(aka Bike, est. 2007)
Copyright© 2017 Angharad
“Am I under arrest?”
“No, of course not.”
“Am I being charged with anything?”
“But you are detaining me?”
“Ye—no, I’m trying to get my head round something which is just not computing. I know you’re not telling me the whole truth, but I suspect that isn’t because you’re trying to obstruct a police investigation, is it?”
I shrugged and wondered if I should tell him a bit more but it wasn’t my decision really, it was up to the goddess herself and she wasn’t telling me anything.
“Please, I need to know, however crazy it seems—none of this being recorded, so you can always deny it later. I don’t doubt they meant to kill you, the pot of stuff in the car is being analysed as we speak. I suspect it’s pretty toxic but somehow it didn’t kill you. You’re something special aren’t you?”
I felt myself become rather strange, I was still sitting in his office and he was still sitting in front of me, but it was all becoming rather distant.
“Catherine is very special, Inspector, which is why we have chosen her.”
“Hang on, who are you?”
“We have many names, Inspector, some more flattering than others, our name is Shekinah but you will know us as the goddess.”
“How come you picked someone who is outspoken as a non-believer, so much so that this group of idiots tried to kill her?”
“Life has its ironies, Inspector; she does not believe in a conscious way but she realises things happen which she cannot understand with her primitive science.”
“So why don’t you make her believe, if you’re a goddess?”
“One of the few things you mortals have is the choice to believe or not in the world beyond your own. She chooses not to believe, though she has seen enough to know she is wrong—it is, however, not something we press upon her, she must choose to believe in her own time.”
“How do I know this isn’t just a case of multiple personality disorder, this goddess personality being one of many happening in her head?”
“We do not normally appear to persons of the male sex.”
“But I’m not in that role now, I’m acting as an officer of the law.”
“We do not operate under your petty laws, we are the law.”
“I’m sorry about your goddess-ship, but that’s all I have to operate in.”
“You may regret this.”
“I’m sure I’ll live with it...”
It felt like hours later though it was probably only minutes but when I returned to the present time sitting opposite me was a very shocked looking DI Patchworth. I looked at him and he was obviously miles away.
“Ahem, are you all right, Inspector?”
His eyes focused on me but it took a moment to register. “I saw it.”
“It—you know—the angel thing.”
“You thought you did.”
“I know what I saw—it was tall and emitted this golden light.”
“Yeah, sure it did.”
“I know what I saw—how did you summon it?”
“I didn’t do anything, I just sort of went off in a trance.”
“Should I go and see someone about it?”
“What a psychiatrist?
“No a vicar or something.”
“So they’ll know—about the goddess.”
“I—er wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Why not? I saw her.”
“Consider yourself fortunate, she doesn’t normally appear to men and when she does they tend to go a bit loopy.”
“Like that Judy woman in custody?”
“Something like that.”
“Why is she scared, it was awesome?”
“I think awesome originally meant in awe of something, which usually means a fear.”
“Plus of course you weren’t threatening one of her handmaidens—assuming goddesses actually have hands.”
“She did. Is Jesus real?”
“I think she predates the New Testament by a few thousand years.”
“Oh—maybe I should have asked her.”
“I suspect for those who believe in him, Jesus is very real.”
“Yeah, I suppose so—but you’re not one of them.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“What do I do with this case?”
The phone rang and we both jumped. He answered it and shook his head. “The pot only contained water—tap water.”
“So you can let her go then?”
“Yeah, what about the angel—frightening her?”
“I think she’ll find providing she doesn’t try to force her views upon anyone else, it will leave her in peace.”
“You control it, don’t you?”
“I don’t think you quite understand how it works.” Mind you, neither do I but I certainly don’t control it or her.
“She said you don’t believe, yet you’re one of its agents?”
“So she said. I didn’t.”
“You said you were a handmaiden.”
“In a theoretical sense—the whole thing is total nonsense to a scientific mind.”
“You’re as bad as that Dawkins fellow.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment—but Inspector, I have a million things to do, thanks for the tea and the chat. Word of advice, try and imagine you dreamt all this, it makes more sense.”
“I can’t believe I saw it.”
“Perhaps it was something in your tea—good day, Inspector.” I left before he could say anything else, he was still staring up at the wall behind me.
An officer called to see me the next day to say they had released my would-be killer as they had no evidence to hold her and that DI Patchworth had gone sick with stress. I thought we were supposed to be the weaker sex—yeah right.
The girls were pleased to see me but were worried that I was so late coming home. I told them that I had to see the police. They accepted my explanation without need for further details, which was good, though they seem to accept gods and goddesses without too much bother, unlike me. They don’t fit my map of the universe, so I see them as being some sort of hallucination—which was what the Inspector saw, but he was gullible enough to believe his own eyes—they can deceive.
It was the last day of term and I’d forgotten, apparently Danielle hadn’t and spoke to David about taking treats to school—seems they conspired to outdo anyone else. She didn’t tell me this, it was David who was bragging about making smoked salmon quiche and vol-au-vents. I stopped listening, I was too concerned that Danielle was flaunting our lifestyle to others who may be poorer—of course they’re poorer, Simon is one of the richest men in Europe, let alone Britain. I was thinking that I might need a word in her ear when David asked me not to tell her that he’d told me—as much of it was his idea. He was now lying to protect her. I would speak to her but not today and not directly about the classroom parties, instead I’m sure I’ll find an opportunity to let her know how I expect her to behave—after all, neither Simon nor I flaunt our wealth—it just isn’t cricket.
I made David and me a cuppa and then asked him what was for dinner. Smoked salmon apparently he’d bought a job lot of it—I asked for some with scrambled eggs on toast. He nodded and said, “Good call.”
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