*
Percy awoke with a start. The sun had gone down and his tea was lukewarm.
He pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time. Seven-thirty. He’d been asleep for hours. His neck was stiff, his backside numb.
On the screen a message was displayed saying that Phrike and Meera would be at The Tired Turtle that evening, if he wanted to join them. Why was Phrike always out with Meera, Percy wondered? There were rumours, but surely he wasn’t the sort of man to cheat on his wife, at least, not that openly?
Could he be bothered to go out, was the question. There were ingredients in the fridge if he wanted to cook, but nothing instant. He decided he would grab a meal at one of the hawker centres and then finish off the hangover with a pint. Then he’d head home early for bed.
Phrike had been very reassuring the night before, and Percy decided he would buy him a drink as a thank you. He’d told Percy that no matter what happened, he should live life as visibly as possible. He should not hide away and ignore the people following him. If it were the authorities watching him, as well as passionate young believers, this open behaviour would be reassuring to them. He must not appear complicit.
Percy had gulped; an actual gulp as if he were in a cartoon. Authorities?
Phrike had shrugged, and said it didn’t matter. They were everywhere in any case, and Percy had done nothing wrong; the best way to prove it was to show it. Phrike himself was talking freely, Percy had noticed. Something else Percy noticed, was that Phrike persisted in being evasive about his work. He’d always been vague, but Phrike’s seemingly sound knowledge on how to behave made Percy wonder again about it. He felt suspicious. Then he’d drunk five more bottles of beer and the suspicion seemed ludicrous; he’d shaken it off as paranoia.
Stretching as he stood, Percy noticed the guard passing through the lit car park below. A water bomb landed on his head as he watched. Two shadowy figures raced away from a balcony only a few doors along from his own; the boy neighbour was one. Percy looked down, straight into accusing eyes.
‘They went that way,’ said Percy, pointing.
‘You!’ came the reply.
‘No! Kids. That way.’
‘You wait there!’
So how to apply Phrike’s theory in this situation, he wondered?
27. JOYANN MEETS THE BOY
Just like the old days, Percy thought. Him with a cappuccino, and the orangey Indian woman covered in piercings sitting nearby. The Englishwoman, who before had been sweaty and scruffy and patronised The Bean with her two awful offspring, until converting to full-time expatism, was also there, along with her two Aussie pals. As ever, the three were dressed as if for an evening out, at nine-thirty in the morning. Percy recognised the two Aussie’s now, though he hadn’t known them before. They were in The Discussion Group. Vlad had completed her coupe, and the group now jostled with augmented breasts.
Percy was waiting for Joyann. No longer did she meet in The Bean with her brother and business partner for breakfast. The expanding business had separated the trio, pushing them to different parts of the city. Always, Percy looked back on that time as a happy one, even though living it was lonely. The past was always better than the present except when it wasn’t.
Saying she was working in her Sixth Avenue hardware store all week, Joyann had asked to meet him. She was late, but Percy didn’t mind, though the atmosphere of the day was strange. There was no koel calling, not that it always did; no dogs passing by in frilly clothes or fancy shoes; no maids lugging heavy bags. Singapore seemed to have slipped beneath more muted tones than normal. It was not an unusual day, but nor did it feel average. The sky was grey with the promise of rain, a deluge perhaps but maybe not. The ever-still air hung with moisture; the roads seemed desolate and passersby few. Sitting outside, feeling oppressed by the quiet, Percy wondered if he should go inside, into the bright room with its cool air. He looked in. The café was almost empty. He decided to stay put. For whatever reason, today he wanted company. The orangey woman and the reproduction triplets would suffice.
Just as he was deciding whether or not to buy a second drink before she arrived, Joyann appeared.
‘So sorry I am late, Percy.’
‘It’s fine. Can I get you a drink? How long have you got?’
‘That is the good part. I have all day. A great relief to me, as I thought I was going to be covering all this week and next, and I cannot be in two places at once. My mother needs me.’
‘Problem?’
‘Big problem. When everything was going well she wanted my brother, now she is sick and needs nursing I am the one she wants. I am very cross, Percy, because she and I are not close at all. I think she does not particularly like me. But she is my mother. I have to go to her. And she lives on the other side of Singapore.’
‘It’s not a very big place,’ Percy said, thinking he was being helpful.
‘Ah! Big enough at times like this. With this store back to normal I do not have such a big problem now. But I still have Lucas, and school. I will have to leave him.’
‘Lucas?’
Joyann stared.
Percy didn’t understand the look. ‘Who’s Lucas?’
‘My son.’
‘You have a son?’
‘You are joking, right?’
Percy weighed it up and opted for a safe answer. ‘Yes. I am joking. Lucas.’ He’d had no idea whatsoever that the child existed. Sal had not only run off with a married man, but a father.
Joyann’s brow became tight, eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.
‘Coffee?’ he asked, rising from his seat.
‘Double espresso, please.’
Percy went inside to the counter. Lucas? Did Sal know about the son when she ran off with Ethan? Ethan. How he hated that name. She must have known, surely. He smiled a little. She hated children. The smile fell away. Maybe she only hated them with Percy?
Order quickly filled, Percy rejoined Joyann. They were now alone.
‘So you’re going away for a while?’ he said, sitting down.
‘Yes.’
‘May I ask what is wrong with her?’
For the second time, Joyann stared. ‘Who is this imposter? What have you done with Percy?’ Joyann looked under the table. ‘Where is he? I demand to know.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Asking after my mother?’ a burst of laughter released. ‘You?’
‘She’s poorly, why wouldn’t I ask?’
Joyann laughed harder, eyes watering. She waved her hands, as if trying to keep him away. ‘You’ve cheered me up, Percy. Thank you. And I think the word poorly is very British. Very you. I like it. Poorly.’
Percy felt sure he’d just been insulted, but couldn’t work out in what way. All he’d done was ask what was wrong with her mother. Was that so strange? ‘It’ll be quiet without you around,’ he said, thinking he wouldn’t ask again.
‘We do not see that much of each other, Percy. But I will miss you. Where are you going next? I might join you, if that is okay? Just for an hour or so. I do not feel like rushing home. I will only start packing and organising myself. I can do that later.’
‘I thought I might go for a swim, but we could have a drink by the pool or something? Have a cup of tea.’
‘Okay. Then I will take a cab home. It sounds a very nice way to spend some time.’
‘We can walk the back way, rather than the main road.’ Percy was quite pleased Joyann wanted to spend time with him. He’d seen much less of her since her business had expanded and The Discussion Group had driven them both away. She was one of the few people whose company he enjoyed.
Joyann was smiling brightly. ‘Oh yes. You can show me where your followers trapped you. I look forward to seeing the commemorative plaque on the wall marking the spot where you helped the bent old man.’
Percy shook his head, and tightened his mouth. He was not going to talk about that today.
Joyann was determined, ‘I hear you have
been followed many times now? But not by Norman’s lady friends. Other people. Is this true?’
‘Can we talk about something else?’
Joyann nodded. ‘Of course. I am sorry. Please forgive me. And bless me. Amen.’
Percy threw a sugar lump at her. ‘Stop!’
She laughed. After a moment, she settled. ‘Forgive me! I mean it. I am so sorry Percy. I do not know what has got into me. It’s been a tense time. I signed the divorce papers so I am free of that worry. Maybe it is this making me silly.’
‘Maybe.’ Percy couldn’t help smiling. Joyann’s pretty face was beautifully animated.
‘Or maybe I am making the most of this time, right now. With my mother it will be hard. We cannot talk for long without falling into an argument. It is not only her fault, it is also my own. I misremember things about times gone by, I know that, so we make a bad match, because even when she is well, she tells me all sorts of things that cannot have happened. Her memory fills in non-existent gaps. Between us, there have been many conversations recalled that neither ever had. It is not easy. She is not easy. And she will certainly go on and on about Ethan.’
The Cult of Following, Book Two Page 20
