Chapter 16:a

In which the party begins

Addison imagines that a party is the last thing he needs – until he has been in the grandly called Function Room at Holy Wind for an hour, at which time the celebrations are due to start and people start arriving armed with all kinds of offerings, mostly presents for Carla and also their contribution to the food.

As if on cue, the variety of aromas that Great Aunt Rebecca had been organising yesterday come to life for the first time in Addison’s sensory perception. He turns to gaze at the multiplicity of dishes on the far trestles and wonders how he can have missed the smell of it being prepared. He shrugs and runs his hand over his forehead in resignation. The bother in his head will lift. A few more jolts like the sight and smell of this food and he will be as near to normal as he can manage at present.

He goes through to the small room off, and speaks to the five lads, barely out of school, who have volunteered to provide music for the barn dancing later and are unpacking equipment. Talie’s black-haired problem-child is helping, after a fashion. Addison grins involuntarily. The older lads put up with him well but what he really needs is some special schooling and perhaps later an apprenticeship – though it is difficult to imagine who would take him seriously with that shaved channel marked down his scalp. He’s been worse since his father walked out; more morose, less than polite. Addison sighs. He will try to keep an eye on the boy; on all of them in fact, guiding them into God’s paths.

He exchanges a few quips with them to show they’re appreciated. His job is to encourage, and leaders lead, come what may. Even that superhero Moses had two men to hold his hands up in prayer until the battle was won; Addison is not about to pull out.

An insidious voice in his head denies his ability to dance in his present depressed state. But he immediately silences it, knowing that he must behave as though he’s feeling bouncy and outgoing. A bit of effort assisted by a helping of grace is what he needs tonight, and he offers a brief arrow prayer to the sky.

Stripping off his waistcoat and slinging it by one hooked finger across his opposite shoulder, he deliberately saunters over to Carla who is welcoming her visitors and chatting animatedly about the presents she is holding. The bright cheerfulness of it all both helps and hinders him.

‘Addison, look at these lovely earrings!’ Her face is alight with excitement. Two tiny silver fish, marked with fins and scales lie shining in the palm of her hand.

‘Icthus,’ he murmurs. ‘The fish marked the walls of the catacombs, you know, when the Christians met in secret.’

A few nod their heads. He is called upon to admire a candle set in an intricately fretworked holder; a runner woven in traditional Inca design; a couple of paperbacks and several packs of toiletries. Not much of it holds any interest for him except in as far as Carla’s increasing happiness lessens the guilt he feels at his own lack of contribution to her wellbeing.

He should have stayed in town yesterday morning to buy her something special. But he couldn’t make up his mind in time. And by late afternoon today there didn’t seem much point in going back; if he’s missed doing it in time for first thing on her birthday morning he may as well make the trip with her one day in the coming week when she can choose something herself. Nonetheless, regret mingles with this reasoning in the face of Carla’s animation.

He watches as she slips the earrings into the holes vacated by the studs and stands in front of him for inspection.

Suddenly a wave of intense emotion surges inside him and he crushes her to him, totally disregarding the group around them.

‘Happy birthday, angel.’ The lump in his throat reduces the words to a whisper.

‘Better?’ The question is likewise private.

‘Better,’ he lies and pushes her gently back into the circle.

May God look at the intent of his heart. This is her party, her special day, and he will do his best.

The guests are much the people he has expected she would invite. (Probably he was in the room when she did it but he is aware of noticing for the first time who is here.)

He registers Talie, Pete and Sheila, Rob, three others who drop in often to see Carla, and, slightly detached from the crowd, Maura and Mandy with their husbands. He hadn’t realised she was fond of them: maybe she just wanted them to feel included. That would be typically her contribution. Not spiritual, just kind and thoughtful.

On impulse, he goes out, fetches Great Aunt Rebecca and little Dinah from the porch where they have been sitting in the early evening sun after the walk from home, and introduces them to Maura and Mandy.

‘Three of a kind, I think,’ he says to them. ‘Four probably, if Dinah turns out anything like other women.’

And he returns to the group round Carla, feeling his spirits rise; he’s given the meddlesome women’s lib pair something that might occupy them for a while, and he has, in the process, vented something that was building up inside him. He knows he will have to answer to the Lord for it later: vengeance is mine, says the Lord. That’s unequivocal. But an interim prod has been … well, satisfying.

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Chapter 15:d

In which Carla changes her mind

She is enjoying a refreshing bath when the thought comes to her that she has sort of implied she would do anything, and that might have to include the one thing she doesn’t really want to do.

Questions crowd in, demanding attention, as she soaps herself.

What if her refusal to get baptised is part of Addison’s depression? He believed it to be the way forward, which she rejected roundly, and then he witnessed her breakdown the other night. He may foresee it as a regular occurrence. (She hasn’t told him about Steve’s reappearance, so it can’t be that.) The refusal was insignificant to her, though it stemmed from her principles, but then it’s always trivia that bother people. Is it worth contributing to Addison’s problems just to have her own way?

He’s been looking to her for support ever since they met. She knows that. But she’s never been weak or compromised for the sake of it, except when she was living with Steve, and that was a life or death matter with a dangerous man. Addison is kind and loving. Perhaps it’s different to compromise with a man like that.

But will she be able to go through with a ritual that has no meaning for her? Confirmation as a child in the Catholic church did nothing for her. And anyway, is choosing to help allay someone’s suffering a way of making good that is more deceitful than honest?

She sits awhile in the warm water after rinsing the soap off. The scum begins to settle round her and she stirs it away distastefully. Oh for a shower. Briefly she pictures the nice house they had before her parents rehoused to the council estate. Well, she made her bed – or her father forced her bed on her – and she will have to lie on it. And Addison is so sweet, and has been so generous with her. If only he would make love to her…

Then she stands naked on the bath mat and contemplates that latest thought. How did it pop into her head? She vowed never to actively want sex again after the trauma of escaping Steve. Is it libido or pride talking? She stretches up on tip toe trying to see her body in the mirror, but it is slightly high for her, set for Addison. After a moment spent uselessly jigging up and down, she gives up. Of course she’s slim and attractive. That’s why Steve first noticed her.

She reaches for the towel and tries to quell the feeling of shame that comes flooding through her. It was precisely her looks he’d coveted, and not for himself.

Well, it’s water down the drain, she tells herself ruthlessly. Steve wants Dinah, not sex. And Addison is obviously reticent for some other reason. So she will woo him purely and simply out of gratitude, and if baptism is a down payment towards that, then she may have to pay it. She’s much better off here than in the refuge. And it represents her only hope for safety right now. Unless the father is expected to adopt the kid… She pushes that thought deeper into the field and brings baptism back to the focal point.

‘And I did say unless I choose,’ she whispers to herself. ‘And I do choose. I’ll do it for Addison and see if it alters things between us.’

She quickly rubs herself dry and throws on a lightweight nightgown, savouring the mouthwatering aromas rising from below. She runs downstairs and kisses Great Aunt Rebecca on the cheek. ‘You can come again,’ she says.

The wizzened eyebrows rise. ‘You’ve benefitted from some time with Addison, I see.’

Carla merely grins, repeats her thanks verbally and runs upstairs to bed. She snuggles up to Addison who is fast asleep and allows her thoughts to roam among the smells and sounds of a feast being prepared.

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Chapter 15:c

In which Carla tries to rally Addison

When Addison finally starts to speak, it is in a low monotone that seems to Carla a grotesque parody of the higher monotone that slips out when he is excitedly quoting something at her. She tries to concentrate on what he is saying, knowing that she must also hear the unspoken if she’s to get at the whole truth.

‘Just pressure and despair building up in here,’ he says, tapping his head with one crooked finger. ‘Nothing that can’t be sorted out when I have the energy to bother.’

‘Tell me,’ Carla prompts gently. ‘It’s not like you to keep secrets from me.’

Addison stretches out on the bed and clasps his hands behind his head so that it is cushioned in a higher position, from where he gives Carla a sombre stare before replying.

‘All little things,’ he says.

But which have mounted up, interprets Carla silently. She waits for more.

‘People are busy at the moment,’ he says, obliquely. After a pause he adds: ‘Like Rob couldn’t turn up on Thursday – though I managed alone.’

‘Is everything else covered?’ Carla asks.

‘Yeah, yeah. Unless something happens.’ He sighs.

Carla tries to determine what ‘something’ might mean, but decides quickly that he means just that: illness, another pressing engagement, a change of plans.

‘And I’ve got to oversee the work on the house now. Set up a system or something.’

‘Can’t Pete do that?’

‘He will, but it’s my job to start the ball rolling. As sort of landlord, you know. Anyway, it’s me that’s been seeing these young men so I’d better be the link with Pete until it’s off the ground. He’ll be at work during the day.’

‘Okay,’ Carla says slowly. ‘That will sort itself out. Don’t think too far ahead. Just be glad your idea is working so well.’

She notes Addison’s flash of pleasure but sees how it fades instantly as he goes on.

‘I’m never as good when someone’s around me constantly.’

‘You mean the Great Aunt?’ Carla is astonished. She knows the potential problems about the visit but really Addison has been out and about most of the time and Rebecca very good at keeping a low profile.

‘It’s just a little thing…’ His voice trails off and his eyes swivel to the window. Carla stretches out beside him and takes his hand. There is little response.

After a while he turns back to her. ‘I just hope the parents aren’t undoing the Lord’s brilliant work last night,’ he says with sudden forcefulness. She feels his fingers clench and knows that something very special must have happened to make him as vehement as this.

‘The parents admire you and are totally behind you.’

‘That’s what you think.’

‘Addison!’ Carla pulls herself up onto one elbow and stares down at him in bewilderment. ‘You know it as well as I do. Whatever’s going on with you?’

Addison shrugs and bites his lip. ‘Dunno. I just dunno.’

She gently strokes his face, as she would to calm Dinah. He smiles sadly at her. ‘Angel,’ he whispers. He shuts his eyes and is still for so long that Carla thinks he has fallen asleep under her ministrations. Then there is again a deep wistful sigh and he says, ‘I haven’t bought you a present yet.’

Carla has suspected this. But she’s not had presents for a long time except for the wedding ones from the Followers. It will not matter much – except that it underlines Addison’s condition and that hurts her. She needs his soul-stirring zest more than ever, to temper her underlying desperation. She must help him out of this hole as soon as possible. The house will not be the same until it’s once more filled with his effervescence.

As if reading her thoughts, Addison says, ‘I’ll need your help to get through this one. I’m so tired these days…’

‘Then sleep now,’ she tells him. ‘You know I’ll do everything I can.’

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Chapter 15:b

In which Rebecca makes an offer

Rebecca grows in energy and stature when the party is mentioned later. She is probably pleased that her idea is being acted upon.

‘How do you folk go about them, then?’ she asks, eyes shining.

‘People bring desserts, drinks and nibbles. The main dishes are my job. We had a wonderful party after the wedding,’ Carla adds, ‘and there have been a few more since. We didn’t have many gatherings at home,’ she says wistfully. ‘Dad was always too––’

Rebecca looks at her sharply and leaves the phrase hanging. Family loyalty matters to the old lady, of course. A miracle she has kept Carla’s whereabouts secret, really.

‘Right, I’ll spend the evening preparing some things if you like,’ Aunt Rebecca offers.

Carla is not sure she has heard right.

‘It’s okay,’ the old lady goes on. ‘I know it’s all pizzas and quiches and rice salads these days. I can be trusted, you know.’ Her sparkling eyes remove the sting from the words. But they still dart from Carla to Addison and back, as if keeping everything in check.

Carla grins sheepishly. ‘I do know. Sorry… I just thought… well, thanks,’ she says finally, as she sets out knives, forks and spoons for their evening meal. She has made Addison’s favourite dinner: a spicy chicken curry with jacket potatoes. Too hot for this evening really, but a measure of her desire to cheer him up. ‘We could get a few things in from the supermarket,’ she suggests.

‘Goodness no,’ is the startled reply. ‘I may as well make myself useful while I’m here. Nothing like home-made if you want to impress.’

‘Well, you can’t do it all,’ Carla states, settling Dinah in her carry cot and fetching salt and pepper from the kitchenette.

‘I wasn’t going to. You’re going to skivvy for me while Addison puts Dinah to bed. Then you two can have some well-earned time together before you’re both so tired you just drop into bed.’

Carla looks over at Addison who has played no part in the conversation and notices how he averts his gaze, almost embarrassed at the suggestion. She turns back to Great Aunt Rebecca. ‘Okay, thanks.’

At least that will give her an hour or so to try and get Addison to talk.

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