Eden Burning

by Deirdre Quiery

  Cedric had been twisting the ring on his left small finger. He stopped. “This is my mother’s wedding ring?” He sat forward in his seat.

  “I didn’t know it was your mother’s until tonight did I? You had no problem with the other rings. How was I to know it was your mother’s ring? You chose it – remember?” The cigarette between William’s lips fell onto his knees. He let it burn through his trousers. “I knew from her notes that she was a Fenian. It was easy with the Blitz. I knew that the place would be in chaos.”

  Cedric leaned forward on top of the dashboard. An image of his mother holding him in her arms with Maria flashed into his head as though he had killed her like the others he had killed with William.

  “Did you not go back to check on Eileen and the baby?”

  “I was going to do that after I killed her.”

  There was silence. William strained forward to see Sammy P.

  Cedric undid his seat belt and slid back in the seat, staring at the ceiling of the taxi.

  “So, you … you … murdered my Mother?”

  “How many times are you going to say that to me? Would you shut up? I didn’t know she was your fucking mother, did I?”

  “I’ve been lying tossing and turning all night wondering about what happened to my Mother and all the time little did I know that the man lying in the bedroom next door, the man who calls himself my father, was her murderer. What kind of person was she?”

  “How do I know?”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Scared.”

  “You bastard.”

  “I didn’t know. I could have killed you and the girl. I didn’t.”

  “What do you want? A thank you for not killing me? Maybe it would have been better for everyone if you had killed me.”

  “Could I have known what had happened to the real baby Cedric? I met Eileen outside the hospital. She had a baby in her arms. She said, “William look, isn’t he beautiful?” We walked home with the bombs still falling all around us. We spent an hour in an air raid shelter at the bottom of the Ormeau Road. Eileen breastfed you in a corner, covering your ears with a blanket, and she made me say prayers of thanks to God for saving your life. When we got home, she lit a candle, asked me to kneel on the ground and give thanks to God. Why didn’t she tell me the truth?”

  “What would you have done if she had?”

  “I don’t know.” William lent forward on the steering wheel and began to whimper. “You’re not my son.”

  “No. I’m not.”

  William slowed down to ten miles an hour and smashed his head against the steering wheel three times. Blood trickled onto the leather wheel. Sammy P in the Mini Cooper in front indicated left. William didn’t indicate; he swung the wheel violently left, forcing the taxi off the Crumlin Road. The wheels slipped, skidded and revved on black ice. His breathing was rapid. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly; his foot pressed at first the accelerator and then immediately the brakes, swerving to park behind Sammy P. The tyres squeaked and squealed as they rubbed against the edge of the kerb.

  “What are you going to do?” William asked Cedric, his eyes soft and doe-like. “You’re not going to leave me are you?”

  Cedric stared straight ahead in silence. He pulled on his leather gloves. “What does it matter?”

  “It matters.”

  The spires of Holy Cross Church reached into a cloudless starry sky. The front doors of the church were open, pouring a mellow liquid orange light onto the steps.

  “What fucking time is it?” William sat straight up in the seat, grunted, wound the window down and spat onto the road.

  “Two minutes to seven,” Cedric replied in a lower voice, without looking at his watch.

  • • •

  “That’s them.” Eileen gripped Lily’s hand as the bus pulled to a stop. She pointed at the black taxi stationery on the side street off the Crumlin Road.

  “How do you know?”

  “The number plate and the dent in the back door.”

  “We can do it.” Lily threw her arm around Eileen’s shoulder. “Quick. Let’s go.”

  • • •

  Rose climbed the steps of the Church, pulling the orange and yellow tea cosy of a hat which Lily had knited for Christmas down over her ears. Her platform shoes slipped on the frosty glaze of the first step. She caught hold of Tom’s arm. He pressed her hand. They walked towards the front of the Church where an altar boy lit two candles.

  Father Martin walked to the altar to check the readings, his black habit covering the sins of a large paunch. He placed his glasses on the tip of his nose and looked over the top of them at the first reading from the Second Book of Samuel. It told the story of David who had spotted the beautiful Bathsheba bathing. He asked for her to be brought to his Palace. He slept with her. When she became pregnant, David invited her husband back from battle to dine and then encouraged him to go and sleep with his wife. Uriah refused. He then invited him again and tried to make him drunk but he still refused to sleep with his wife, the stunning Bathsheba. In exasperation, David asked for Uriah to be sent into the thick of battle and there he arranged for him to be murdered.

  Father Martin heaved a sigh of relief that it wasn’t Sunday and that he didn’t have to give a sermon to explain the story. That would have required him to think about how David who had fought Goliath could be so weakened by the sight of a beautiful woman. How could he try to entrap Uriah after Bathsheba became pregnant? Why did Bathsheba betray her husband? What did she think when her husband was murdered? Why did Uriah not want to sleep with his beautiful wife? How could a talented gifted man like David be so flawed? He was confused. Today, he didn’t need to worry as it was a weekday and there was no obligation to give a sermon. The congregation would have to work it out for themselves.

  He walked back to the Sacristy to change for Mass. Father Martin’s boots clicked across the marble floor sending hollow echoes around an almost empty church.

  “Is it not meant to be Father Anthony saying Mass tonight?” whispered Rose to Tom. “Where is he?”

  “I would have thought so but maybe he had to visit someone ill.” Tom scratched at his leg through his trousers.

  • • •

  Eileen hammered on the window of the black taxi. William wound the window down. “What’s going on, Eileen? What are you doing here?” William spluttered, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

  Cedric looked past Eileen at Lily, who opened her handbag, lifting out an almost empty half bottle of gin. “We need to talk.” Lily’s eyes were wide open, thick black mascara eye lashes blinked at Cedric. She took a sip from the bottle and passed it to Eileen as she reached a hand through the window to Cedric.

  “You don’t drink,” Cedric whispered.

  “I don’t normally, but no-one would call this a normal situation.” Eileen closed her eyes and tilted her head back gulping at the gin. “Revolting.” Eileen coughed as she handed the bottle back to Lily.

  “I find it a tonic.” Lily eyed what was left. “We don’t know each other but I’m your aunt Lily. You can call me Lily.”

  Cedric found himself shaking Lily’s hand.

  William sighed. “Get in the back.”

  In the back seat of the taxi Eileen held Lily’s hand, while Cedric twisted around in the front passenger seat to look at Eileen.

  “Well Eileen, I don’t know what you’re planning, but let me give you a quick news update. It was William who murdered my mother.”

  “What?” Eileen squeezed Lily’s hand tight.

  “You said that you heard a baby crying. You found a mother with two babies, her throat slit. It was William who cut my mother’s throat.”

  Eileen leant forward in the seat, dropping Lily’s hand. “You didn’t murder her, did you William? How could you? How …” She struggled to find the right words. “You coward!” She thumped at his shoulder three times with a curled fist. “Tell me you didn’t do it. Tell me!”

&nbs
p; William held his head in his hands and in a muffled voice whispered, “I did it. She was the one that I regretted most.” William lifted his head from his hands and stared straight ahead.

  “How many more have you murdered?”

  “Maybe ten.”

  “Maybe? You don’t even know?” She lay back resting against Lily in disgust.

  “Ten.”

  “I don’t believe you. Didn’t it start with James in 1941? I’ve seen your attic ring collection. It’s more than ten. I don’t know how many rings you’ve handed out as presents.”

  Lily sat forward and brought her lips close to Cedric’s ear. “You didn’t know your mother, Cedric. I did. She would ask you now to stop the killings. Rose, who you are planning to kill tonight, is your niece. You are her uncle,” Lily continued.

  William shuffled in his seat to turn and look at Lily without making eye contact with Eileen.

  “Is there any of that gin left?”

  “A drop.” Lily handed over the bottle to William in the front seat.

  From the silence in the back of the car, it was Eileen’s turn to lean forward. “I made a mistake, William, not telling you the truth. Tell them the rest, Lily.”

  Lily coughed and nodded. “OK. You need to know that Catherine baptised him a Catholic on the night of the blitz. You’re a Catholic, Cedric.”

  “What does that mean?” Cedric rubbed his leather gloves together.

  “What you want it to mean.” Lily placed a hand on his shoulder. “Can I ask you a favour?”

  “What?” Cedric questioned uneasily.

  “Can you show me something? We need to get out of the car for a minute.”

  Cedric opened the door of the car and stood outside waiting for Lily to join him. William and Eileen strained forward from inside the car.

  “May I?” Lily indicated to his shirt with a gloved hand.

  He nodded.

  She pulled his black shirt from his trousers. “Look.” She pointed at the three hearts above his navel.

  Eileen nodded from the back seat.

  “Jonas.”

  Eileen reached forward to William in the driver’s seat. She touched him on the sleeve. “Forgive me for not telling you.”

  “Where’s Sammy P?” Cedric broke the silence, tucking in his shirt, climbing back into the taxi and looking at his watch.

  “He will have set the timer by now.” William whispered. “He is due back here in five minutes.”

  “OK. If he gets back here before I see him, tell him to go back and defuse the bloody bomb.” Cedric pointed at William. “You sort that out if he comes back. I’ll see if I can find him. He’s maybe still at the car.”

  Cedric opened the front passenger door, heaved himself out of the car.

  “You’re not going to kill Rose, are you?” Lily shouted from the back seat.

  Cedric bent over and pushed his head through the open window to within a couple of inches from William’s face. “No. I’m not going to kill Rose. The killings are over. Aren’t they, William?”

  He withdrew his head and William nodded. “Yes, the killings are over.”

  “Are they really over William?” Eileen tugged at his tweed jacket.

  “Yes, really over.”

  Cedric slapped the roof of the taxi twice and then ran towards the Grove, opening the small metal gate at the edge of the road, splashing through puddles thinly topped with ice.

  “Cedric, wait for me.” Eileen shouted from the car, tumbling onto the frozen pavement to follow Cedric. “Lily, stay with William.”

  “I will.” Lily waved after Eileen. “Follow him Eileen. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

  “William. William. What a mess.” Lily leant forward again.

  “Is there anything left in the gin bottle?” William looked over his shoulder at Lily.

  “Not a single drop.”

  “Better that way. What will happen now? Will Eileen ever forgive me?”

  “Eileen has forgiven you. I know it’s hard to believe but you also know Eileen. With Eileen you don’t wait for forgiveness to happen. You either forgive or you don’t. Time doesn’t come into it. She is extraordinary. She sees beyond time. She doesn’t need time,” Lily whispered.

  “The families of the people I’ve killed won’t forgive me. They’ll want me dead.”

  “They’ve suffered. You will have to live with the consequences. I can’t speak for them.”

  William’s left leg twitched and his head shook from side to side. “Do you not hate me?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you get sick of hating people who hate people.”

  “I did it because I wanted to do it. I enjoyed killing.”

  “You are not enjoying it now are you?” Lily said gently.

  “No.” William rested his head on the head rest.

  “Are you OK?”

  “I’m OK.”

  Lily watched two tears roll down William’s face, glistening like smoothed diamonds in the moonlight. He sneezed. They shook from his chin like drops of water from a closing umbrella.

  “I’ve been a bad boy.” William brushed the tears away with the back of his hand, straightened up in the seat, took the handbrake off and strapped his seat belt on. “Let’s drive to Holy Cross Church and see what is happening. There’s no sign of Sammy P. He’s missed his time check. Something must have happened. He’s never late.”

  “Let’s go.”

  William drove slowly along the edge of the Grove looking for space to do a three point turn. He reversed the taxi, drove to the end of the side street, indicated left and turned onto the Crumlin Road.

  • • •

  Mr McCabe parked his white soft topped MG beside the red Mini Cooper outside the side door of Holy Cross Church. He tried to open it. “It’s the main door we’re using this evening,” a tall man with red hair called over to them.

  “Thanks.” Mr McCabe rubbed his leather gloves together as he climbed the main steps into Holy Cross Church with Peter. Mr McCabe stamped his feet to warm them before opening the oak door which led into the main aisle.

  “Mr McCabe, before we go inside, I want to thank you for accompanying me this evening. You didn’t need to do this. I really do appreciate it. You may find yourself in trouble with Mother mind you.” Peter bowed low and shook hands with Mr McCabe.

  “Your Mother is the kind of woman who will understand.” Mr McCabe rubbed his hands together.

  “Let’s see if we can find Rose.” Peter jumped onto the second step.

  “You seem remarkably calm, Peter.” Mr McCabe mopped his own brow with a handkerchief.

  Peter smiled at him. “You’ve succeeded in putting me at my ease.”

  Then Peter spotted Rose. She was sitting in the third bench from the altar on the left hand side. He pushed the coat’s hood back from his head.

  “Remember to genuflect, my dear boy, and to bless yourself. It is very important to follow the customary rites and rituals. Do as I do.” Mr McCabe dabbed Holy Water onto Peter’s forehead from the Holy Water font at the front door. He walked towards the front of the church, genuflecting at the end of Rose’s bench, blessing himself before putting out his hand to shake hands with Tom and Rose.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. You must be Tom and of course you will be Rose.” Mr McCabe smiled broadly as he shook Rose’s hand. Peter shook Tom’s hand and blushing took Rose’s hand.

  “Let the prayers begin.”

  Mr McCabe knelt.

  Tom reached across and patted Mr McCabe’s hand. “You must be Peter’s teacher. Thank you for coming and for the offer of the house in Portstewart.”

  Mr McCabe looked at Tom over the rim of his glasses. “It is a pleasure.”

  Tom smiled. “Thank you again.”

  Father Martin’s reputation for saying Mass quickly was legendary. He didn’t disappoint. At seven twenty-five he raised his hands for the final blessing as Cedric burst thr
ough the back door of the church. He stood dressed totally in black, legs apart, black leather gloved hands waving above his head.

  “No one must move to the back of the Church. Stay where you are or go further forward. There’s a car bomb outside.”

  The first scream came from a woman sitting alone on the last bench. She scrambled to her feet and ran squealing up the side aisle towards Father Martin at the main altar. That started a tsunami as each of the rows on either side of the main altar at the back of the church emptied and rolled forward towards the front. Eileen staggered in through the back door and clicked in her solid brogues towards Cedric. Father Martin stood frozen on the main altar one hand still in the air with a suspended blessing.

  Father Anthony virtually fell through the back door of the church clutching a stubby red-faced man by the arm and pointing Father Martin’s rifle awkwardly at the man’s chest. Father Martin watched Sammy P struggle to pull away from Father Anthony’s strong grip.

  “This man has put a car bomb outside. Call the police.” Father Anthony shouted to Father Martin, who now had almost the entire congregation bobbing beside him on the main altar.

  “Wait,” Cedric interrupted, “Sammy P can defuse the bomb. Sammy P, you’ve got time. Defuse it.”

  “Ten minutes. For these fuckers you must be joking.” Sammy P shook his head violently. “I could be killed.” He spat the next words at Cedric, “What’s got into you? Have you had a brain bypass?” Sammy P shook his head and continued attempting to wrestle free from Father Anthony’s grip.

  “Give me the keys.” Cedric walked toward Sammy P, holding out his hand. “Give me the keys.” Sammy P fumbled in his pocket with his free hand. “Now!” Shouted Cedric.

  Sammy P threw them onto the marble floor. Eileen picked them up and passed them to Cedric.

  “Father Martin, get everyone into the monastery and stay there until you are told that it is safe to leave,” Father Anthony shouted from the back of the church. “Move quickly. Get them out of here. We have less than ten minutes.”