Part 12 (1/2)

*They were all covered in blood.'

*Yes. Good boy. Now what is the significance of that?'

Brian looked confused. He dropped his arm for the first time, then looked round at his mother, who gave him an encouraging smile.

*What did her b.l.o.o.d.y feet remind us of?' asked the priest.

He looked at his mum again. She raised her hand to scratch her nose, and said something under cover of it.

*Jesus on the cross, Father!' Brian yelled triumphantly.

*Good boy!'

The congregation burst into applause. Brian giggled and sat down. His mother gave him a hug.

*Now, boys and girls, you're all at school with Christine, aren't you?'

Scattered yeses.

*And haven't you all promised to remember that although she's a very special little girl, a very special little girl indeed, she's there for the same reason you all are a to learn.' Nodding heads. *She isn't there to perform little mirkles for you. She isn't there to help you with your homework. She isn't there to fill your orange bottle up after you knock it over. And she certainly isn't there to put a spell on anyone who annoys you, is she, Martin Maguire?'

Four rows down a small boy ducked out of sight.

The priest leant down on the pulpit. The smile slipped from his face. His eyes, colder now, scanned the congregation again. *And it isn't only Martin Maguire. He is a child and knows no better. There are some parents here today who might do well to remember the lesson too. Christine is a child, and while she is a child it is our duty to look after her, to protect her, to help educate her in the ways of man, not to exploit her or seek favour from her. Her day will come.' He waved a finger. *You may look upon our little island as the new heaven on earth. As the new Garden of Eden. But remember, as beautiful as the garden was, there was always the serpent lurking nearby, ready to pounce, to sin, to destroy. It is our duty to G.o.d and to Christine to be good, and true, and kind, and watchful. Only one person is important, that is Christine. So have faith! Be proud! Show love! But be on your guard!'

He stepped down from the pulpit to warm applause.

Father Flynn took centre stage again. *Thank you, Mark,' he said quietly. He turned to the congregation and nodded slowly. *Remember,' he said, *to thank G.o.d for this.'

*Thanks be to G.o.d,' said the congregation.

*And now for some general announcements. There will be no playgroup on Monday because Mrs McCleavor is down with a nasty flu bug. There will be a meeting of the parents' committee . . .'

I waited with Patricia in the churchyard while the congregation filed out of the church. Duncan stood with us. I shook a lot of hands. Little Stevie was cooed over. s.h.i.+ny happy people.

*What do you make of all that stuff about miracles, Duncan?' Patricia asked. *About the bull.'

He gave a little shrug. *It's what happened. Or so I'm told. I didn't see it myself.'

*Who did?' I asked.

*Most everyone. A church picnic. The other side of the island. I wasn't there that day.'

*What about the b.l.o.o.d.y feet?' asked Patricia. *What are they trying to say, that the blood is like . . . from a wound?' She looked at me. *What am I trying to say?'

*I don't b.l.o.o.d.y know.'

She tutted. *What's the word I'm looking for, Duncan?'

*Like she's a stigmatic,' Duncan said.

*That's the one. Like she's been nailed to the cross. Stigmatic. Is that what it was like, Duncan?'

*So I'm told. She just appeared in church like that one day. I wasn't there.'

*Who was?'

*Most of the church.'

*The same most?' I asked. *Or a different most?' I nudged him. *The most with the Host, in fact.' I smiled. He didn't. It seemed unlikely that we would ever spend a lot of time cracking jokes together.

I had no idea what Christine looked like, but I was pretty sure I would have noticed her leaving the church. Talk would stop. People would stare at her halo. But everyone stood around chatting. So normal. So normal it was abnormal. When the church was empty I said to Duncan, *So where's the Messiah?'

*Christine,' he said bluntly, *is probably in the back room. She usually waits in there with her mum until everyone's gone home. She doesn't enjoy all the attention. She gets upset.'

*Imagine the Messiah having a tantrum,' said Patricia. *You'd think the earth would spin off its axis.'

*Out of control into the universe,' I added.

*I'm only thinking out loud,' Patricia snapped.

Duncan looked embarra.s.sed. *I'd better get on,' he said.

The congregation was dispersing, making its way out of the churchyard and down the hill. Brightly coloured hats flapped in the wind. s.n.a.t.c.hes of the last hymn, hummed, blew back towards us.

*They're really sucked in by all this, aren't they?' I said.

*Dan . . .' started Patricia.

*Well, I . . .'

*Well, nothing, you should respect what . . .'

*I'd better get on,' Duncan repeated.

*I was hoping you might take us backstage and introduce us,' I said.

*To Christine?'

*Aye.'

*You make it sound like s...o...b..siness,' said Patricia, *backstage at a gig.'

I shrugged.

*Could you?' Patricia asked, hoisting Little Stevie up onto her shoulder. *Father Flynn did invite us, didn't he, Dan?'