The Fifth Gospel

by Grubb, Michelle

  Seb shook his head. “How on earth did you get a degree at university?”

  Anna punched him.

  “Pro choice isn’t about which one of you is right or wrong. It’s about believing in the freedom to make a choice. In this example, I assume Flic believes a woman should be free to make the choice, based on her unique circumstances.”

  Anna nodded, finally understanding. “So she might not choose abortion herself, but might agree with others that in some circumstances, it’s a valid decision.”

  “She might. Yes.”

  “And the church group I met.” Anna stumbled on her words, but eventually managed to get them out. “The gay group. They’re exercising their right of free choice, but they also want to worship the Lord.”

  “In fact, they’re exercising free choice in many ways. They have the right to be gay, the right to be Catholic, the right to meet and worship as a group.” Seb was in full swing. “And the list goes on.”

  Anna was beginning to feel the neatly segmented parts of her life merge. It frightened the hell out of her. The lines that so clearly defined her creative side and her orderly, faith-driven side, were blurring. She was slowly recognizing the beauty in gray.

  *

  The purposeful tap on the door suggested it was Max, but it felt so ridiculously early. Flic was surprised to see it was already eight o’clock. Regardless, her scheduled appearance at England’s last surviving LGBT bookshop, Gay’s the Word, wasn’t until seven that evening. The next knock echoed through her room. What on earth is so urgent?

  “Max, come on. What is so damned—?”

  Flanking Max were two people in suits. One of them was agent Stark. The other was a young man dressed badly in a shiny gray suit. She briefly wondered if real life police deliberately went out of their way to dress exactly as they did on television.

  “Flic, you remember Bethan Stark?” Flic nodded. “And this is her colleague, Agent Roman Ali.”

  Flic nodded and smiled at Stark, but a million thoughts rushed through her sluggish mind. “What’s this about?”

  “Can we come in?” asked Stark.

  Flic ushered them in, including Max, and pressed the button by the bed that raised the blinds. “Can I offer you coffee?”

  Both agents nodded. Max shook his head.

  Flic dialed room service and ordered fresh coffee. She wasn’t the slightest bit hungry, but she ordered a selection of pastries, too. “So now can you tell me what this is about?”

  “Miss Bastone.” Stark was all business. “Have you received any unusual e-mails or messages lately?”

  Flic raised her eyebrows. “Please don’t call me that. Flic or Felicity is just fine.”

  Flic made a point of not looking at any of her messages unless they came from family or very close friends. She had one private e-mail address and a private phone number. Neither registered to her name. Griffin’s handled all her social media. Thoughts of Paris and vulnerability filled her head. Seeing Stark again was enough indication that something serious was happening. She sat in a chair that Max swiftly moved beneath her.

  “I’ll take that as a no?”

  A film of sweat caused her instant stickiness.

  “Why are you asking?” Max took over.

  “We’ve been able to identify many members of the Order of Purity. We’ve been taking their involvement in your failed assassination very seriously, and since you’ve returned to England, at least three members of the Order have travelled to the UK also.”

  “It’s not just the wonderful English summer they’re here for, is it?”

  “We think not, but by the time we realized they were en route, they’d cleared customs and we’ve yet to find them.”

  “So you don’t know where they are?”

  Stark shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other. “No.”

  Before Flic had a chance to ask any questions, a loud knock pounded the door.

  Max opened it and Anna came bursting in.

  “Well, that’s certainly one way to make an entrance.” Flic was relieved room service exited the lift while the door remained opened. She needed caffeine urgently.

  “Oh, they’re here already!” Anna pulled up a chair and attempted to appear composed. She failed. Directing her next comment to Flic, she said, “I only just got the call from Dee that the police wanted to see you. I came as soon as I could.”

  Resting a reassuring hand on Anna’s arm, Flic caught her up to speed and she hit the ground running. “Here’s her schedule for the next four weeks.” Anna handed them a folder. “All the contact names and numbers are there. If you need either myself or Max, we’re available twenty-four hours a day. The team we have keeping Felicity safe is outstanding. They’ve been on board since the incident in Paris, they know the drill, and we’ll all work with you at every juncture.”

  “We need to find them first,” said Stark. “The list of people that might be helping them could be endless, given the reason for their outrage. But rest assured, this issue is a high priority and we’re doing all we can.” She turned to Flic. “You need to stay smart. No risk taking, and please follow the orders of your security team.”

  Flic nodded. She was slowly warming to Agent Stark.

  The moment MI5 left, Flic logged on to her computer and commenced work to increase her online security. She changed every password, deleted unnecessary files, and saved important documents to her cloud storage. Hacking her personal files was one way to get to her. Anna already had someone on the task of upgrading Griffin’s security.

  Anna’s phone rang. She answered, acknowledged the caller, and hung up. “Turn on the television.”

  “What now?” Flic had had enough action for one morning, and all before she’d had a chance to shower. She shoved a pastry in her mouth and stared wide-eyed at the television.

  Airing was footage of the pope. Pre-recorded and in English. His eyes were sunken, and he appeared drawn and gray, far older than his sixty-three years. All three of them squashed on the sofa and watched as the leader of the Roman Catholic Church announced he was a homosexual, that he had previously been conducting a relationship with the Camerlengo, and that he had resigned as pope. People were glued to their televisions all over the world. News programs showed people watching in Sydney, New York, and all over Europe and Asia. The emotional outcry from those sharing his faith was unfathomable. It was ironic that so many Catholics mourned his sexuality yet happily lived under the suppressed conditions imposed by the church.

  After all was said and done, he had no choice but to resign. That, in Flic’s opinion, was the only tragedy worth her mourning.

  While Felicity hadn’t caused this outcome, she was clearly reaping the benefits now, and a small part of her wished she’d never overheard the conversation in Rome many months ago. She felt genuine sorrow for the man who had been outed by a lover no longer content to hide their relationship, and he’d been shunned by a church that couldn’t accept his choices. His ability to lead the church had not once factored into this sorry mess. She didn’t try to conceal her tears.

  *

  Although this outcome was expected, the words of the pope stung. Anna couldn’t watch a moment longer and retreated to the bathroom. It was out there now. The pope was gay, and Anna felt conflicted. What would this mean for her church? Would there be a revolt? Would the flock simply just soldier on as if nothing had happened, elect a new pope, and carry on? And what about the man himself? Previously a strong and determined leader, he now resembled an empty shell of a man going through the motions imposed upon him by his employer. She felt sorry for him. She imagined if someone told Flic she could no longer be a writer because she was a lesbian. It sounded absurd. It was absurd, but it was exactly what had happened to the pope. Why was she feeling this way?

  She felt an arm around her shoulder and turned toward Flic standing close beside her.

  “Are you okay?” asked Flic.

  Comforted by Flic’s close proximity, Anna allowed
herself to lean into the embrace ever so slightly. “It’s funny how some things never seem quite true until you see it for yourself or it’s spoken aloud. Regardless of the likelihood.”

  “Disappointment is difficult even when you know it’s on the way.”

  Anna sighed.

  “Change is difficult, too, but these things find a way of working out. It may not be today, or for decades to come, but a change is inevitable. Not just for the Catholic Church, but for everyone.”

  “He seemed like such a good man.”

  “He still is a good man, Anna.”

  Anna nodded. “Yes, I think he is. If he had to have a relationship, there’s a huge part of me that just wishes he’d been discreet about it.”

  “You mean hide it like the others?” asked Flic.

  Anna nodded. “This would have been easy for me in the past. I would have had a clear standing on this.”

  “And now?”

  “Not so much.” Anna blew her nose. “Now there’s a nagging part of me that wonders why he should have had to have been discreet about love in the first place.”

  “I like that nagging part of you. She gives me hope.” Flic nudged Anna.

  “She gives me a bloody headache.”

  “What say we get some fresh air and a deliciously naughty breakfast?” Flic looked over to Max who was on the phone talking quietly in the corner. She mouthed “breakfast?” but he shook his head and gestured to the phone. “It’s just you and me, then. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  *

  No one was willing to predict the impact of the pope’s announcement on the crowd that might gather at Gay’s the Word. As it stood, a section of the road was cordoned off, and Flic was to read on a stage directly opposite the shop front. Although England’s only surviving LGBT bookstore, Gay’s the Word was relatively small and nowhere near the size of the rooms she’d been filling of late. This appearance differed a little from previous outings. Tonight was a celebration, a homecoming of sorts where food, drink, and an array of promotional products would be available. At eight o’clock, a ticketed charity dinner was taking place at a nearby venue where Flic was the guest of honor. Proceeds were being distributed among some of the struggling LGBT support groups, many of which received little or no government funding.

  Tonight was important, but Flic couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she was possibly being hunted in her own, largely Church of England faith, country. She thought she would be safer in England than in continental Europe. All the fear and worry that had faded since Paris had come flooding back. She was excited about the evening ahead, and she told herself it was madness for the members of the Order to attempt anything at such a security conscious event. She just needed to make it through the night, enjoy herself, and then sit down with Max, Anna, and Dee and discuss her security for the remainder of the tour. Stark had assured her there’d be agents on the ground in London, and between MI5 and her security team, she knew they’d have it covered.

  *

  Anna had done her best to maintain Flic’s enthusiasm throughout the day. She and Max had met with Agent Stark privately and learned that MI5 were treating the three missing men as serious and as a direct threat to Flic and possibly to London. It wasn’t considered a coincidence that the men flew to London the day before Flic arrived. Forewarned was forearmed, but Anna was seriously wondering if keeping up to date with things was worth the worry.

  She and Flic occupied the backseat of a black Mercedes SUV on the way to the evening event. She stole a glance at Flic and smiled. Flic loved London. She watched Flic stare at the hustling crowds filling the busy streets. They passed buildings and landmarks famous the world over—Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square, and Buckingham Palace—and she experienced a sense of pride to have returned home for what would be an amazing evening.

  Flic’s style had certainly evolved since Paris. Today she was dressed in a slim fit designer black suit with styled hair and flattering makeup. She looked like a million dollars. Her security team regularly hit the gym or ran for fitness, and since they came on board in Paris, she knew Flic had taken a number of gym classes and for her own peace of mind, was learning martial arts. She looked fit and she radiated confidence. It might not have been how she felt inside, but Flic was mastering the art of a seasoned celebrity. Summer in Europe left Flic tanned and healthy looking, and her modern hairstyle set off the celebrity style. If she could have found the top of the world, Felicity Bastone would have stood tall and proud upon it.

  “You look fabulous,” said Anna.

  Flic blushed. It caught Anna off guard to realize she was impressed to be able to make her blush. She briefly savored the power. “For once, you actually look like you’re enjoying this.”

  Flic smiled. “I’m enjoying a drive through London on my way to an event in the backseat of a nice car with my favorite person.” This time Flic blushed and turned away. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

  “Yep.” Anna inhaled deeply as the comment sunk in.

  “I’m not the only one who looks good today. You look stunning. That dress is amazing on you.”

  “Oh, you mean this old thing?” Anna pretended to iron out the creases of her black dress with her hands. She caught Flic’s gaze dart down to her cleavage. “Is it a bit low?”

  “No. Oh, God, I can’t believe I just did that. I’m sorry, I’m just really nervous.”

  “Do you always focus on inappropriate things when you’re nervous?”

  “No. Definitely not. Well, probably, yes, now I come to think of it.”

  “What can I do to take your mind off it?”

  “Oh, give me strength. You can’t say that to me. I’m vulnerable.”

  Anna realized her mistake. “I meant to take your mind off the event for a while and relieve your nerves.”

  Flic closed her eyes and rested her head back. “Phew, because for a while there I thought you wanted me to take my mind off your amazing dress and your great cleavage. Thank goodness we straightened that out.”

  “You’re impossible, Felicity Bastone.”

  “Maybe, but I feel a little more relaxed.”

  Flic pulled new black-rimmed glasses from her pocket and slipped them on. “Do I look like an author?”

  “I think you always have. You just look like one who wrote a best seller now.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  They traveled the next few streets in silence before Flic said, “I know we’re only just beginning this journey. I mean, we have the US and more of Europe scheduled, but this really has been a great achievement so far, hasn’t it?”

  Anna grinned. “Are you only just beginning to believe that now?”

  “Well, I’ve had a marketing expert tag along and absolutely hate the premise of my book. It’s been a little soul destroying at times.”

  “I’ve been watching and paying attention, Flic. You didn’t write a destructive lie, and the pope was gay all on his own without your help.”

  “I’m sorry I appeared flippant in my drive to promote the value of an openly gay pope. I think I was blinded by my own belief that love is love. I truly believe that to be the case, but I should have thought about how others would view my opinion.”

  Anna couldn’t help but reach across and take Flic’s hand in hers. “We both seem to have come full circle. I honestly thought you should have minded your own business and let the church deal with their problems. But by the same token, why hasn’t the church—me included—minded our own business and let people love who they want to love and believe in what they want to believe in?”

  Flic shrugged.

  “I’ve believed what I’ve been taught. I realize I have the right to question that.”

  “Just like I have the right to look down your top in times of stress.”

  Anna withdrew her hand and punched Flic’s shoulder. “No, idiot. Nothing like that.”

  Flic was suddenly serious. “Thank you. And I agree. We have com
e full circle and it’s been a most enlightened journey.”

  Anna changed the subject before she began to cry. She hadn’t been expecting sentiment on the journey. “Dee’s looking forward to introducing you tonight. It’ll be a special moment for her.”

  “It’ll be special for us all. She took a chance on me. I’ll be forever grateful.”

  Anna laughed. “Oh now, don’t go too far. Dee Macintosh doesn’t take chances; she takes calculated risks. You just happened to be an extremely sound risk.”

  “Either way, I can’t imagine any of this happening without her. Without you all, for that matter.”

  *

  After deftly negotiating London traffic, Max reverse parked the vehicle on the road running parallel behind Marchmont Street. It was six p.m. and they arrived in plenty of time and on schedule. Flic and Anna entered the tiny offices above the shop and the atmosphere was lively and thrilling. Dee had already arrived, and as someone thrust a glass of champagne into Flic’s hand, Dee toasted, “To my most successful author and dear friend, Felicity Bastone.”

  Flic shot Anna a cheeky sideways glance at the “dear friend” reference but didn’t care. It seemed that with her newfound wealth and status, everyone wanted to be her friend. “Cheers!” she declared, raising her glass and taking a long sip of the bubbles.

  There were so many people to meet, she simply couldn’t remember everyone’s names, but she’d learned from her previous experience and restricted herself to the one glass before her appearance. At dinner, however, she intended to let her hair down and celebrate her success. Laura would be there and finally have the chance to engage with Anna under less stressful circumstances than the initial meeting the day she and Flic rushed to the offices of Griffin’s. That day seemed so long ago now.

  The crowd was gathering outside, and as she stood at the window staring down over excited fans and those less excited and perhaps angry or annoyed, she watched as the police erected subsequent barriers designed to safely accommodate the ever-increasing numbers. The entire street was cordoned off, and powerful speakers stood above the crowd so even those farthest away could hear. To control any unrest—not that violence was expected—the crowds were effectively being penned into smaller sections for containment purposes.