Earthly Delights (23 page)

‘Do you think it’s connected to the heroin deaths?’

‘I don’t know.’ He sat down heavily in the shop chair. ‘The police have taken paint scrapings from her clothes. There were bits of glass on the road. He may have broken a headlight. And she would have left a dent in his bumper. The accident investigation guy said that the driver was doing about thirty k’s. If it had been just five k’s faster she would be dead. In other news, I haven’t heard even a whisper about Cherie Holliday. No one knew the face or the name. She might have moved on. Would you mind if I just sat here for a while, Corinna? I like your shop. I like the way it smells. You don’t need to take any notice of me.’

As Kylie would say, as if. But people came in demanding bread and I sold loaves and cheese rolls and more muffins. That Jason had a perfect light hand with muffins. They were definitely better than mine. I was so used to bread that I tended to overmix them.

I gave Daniel a muffin, before they all got sold, and a cup of strong coffee. He looked very decorative against the wall of trays. They were silver and caught the light. With his dark, clean outline, he looked like a fallen angel repenting his error, sitting down at the gates of heaven until God changed his mind.

Of course, a fallen angel would probably not be eating blueberry muffins and drinking coffee. Then again, if they don’t have coffee in heaven, and bread, I’m not going. So there.

I was just handing over the last muffin to a customer who had always refused to eat them ‘because they were soggy’ and who was now an enthusiastic convert, when I heard ‘Psst!’ from the bakery.

‘Yes, Jason?’

‘Is Daniel there?’

‘Yes, but he’s resting. Just give him time to finish his coffee, eh?’

‘Oh. Yeah. Right,’ said Jason.

‘The muffins have sold out again,’ I told him. ‘You’ve got just the right touch for muffins. We’ll have to make more tomorrow.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, sounding a bit stunned. I toned down the enthusiasm. The young find enthusiasm uncool. The whisper came again, more urgently.

‘Did Daniel say something about Suze? Is she all right?’

The shop was otherwise empty, apart from a contemplating angel. I went to the bakery door. Jase grabbed my hand. He was really worried.

‘Sort of all right. The bad news is that she was knocked down by a car. The good news is that she’s alive with a broken pelvis and she’ll have to stay in hospital for ages. Also, her mum is willing to have her back if she’s off drugs.’

‘Hey,’ he said, blooming into that happy smile. ‘Sweet as!’

‘Daniel thought so,’ I told him. ‘So do I. So did Goss. Who is out, by the way, if you want to come into the shop.’

He shook his head for no. Still very street-shy, our Jason.

‘Can I go and see Suze?’ he asked.

‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘You’ll have to get some better clothes and perhaps if you go with Goss or Kylie or me they might let you in. They know she’s an addict. They won’t let anyone in who might be … sorry, Jason …’

‘Smuggling in stuff,’ he completed the sentence. Instead of going off the planet, as I expected, about anyone questioning the purity of his motives just because he was as thin as a wraith and had needle scars on both arms, he thought about it. Goss was not the only one who was exhibiting signs of growing up today.

‘I better leave it a week,’ he said soberly. ‘She’s gonna be real bad for a week. Suze was up to five hundred a day.’

‘Five hundred what?’

He gave me the identical Goss/Kylie ‘what’s the weather like on your planet?’ look. He rubbed finger and thumb together in a very universal gesture.

‘Dollars,’ he said.

I boggled. When I thought of what Suze would have had to do to how many people in order to earn five hundred dollars every day I was profoundly glad that she had broken her pelvis in two places. Apart from anything else, she needed a rest.

‘What was your habit worth?’ I asked, as if it was an idle question.

‘Not much. Couple of caps. Just to dull it out, you know?’

‘So that it didn’t hurt so much?’

‘Yeah,’ he hung his head. I wasn’t going to push him.

‘Do you feel better now?’

‘A bit. Everything hurts, though, you know? Like I just burned my finger. It’s not bad, see?’ He showed me a small red patch. It would not even blister. ‘But it hurt like I’d put my arm in the gas flame.’

‘That’s bad,’ I commented. I would have to ask Daniel about this. I knew precisely as much as the ordinary person knew about heroin, which was nothing at all.

Jason shrugged. ‘Why don’t we make doughnuts?’ he asked.

‘Because I’d need to buy a fryer,’ I said.

‘You could do that,’ he said.

‘Yes, but I would also need to learn how to make them, have a hot tray to keep them warm, and enter into direct competition with the doughnut shop just near the station,’
I replied. He looked a little crestfallen. ‘But if you’d like to invent some new muffins, I’ll be happy to let you try them,’ I said.

‘New muffins?’

‘Yes, why not? Try some combinations, maybe put nuts in them. There’s a shelf of books over there. Why not have a look?’

He looked evasive. ‘I … lost my glasses,’ he said.

‘I’ve never seen you wear glasses,’ I said, surprised.

‘I don’t read that good,’ he mumbled as the moment stretched out. ‘I’m stupid. Didn’t you know that?’ he demanded savagely. I had to think of something fast.

‘That’s because you’ve never wanted to read,’ I said. ‘They never gave you cookbooks to read, did they?’

‘No,’ he admitted.

‘Well, then. Take down that little one—yes, that one—open it at the first page, and read it to me. I’m not going to watch. I have to get back into the shop.’

Very reluctantly, Jason dragged himself across the bakery, found the book
Muffins and Tea Cakes
and I heard him begin to read as I went back into the shop.

‘Tea is a meal wh … whi … Shit. Must be which is taken in the … after … afternoon,’ he said. ‘Tea cakes or muffins are usu … usua … whatever, served at tea.’

We had limped and stammered through two pages when Daniel stirred. Goss had come into the shop, almost dragging a Goth girl by the hand.

‘Hello, Carol,’ I said, peering at her as I always did. There must be a face under all that make-up.

‘She isn’t Carol,’ said Goss, bubbling over with excitement. ‘She’s Cherie. This is Cherie Holliday.’

‘Hello, Cherie,’ I said. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Not for the life of me. Apart from ‘would you like a ham roll?’ which didn’t seem appropriate. Daniel rescued me. He took the girl’s hand in both his own and she thawed a little.

‘No wonder no one knew you on the street,’ he said easily. ‘You weren’t on the street.’

‘Never was,’ snapped Cherie. ‘I had some money. I stayed at a hostel. I got a job. At the boutique. Did you do the posters?’ she demanded of me.

‘Yes,’ I admitted. She looked ready to fly at me with those black nails.

‘Is it true?’ she said in that tight, hard voice. For a moment I didn’t know what she was asking. Then I caught on.

‘Yes, it’s true,’ I said. ‘The man was caught, he’s in jail, and your father believes you. He knows it was all true.’

‘He called me a liar,’ she said. I felt helpless. This was not the return of the prodigal daughter for which I had been hoping.

‘Hey,’ said Daniel gently. ‘The man’s been suffering to the max.’

‘So have I,’ she returned tartly.

‘He made a mistake,’ Daniel said relentlessly. ‘Have you never made any mistakes? Call the Guinness Book of Records,’ he said to Goss. ‘A girl who’s never made a mistake.’

‘Carol,’ Goss urged, embarrassed. ‘Don’t be such a bitch! You should see the poor man. He’s sorry. I never saw anyone that sorry before.’

‘I don’t care,’ snarled Cherie.

‘You don’t have to see him,’ said Daniel. ‘You can go back and hug your pain and humiliation to your breast and sour your life with it. We can’t stop you. We’ll tell him you’re still alive and you still hate him,’ he said.

There was a long pause. Then Cherie drew herself up.

‘I’ll tell him myself,’ she replied haughtily.

‘Good,’ said Daniel. ‘Goss, go get Meroe. Tell her it’s an emergency,’ he added. ‘Tell her that you can mind her shop.’

‘Cool!’ Goss raced out. I pictured the scene. Goss selling the wrong kind of newt eyes. Goss telling fortunes with the wrong kind of cards. Goss telling the customers that magic was so cool. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, I smiled.

Daniel caught the smile. He was thinking the same thing.

‘She can’t go far wrong with “you will cross water and meet a tall dark handsome stranger who is like totally cool like Tom Cruise”,’ he suggested.

Carol/Cherie had felt our attention turning away from her and didn’t like it.

‘Who’s Meroe? What’s happened to Mum?’ she demanded.

‘Divorced,’ said Daniel. ‘She stuck with your assailant. Your father divorced her for it. This woman is Meroe the witch, and I’d moderate my tone, if I were you.’

‘A witch?’ Cherie was impressed. ‘Not the Sibyl’s Cave witch? Everyone says she’s mega cool. And powerful. I’ve got one of her talismans.’

‘The very same. She’s been looking after your father. I’d be polite,’ Daniel advised.

He didn’t need to warn her. By the time Meroe, hair flying and trailing a sky-blue silken wrap, sailed into the shop, Cherie was very biddable.

Goss had already explained the situation. Meroe inspected Cherie. Cherie allowed the inspection.

‘We must clean your face,’ said Meroe firmly. ‘He will need to see you as you are, not as you choose to face the world. And you shall see him as he is. Come with me. You too, Corinna,’ she ordered, and I fell in at heel as well as Cherie.
Auctoritas
, as the Prof said. Meroe definitely had it.

Daniel sat down behind the counter and patted Horatio.

Meroe took Cherie into her own bathroom and they emerged, ten minutes later, heavily scented with some aromatic oil. Cherie now looked like her picture. She had a strong, determined chin, a pale complexion, a high forehead and sharp, intelligent eyes. I could not read her expression. All her emotions were tightly corked. And were likely to go off with a bang.

‘Oil of …?’ I asked, sniffing.

‘Sage,’ said Meroe. ‘For clarity. Come,’ she ordered, and we followed her into the lift. Meroe had her usual basket. Cherie clutched her leather handbag closer to her bosom. I was hoping that she wasn’t armed. She might have spent three years contemplating revenge on a father who had betrayed her. Or she might just be intending to tell him that he was a bastard and walk out. In which case, she would about finish off poor pathetic Andy Holliday. He would dive into a bottle and in due course they could just pour him into his grave.

Meroe calmly entered the door code and we went in unannounced. Andy was lying in his T-chair, almost watching some football. He turned his head as we came in. He wasn’t
drunk, but he had definitely been drinking. Cherie stopped dead and stared at him.

Meroe left them there and went across the room to open the door of the second bedroom. I had no idea what she was doing. I felt like I should incant something because this meeting had every chance of going horribly wrong.

‘I saw the poster,’ said Cherie in that tight voice.

‘Baby?’ asked Andy Holliday, trying to get to his feet and wallowing in the chair.

‘Is it true?’ she demanded.

He wrenched himself upright and stopped just out of touching distance while he stared avidly at her, from head to feet and back again.

‘It’s you,’ he said. ‘I looked for you everywhere and I couldn’t find you.’

Cherie nailed him with her hard eyes. ‘Is it true? Do you believe me now?’

‘I believe you,’ he said. ‘I think I always believed you, but your mother … but I got rid of her. I believe you,’ said Andy Holliday, sagging down to the carpet. ‘I believe you.’

‘Daddy?’ she said in a high, child’s voice. They stayed just where they were, frozen, Andy on his knees on the floor, Cherie poised to run. Something had to happen to break the impasse and I could not imagine what it would be.

Then Meroe brought the large white teddy bear out of the second bedroom and thrust it into Cherie’s arms. She was shocked out of her bitter concentration and her face crumpled immediately. She dropped down to join her father and buried her face in the teddy bear’s fur. Andy Holliday embraced her and began to cry.

‘You brought Pumpkin Bear,’ she wailed. ‘Daddy, you brought Pumpkin back.’

Meroe joined me at a distance. She lit a small dish of gums and set it down on the marble table. I stole a cigarette from the packet and lit it. Ah, sweet goddess Nicotine, how I still miss your worship. I inhaled deeply.

‘I put a few drops of that Charlie perfume on the bear,’ she said. ‘Scent is more evocative than sight, sometimes. The frankincense will cleanse some of their bitterness and fear. They’ll be all right. I’ll come up and see them tonight.’

‘You’re amazing,’ I told her. She grinned her witchly grin and draped the azure silk around her shoulders. ‘Come along,’ she said. ‘I have to get back to my shop. I’ve left Goss in charge, and though she is mostly a sweet girl …’

‘With you all the way,’ I said, stubbing out the smoke.

The pair on the floor had forgotten that we were there and I’m sure they never noticed that we had gone.

Meroe ran back to the Sibyl’s Cave before Goss could sell someone the wrong ingredient for a magic potion and I went back into the bakery and evicted Daniel from the chair. My need was greater than his. I had interrupted Jason’s reading practice in mid-recipe and I gestured for him to go on.

‘Mix lig … liggly?’

‘Lightly,’ suggested Daniel.

‘Spoon into greased muffin pans and bake at three-fifty for ten minutes,’ Jason concluded triumphantly. ‘What happened upstairs?’ he asked.

‘It’s all right,’ I said to Daniel and Jason. ‘They had a reunion and are presently sitting on the floor, hugging each other and crying. Not that it wasn’t tense. Meroe was wonderful.’

‘Well, duh! She’s a witch,’ said Jason. ‘That’s nice. Suze is in hospital and Cherie Holliday is home. That’s a nice day,’ he said.