The Cult of Following, Book Two Page 2

  *

  The card session had begun shortly before dark. It had been arranged for some time and hung over Norm as a guilty cloud. Though his faith was loosening at the seams, he wasn’t entirely comfortable engaging in what he had been raised to believe was a sinful pleasure. In some ways, rather than freeing him, his growing doubt of the Mormon faith was making his approach to life all the more difficult. There was no longer a clear-cut division between behaving sinfully and acting piously, just a fuzzy non-choice that felt entirely alien. Being one thing or another had been easier. But it was too late, because Norm had discovered already that temptation was a key in a lock turning in one direction, and one direction only.

  In essence, temptation might be considered to have no variants, representing a single state: desire. Whether carnal desire or desire for guidance from a higher being, the longing for something more is the same. But in the unforgiving actuality of real life, temptation comes in many shapes and sizes. The temptation to which Norm was succumbing, however, was straightforward: to shake off the poorly justified rules which had always bound him.

  Avoiding the dangerously fuzzy middle ground was something Norm had always done but never before viewed it that way. His private life had witnessed a precise choice between sin and piety, Norm regarding any slip into fantasy as a reminder of the importance of spiritual strength. As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, he didn’t meet and marry his wife – all the while burying the fact of his homosexuality – expecting anything other than for his character to grow in strength.

  Norm’s wife, Verity, had shown little patience for the guilt that he felt over the card game, saying, ‘For goodness sake, why would playing cards be a sin? What God would look down upon Man and choose to deny him Snap? What next, Top Trumps?’

  He’d been hurt by this, because she had chosen to mock the one game that meant something to him. He had played Snap secretly as a child, with a non-Mormon friend, until they’d been caught by Norm’s mother who’d told her weeping son that Snap really wasn’t all that sinful, providing he didn’t try to win. Snap lost its pleasure, and Norm his one childhood vice. The subject of the card evening was soon dropped in the Sullivan household, Verity bored by Norm’s angst and he by her flippancy. He carried the uncomfortable feeling privately, the sense that even intention made him somehow dirty, until the card evening was upon him. Much to his surprise, he discovered that any sin present was not easily detectable.

  ‘So you enjoyed it?’ Verity asked, once the final guests had gone and she’d hefted her large frame onto a breakfast-bar stool. She sipped prosecco, while watching Norm make herbal tea.

  ‘It was fun. Nothing like I imagined and not as hard as it first seemed.’

  ‘So you won’t be struck down tonight then?’ It was said softly, kindly, as if Verity was apologising for her Snap remark.

  Norm smiled. ‘Honestly, I don’t know why I was so bothered. No one played for money and no one seemed very interested in winning. In fact, they were more excited when I won something than when they did.’

  ‘Even Percy?’

  ‘Especially Percy; he seemed very happy every time I made my choice and put down my cards, or picked some up, or whatever. It’s so hard to choose what to do at first. Anyway, it was nice.’

  Verity asked Norm to top up her drink. He obliged. ‘When are you seeing him next?’ she asked.

  ‘Percy?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We’ve a Discussion Group meeting on Monday.’ He took a moment before continuing; knowing he did not mean the invitation he felt obliged to make. ‘If you’re around, you could join us.’

  ‘That’s so sweet of you, Norman, but no. I’m away, and as I told Percy, I’d never be a reliable member.’

  ‘You and Percy talked about you joining The Discussion Group?’

  ‘Only in passing.’ She paused, inspecting Norm’s expression. ‘Don’t worry; it’s your thing. I won’t tread on your toes. But why not invite some of them here for dinner one night? They’re a nice bunch, and though I don’t want to join the group, I quite enjoy their company.’

  Norm was unsure what to say. He knew she got on well with them all, particularly Percy, and so it could be a fun evening. But something niggled, jealousy perhaps; or a sense that he’d be losing control of the only thing in his life not influenced by his wife.

  ‘Up to you,’ she smiled, carefully sliding from the stool and heading for a sofa. Gathering her long skirt, she sat down and curled up. ‘I’ll be in Jakarta all week, but then I’m around for a while. Organise it, if you’d like to. Sounds like your card evening was a great success, so I’m sure they’ll be keen for a nice supper.’

  ‘Cards weren’t my idea. That was Percy.’

  Verity laughed, knowingly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘What do you think? He’s a naughty man, is all.’ The huskiness of Verity’s soft welsh accent made her sound seductive.

  Hoping this was not how she was feeling, Norm took his tea and settled on the sofa beside her, feeling her toes moving beneath his leg. He sensed her looking.

  ‘What?’ he asked again, trying not to smile at his wife and her apparently amorous mood. It wasn’t something he would choose, but he enjoyed her interest; he liked to think he and she made a good team as husband and wife.

  Verity smiled back, her beautiful face glowing. She wiggled her toes again, the movement shifting the fabric of his shorts to touch his bare leg. She laughed, her hand reaching for his.

  Norm put down his tea and with an indulgent smile, braced himself.

  2. PERCY

  Percy threw his keys into the chair and made for the kitchen, where he drew a glass of chilled water.

  As he passed by the wastepaper bin, he observed it had again been put back into the sitting room, which meant the maid, Mila, had been to clean at some point that day. He visualised her big face and shuddered, thinking then of his new nickname for her: The Kraken.

  While glugging the icy drink, he returned to the sitting room and moved the bin back to his preferred location near the stairs. By his reckoning, this was counter manoeuvre number fifty. He may have to kill The Kraken, he thought, before deciding he couldn’t risk it. He’d have to leave that particular job to Godzilla. Percy smiled as he thought; was Godzilla his own wife? Was Sal a giant lizard-gorilla-like creature wreaking havoc wherever she went? No, she only wreaked havoc in Percy’s life, and since she’d filed for divorce he supposed she wouldn’t be wreaking havoc too much longer. Besides, Godzilla was the good guy, and Sal wasn’t. Or was he? Percy realised with great satisfaction that Godzilla would turn on his allies without a second thought, meaning Sal and the great beast were exactly alike.

  The gathering at Norm’s had finished reasonably early. Percy wasn’t ready for his evening to end, so after finishing his water he opened the fridge and took out a bottle of Tiger beer. Cap removed, he pushed open the sliding glass door separating the dining room and back balcony, before sitting down outside to enjoy the peace. Though hot, the air felt soft, and with a sigh of satisfaction, Percy put his feet up on the small concrete-top table that he and Sal had got from a local manufacturer.

  They’d bought it much reduced in a sale, without noticing the sag in the middle, a depression filling with water every time it rained. There was water in it now, he observed, and so Percy made sure to keep his feet to one side. He would have to clear it off, and felt a little miffed that The Kraken hadn’t done it earlier. Some government department or another, known to Percy only as the Mozzie Police, had already ticked him off about standing water. They’d turned up unannounced, as was their directive, and gained access to the property by right. The two men easily spotted the pool of water, and began a fingertip search of all small spaces where water might collect. After the two had satisfied themselves that Percy’s table was the only offence, all three stood staring at the little pool, teeming with life; more specifically, heaving with mosquito larvae. The table was tipped
and the water poured off. After receiving friendly advice, Percy was issued with a warning. Sometime later, the inspectors returned to check that everything was still in order, which it was.

  But Percy always worried they would come back. As time trundled on, so it seemed to drag complacency with it, and increasingly the little pool was left full. It wasn’t that he wanted mosquitoes, far from it. Percy appreciated Singapore’s status as malaria-free thanks to previous efforts made. He also understood that the presence of dengue fever in its various forms was a real threat. Sal’s many lectures on all things Singapore had made this very clear. But the fact was, he couldn’t be bothered clearing the water after every downpour, because the storms came so frequently. And, he’d noticed, often the pooled water was displaced by heavy rain, in any case, which, he decided, meant the resulting puddle was fresh and therefore free from larvae.

  The table would have to go, he decided, not for the first time.

  He took a long slug of beer and thought about the evening at Norm’s. It was painful. Norm wrestling with the rules was bad enough, but watching him decide which cards to play was like watching a lump of meat choosing which shoes to wear. Still, Percy was forced to admit Norm’s persistence had to be admired. Eventually, even he, Percy, had stopped himself sighing in frustration and allowed Norm extra time. A few kicks under the table from Joyann had aided this decision, of course. Afterwards, Joyann had said that he’d been cruelly sarcastic the whole evening, but Percy couldn’t agree. For the occasional round, he’d even been encouraging, but then it wasn’t difficult to sound pleased when Norm actually managed to play something.

  By choosing to extend his evening, Percy had not intended to ponder anything other than the beer in his hand, nevertheless, as he sat and thought, so he found himself contemplating some of the others playing cards. There were five in total. Himself, Joyann, Norm, and two women that Norm seemed very keen for Percy to know.

  The younger one reminded him of Sal, for she clearly shared a love of surgery and Botox, having achieved the standard face of most women pursuing an extension of youth. Her name was Trudy, which jarred with Percy because this was the name of his mother, a practical woman whose idea of plastic surgery was nothing more extensive than using super glue to fix her frequent vegetable-knife cuts. She’d learned through a radio broadcast of its surgical origins and from then on fully embraced it. As far as Percy knew, she would have glued on her own severed arm, given half a chance.

  This Trudy – his Trudy – known as Gertrude only until she carried the influence of an adult, bore a bright and expressive face, a smiley woman who found humour in everything, including her son. Norm’s Trudy was not nearly the same. Her manner spoke of insecurity, and in messing about with her face she had achieved only that which others of her kind had also managed, a fixed expression that Percy felt could only ever be manmade: one of impassive shock.

  Trudy had looked at him a lot, Percy recalled. He’d caught her eye so many times he had stopped looking up. She had come across as a quiet sort of woman, but Percy wondered if in fact she simply struggled to communicate physically. To create a face not displaying any emotion, at least not without a good deal of cranking and groaning, seemed to be a kind of sabotage. Trudy was deliberately crippling her chances of ever being understood, which for Percy meant no one should pity her. However, she’d made one hell of a poker player, and thrashed every one of them hands down, including the older lady named Hester.

  Hester, for her part, had proven mildly entertaining but nothing more, and as Percy contemplated, so his mind moved on to one who was not playing cards. Verity.

  He’d been disappointed to find she wouldn’t be joining them, especially since she was not away but sitting inside the apartment. Norm said she was getting ready for a business trip and had some work to do. She hadn’t appeared at any point during the evening. It was a shame, because Percy felt he would have enjoyed a flash of those bright blue eyes.

  He finished his beer, and after tipping the table went to the fridge for another bottle before returning to his seat. He felt sweaty, and decided that once he’d finished he would head off for a cold shower and bed.