Fallen Gods

Thirty-Nine

"This man," exclaimed Andrea Strachan. "You say he knows me?"

Stevie Steele nodded. "He was at university at the same time as you."

"What's his name?"

"I can't tell you that, I'm afraid."

"Why? Because I might fall at his feet and worship him?"

Steele glanced across to the passenger seat, saw her smile, and laughed out loud.

"No. It wouldn't be like you to worship a false god. Idolatry's forbidden, remember."

"Could I forget?" she exclaimed. "That's one of the many things my father's drummed into me over the years."

"How do you get on with your father?" Stevie asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smile flicker again. "What is this? Am I still being interrogated?"

"Nah," he said, 'that's all over. It was an idle question, that's all.

Well, almost idle. Here I am picking you up from hospital, and I'm taking you home, when I might be taking you to your parents."

"Just in case I harmed myself, you mean?"

"No! Oh, Christ, Steele, shut up. Mouth open, foot straight in. I think just driving would be a good idea."

"Maybe, but I'll let you off the hook. And I'll overlook the Name you just took in vain. After my crisis, I thought, and Adam agreed, that it would be better for me not to go back to that atmosphere. My father holds highly orthodox views, which he never ceases to proclaim, and we felt that given the nature of my illness, it would be easier if I wasn't exposed to them. It's worked out all right, too."

He looked across at her again. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he saw that she was wearing lipstick and eye make-up. Yes, pretty; very definitely attractive. "Adam recommended that I wear make-up; to let my real personality out, he said. His diagnosis was that in my schizophrenia, my other side had taken me over completely."

Her smile became dazzling. "Of course, there is the possibility that this is the real nutter you're looking at now."

"If it is, it suits me fine." The words were out before he had time to consider them.

"Thank you, sir."

He looked at the road ahead. "Can I ask you something else, Andrea?"

"Within reason."

"When we saw you on the video tapes, and when we began our talk yesterday, you looked… different. Why was that?"

She took a deep breath. "Because I'd stopped taking my medication. When I got that call last Friday, it just did my head in. You know what I mean? I just screamed inside; I thought that it had all been a sham, that I wasn't cured, or under control at all, and that the medicine was all useless. So I stopped taking it. What you saw was what happened as a result."

Andrea looked across at him. "How does that make you feel, Steven?" she asked. "It makes me feel like a bit of a cripple still."

He felt himself frown. "It makes me angry, Andrea, that's how it makes me feel. For the guy who called you did so knowing what it could do to you. That's one of the most evil things I've ever come across. He won't be doing it again. Not if I can help it."

"Nor if I can. I'll try to make myself remember from now on; God does not use the phone."