Part 24 (1/2)

*Might I ask how?'

*Pollution, Dan. Pollution. It's all around us already, but we don't need to invite any more in. We know about satellite TV, Dan, we know what kind of channels it contains.'

I shook my head. *I don't wish to cause a fuss, but it's not much different to ordinary television.'

*We've outlawed ordinary television as well.'

*Oh.'

*Dan . . .' Flynn began.

*But what else is there to do?' I asked. I was flailing about, hopelessly.

*Oh Dan,' Flynn said with a rueful shake of his head. *You do live such an empty life. You don't need television to enjoy yourself. You don't need alcohol to have a good time.'

*Who mentioned alcohol?'

*You've been asking questions, Dan. We don't need any of those things. We have everything we need' a he clasped his hand to his chest a *right here in our hearts. All you have to do is open your heart and all the answers you seek will be forthcoming.' He smiled warmly. *Y'know, Dan, there are momentous events coming, we all need to be ready.'

The next momentous event on my calendar was the world heavyweight clash between Tyson and Lewis. They didn't know that my satellite dish was useless in its present state, but now they seemed intent on robbing me of the chance to see even the edited highlights on terrestrial television.

I tried to smile back, to show them I was taking it in jocular fas.h.i.+on, but it wouldn't quite come. All they saw was a hint of a snarl and all they heard was a mediocre whine. *But surely television isn't so . . .'

*It's dangerous, Dan. Poisonous. We don't need it here.'

I tutted. *Okay . . . you know, I respect your beliefs here, Father, everyone, I understand where you're coming from . . . I don't want to upset anyone, but can we just, ahm . . . discuss this for a moment? Just widen it out a little . . . I mean . . . if you think about it . . . y'know . . . even shoes are dangerous, Father, in the wrong hands. Or feet for that matter. I mean, a good kicking with a pair of Doc Martens can kill you, but you don't outlaw shoes. If you see my point.'

*I see your point, Dan. But let's just say that we're not in a discussive situation here. The law has been pa.s.sed. It's the law.' He smiled at me again. *We love you, Dan. You've already made a ma.s.sive contribution to our lives here. But the law is the law and must be obeyed by everyone. It may seem dictatorial to you. But everybody voted for it, so it's democratic as well.'

Yes. Indeed. Everyone gets equally f.u.c.ked.

I shrugged. Not one of my more convincing shrugs, but a shrug all the same. *Well, okay,' I said, *if that's the way youse feel, who am I to argue? You've G.o.d on your side.'

*We have,' said Flynn.

Father White knocked suddenly on the table. *Might I suggest that Mr Starkey bring his satellite dish and television into town as soon as he can? Just to put temptation out of his way. Constable Murtagh can look after them until he leaves the island. Agreed?'

I opened my mouth to say something about good faith being a fundamental tenet of Christianity, although I had no idea if it was, but before I could say anything there was a sudden rush of ayes and Father White's proposal pa.s.sed. I slumped down in my chair.

25.

I knew from my long years of reporting council meetings that anything and everything could crop up under the Any Other Business heading. It sat misleadingly at the tag end of an agenda, like an afterthought, but invariably became the longest and most emotive part of any meeting, and those were meetings where the most important item for discussion was usually the collection of garbage, Sunday opening of shops or the amount of dogs.h.i.+t to be found on the local pavements. This one, on (one would be tempted to say G.o.dforsaken if it wasn't a trifle inappropriate) Wrathlin, was no exception, save that it dealt with less mundane subjects like the attempted murder of the Messiah, divine retribution and crucifixion.

I was still monumentally p.i.s.sed off. I could survive a murder attempt, but how was I going to get by without drink AND TV? And what would Patricia say? At least I could write my novel. What was she going to do all day with just Little Stevie to look after? Sew?

Sew my feet together, then lop off my head with an axe.

My head was still getting to grips with their simple lunacy, when they moved quickly on to a much grander form. Flynn asked if there was any further any other business, a mouthful in itself, and in response Father White stood and looked gravely about him.

Until that moment I hadn't thought to ask why there were two priests on such a small island. There had been bigger questions. White was much older than Flynn, but still well short of doddery. There was a feeling of power about him which Flynn lacked, although he made up for it with a certain kind of restrained charisma. Flynn was the more senior of the two as far as the running of the church and, indeed, the island was concerned. They had a common goal, but I suspected two different approaches to it. White was old school, Flynn was new. White was the rhythm method and Flynn was strumming guitars around the campfire.

I had thought at first that Father White might be the priest that the Primate had dispatched to the island to investigate the Messiah, who had been converted, but something about him made me doubt that.

Flynn looked a little pained as White waited for complete silence around the table, then tried to hurry him along with an abrupt, *Yes?'

*The small matter of the attempt on Christine's life, Father Flynn.'

*I thought that had been resolved.' He nodded towards Constable Murtagh. *She's still in your top room, isn't she?'

*Yes, Father, till this b.l.o.o.d.y fog lifts and we can get her across to the mainland. Her 'n' the bird warden.'

*And it's a watertight case, isn't it?'

Murtagh rubbed at his chin for a moment. *That's not quite so straightforward, Father. Legally, she should have had access to a solicitor by now. We don't have any, of course, but since the radio went down we can't even speak to one on the mainland. It could cause problems later.'

I turned to the man beside me and whispered, *Aren't there any phones on the island?'

He shook his head. *We pa.s.sed a law,' he whispered.

*Figures,' I said.

Father White knocked on the desk again. Flynn looked round sharply. *Father?'

*I was thinking, do we really want this to go to court at all?'

*She is a danger to Christine, I think it's best that she . . .'

*But we don't want a trial on the mainland, do we? There's no telling what might come out. I mean, about Christine. We don't want that yet, do we?' He was very fond of the do we's. He glanced at me. I held his gaze until he looked away.

Father Flynn sighed. *What are you suggesting?'

*That we find an alternative solution.'

*Well . . . suggest one. Anyone?'

There was some uncomfortable s.h.i.+fting in seats. It seemed obvious, at least to me, that Father White had already thought of an alternative, but was holding off until he saw what the compet.i.tion was.

There was movement to my left. Carl Christie swung back on his chair, two legs of it off the ground. *You mentioned an airtight case a moment ago, Father,' he said.

*Watertight.'

*Well, I have one at home we could lock her in. Then take her out and toss her in the sea.'