladies? As his mind wandered he inevitably compared making love to Bau with making love to Amy. One was full of suppressed passion and sexual desire; the other made up of emotional ardour and ardent rapture. It was like trying to compare bananas with beer. He pulled his mind back to the problem on hand. One man, two women and sexual intercourse with both. How could this possibly be right? How could he be so weak? He finished his tea and went to the top floor for a shower. Once again, a few minutes into the shower, Bau entered the cubicle condom in hand. As their bodies merged with pleasure Brian reflected that if this continued he’d be exhausted within the week.

  Breakfast was once again all smiles with Brian feeling more than a trifle embarrassed. Amy, fully clothed in a sort of dull pink denim skirt and off-cream blouse, eventually sat down at the breakfast table. “We’re running out of food,” she announced.

  “But I bought enough for a couple of weeks,” Brian proclaimed somewhat surprised.

  Bau grinned, “If it takes one man three weeks to eat a load of shopping, it takes three people how many weeks to gobble up the same load and Amy is not exactly ungenerous with her helpings.”

  Brian did not fancy a supermarket on a Saturday morning, besides he had other plans. “Do you drive?” He asked Bau.

  She nodded as she started to nibble at her second half-slice of toast. “But I’m a bit out of practice and to be honest I’d rather not drive at the moment. Be stupid to commit some minor traffic infringement and end up back in clink.”

  He could see her point of view. Amy fished a small spiral bound notebook out of her large cheap plastic pink handbag. “It’s all right Brian, we’ll make you a list.”

  “Why don’t you just come?”

  She looked at Bau; “We have other plans.”

  He inwardly groaned, shopping for three on a Saturday by himself. Bau patted the back of his hand and softly whispered, “Normally one of us will come with you, or both, but today we want to do something different.” She grinned, “A little surprise just for you.”