Underbelly (19 page)

“
You’re a medium, not a prophet.”

“
That’s right, I’m a medium and I have been for 71 years. I could teach you so much. This isn’t a bribe, I’d have offered to help you anyway.”

“
I’m sure I could learn a lot from you, but I decline. Your friends died. It’s over.”

“
If you act you’re condemning my friends, decent men who are worth ten Overton’s.”

“
They’ve had their lives, Cecil. Conrad and Thomas haven’t.”

“
You’ve talked about bringing one of your friends back.” Grey was puzzled and this showed on his face and Cecil said, “Derek Hoon.”

“…
That’s different, not like this.”

“
So it’s acceptable to make the trade in a child’s body but not in an adult’s?”

“
I’m only considering it, I haven’t done it and this isn’t about Del. This is about Conrad Overton and Thomas Hepworth. You’ve wronged them – they might never get over this. If Conrad isn’t restored in his body he might never find peace, he might end up as a spirit who dwells forever on the spirit plane and if you’ve been a medium for as long as you say you’ll have met plenty like that and you’ll know what a cruel fate that is.”

“
You’ve already cost me Milton – I can’t save Conrad without losing my friend and I’m not prepared to do that. Unless you’re volunteering to take his place.”

“
No – you can’t right a wrong with another transgression. I don’t know much about you, Cecil, but because someone else has informed me that you have a very righteous past, I’m going to give you a chance to make amends. I’m not going to restore Conrad – I think you should do it.”

“
Your cruelty worries me. Evil mediums never prosper.”

“
I’ve heard that said before. I’m not saying it to be cruel.”

“
You’re asking me to play executioner with my best friend. I am prepared to compromise with you. Thomas Hepworth is unhinged, but I accept he is a better man than Conrad Overton, therefore I vow to leave him in peace. I’ll let Milton rest in peace, on the condition that you do not attempt to dislodge Reginald from Overton’s body. Otherwise, I have plenty of other friends I could bring back. Accept my truce. You don’t want to make an enemy of me, James. I might look a decrepit old man but if you take my friend away there will be consequences,” he threatened.

“
Why didn’t you just wait for death, old man?” Otilio said, thinking that he would have been reunited with his loved ones soon enough.

Cecil Winston turned to Otilio and spoke, in transfiguration, “Are you here to take my life, carnal? Still killing after all these years? They should have fucking crucified you for what you did to me, your own blood.” Otilio and Delgado recognised the voice, even the expressions suddenly reminiscent of Otilio’s cousin, Marlon.

Otilio was taken aback, visibly disturbed, and he said, penitently, “I wasn’t thinking straight, you know I loved you like a brother.”

“
Otilio, don’t,” Grey said and he said to Winston, disapprovingly, “What does that prove? Why do that just to mess with his head?”

Winston’s expressions and voice returned to normal as he said, “My point is that I am not the only one who has taken life. You two killed in war. I’m not condemning any of you; I’m just pointing out that circumstances make us do certain things. If you truly believe that things are only ever right or wrong then you should be at the door of one of your friends censuring her instead of here with me. REGINALD!” he shouted and Reginald came down the stairs uneasily and stood next to his friend.

“
Reginald, tell them all about your work at the shelters and the mission,” Winston said, and when Reginald struggled to talk of his achievements Winston boasted for him. The list of good deeds that Reginald had performed in life and since his rebirth was impressive, Winston also commending Reginald and Milton for not taking advantage of their young bodies to take advantage of young women. Grey could see that there was more to Reginald’s reticence than modesty; he felt guilt at occupying another man’s body.

“
You can carry on doing good until the year 2000 and you’ll still never balance the scales,” Grey said to Reginald. “Can you be happy living a life at another man’s expense?”

“
It’s on my head, Grey, not his,” Winston said crossly, his temper rising.

“
Agreed,” Grey said. A compromise would never be reached and he set to work restoring Conrad. Winston could see and feel what he was doing, both Grey and Reginald standing unsteadily as the process began, and he attacked Grey with his own considerable powers. Grey didn’t have the fortune of Thomas Hepworth but he was a medium and that would make him useful – at long last his brother would understand what it felt like. Grey felt Milton Winston’s consciousness, not his spirit, but his very being, overpowering him. He could see his childhood home in Somerset, his older brother and sister, their plump nanny and a sense of absent parents. The strict education at a prestigious school, followed by university, which was much more relaxed. A virgin bride, his brother as best man, then there was a war where he was an officer. The Boer War – he lost his right arm at the elbow, or was that his friend, the images and feelings not altogether clear to Grey who already felt weak after trying to restore Conrad. He doubted he’d succeeded and had to stop as he felt his own mind being driven out and tried to fight it, Winston so much more powerful than him, Agnes’ helpful voice driven out instantly. It was Milton’s arm that was lost, and then there was a daughter, a Suffragette, a Communist, a disappointment. They were swimming with friends, and his wife was dragged out, no body ever found. He went to America to his brother and his wife, and fell ill at the start of the Depression and they kept him at their home with hired medical staff caring for him until…His first death, Grey causing his second, and now he would have his ‘killer’s’ body.

Grey heard a woman crying hysterically, even louder than he was hyperventilating, the only person in the room standing up. Milton was gone and Grey saw why, as he saw Delgado examining Cecil Winston’s body. When Winston had attacked Grey and caused his collapse, Delgado and Otilio had advanced on him. Delgado reluctantly placed his hands on Winston, gripping him by his lapels and threatening him. Delgado found this unwholesome but necessary to divert Winston’s attentions and give Grey a fighting chance – none of them were going to punch an old man, but this once he could use a negative stereotype in his favour, for he knew that both Otilio and himself were imposing, fearsome figures to white high society. This threat, coupled with the strain Winston experienced through Grey’s considerable resistance induced a fatal heart attack, his body far weaker than his mind. Otilio was now crouched with Grey, asking him again and again if he was all right, which Grey found a little annoying and he understood why Thomas had snapped at him when he did the same. Conrad (?) had fallen to the floor from the strain of Grey’s attempt at dislodgement. Was it successful, Grey wondered, trying to catch his eye to find out.

The maid, drawn to the commotion, fled the room, and, from the sound of it, the house. Grey eventually answered Otilio’s questions, telling him he was fine, and he said, “Conrad, how are you doing, pal?”

Conrad had still not looked at him and Grey saw that his sad eyes were fixated on Cecil Winston’s lifeless body. Agnes was gone – had he learned enough from her to attempt the restoration on his own?

“
I’m sorry, Reginald,” Grey said, finding it harder to expel him than Milton from Thomas after hearing so much about him and building a picture of the man, a decent, generous human being.

“
Do it,” he said, his consent making it even more painful for Grey. It didn’t prove as physically painful as the first time, possibly because his brain felt like mush, almost completely numb, and it took several minutes before Grey could make it happen, five attempts failing. He intended to search for Reginald, Milton and Cecil Winston to help them find peace, but that would have to wait. It was imperative that they left the manor, the maid likely believing she’d witnessed a murder and probably going to nearby properties for assistance.

As soon as Conrad was restored to his own body he looked around the room quizzically, examining everyone before he looked at Grey, like him lying on the floor feeling drained, and he said, “You must be Grey, right?”

“
You can remember?”

“
Fuck, yes. You’ve rescued me from hell and you’ll get rewarded for this. You don’t look like I’d expected,” he said, his meaning unclear.

“
Are you able to walk, because we need to get out of here?”

“
I don’t know. I think it’s going to take some getting used to, being real again.” He attempted to stand up, having to use a table for support, and both he and Grey were assisted to the car, which was empty. Grey insisted that they look for Thomas Hepworth and Delgado told him that he would look for him with Otilio and they left Grey and Conrad in the car.

While they waited Conrad said to Grey, “You’ve hit the jackpot here, Grey. Tell me what you want and you’ll get it.”

“
I didn’t do it for a reward. I restored you because it was the right thing to do,” Grey said, feeling that a reward would cheapen his actions. “I couldn’t have done it without Isdel and Otilio, and someone else helped too.”

“
You’ve said that you were taking your wife across the States and that you didn’t have much cash – let me help.”

“
Your gratitude is payment enough,” Grey said sincerely.

Conrad felt that for the risks he’d taken to save him his thanks weren’t nearly enough and he was determined to pay him whether he would accept it or not, partly because he wanted to make him prosperous after what he’d done and also because it would remove the debt that he owed him. Delgado and Otilio came back to the car without Thomas, Delgado explaining that his car was gone from the gates and that he must have driven off. Grey was concerned about him and Delgado reassured him that he would likely drive back to wherever he felt safe and return to his normal life.

“
I can find out that he’s all right,” Conrad offered as Delgado drove them out of the grounds. Grey asked him to do that to repay him and they drove Conrad to Los Angeles at his request.

On the way to Los Angeles Grey had an epiphany that made his blood run cold. Conrad was sleeping, exhausted from his ordeal and Grey sat beside him in the back as they travelled and he asked Delgado and Otilio, “How did the maid sound when she asked you if you wanted any drinks?”

“
Nervy,” Otilio said.

Grey had been paying attention to Winston, talking to him, and had barely heard her voice, but what he had heard sounded aristocratic. “Did her voice sound posh?”

“
Very posh,” Delgado said. “English too,” he said, starting to see what Grey was suggesting.

“
That chica was not English,” Otilio said.

“
She could be English, posh and of Spanish origin,” Grey said. It sounded possible, but his instincts told him that he was fooling himself.

“
Some of us do have money, Jimmy, yeah, but those that do don’t end up working as maids,” Delgado said. “Who do you think she is then, his wife or sister?”

“
If she was his wife he wouldn’t have made her dress up like that,” Grey replied. Hearing the words said aloud made him realise how ridiculous his statement was, the maid’s outfit the sort of clothes he’d like to see his own wife in (privately).

“
If my woman had a body like that I’d make her wear that outfit all the time. Just because the guy was decrepit doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like nice things to look at,” Otilio said.

The hairs on Grey’s arms stood up as he realised something. “The last week, since we visited him, I’ve had a female voice talking to me in Spanish. Shit, I think I’ve messed up.”

“
What was she saying?” Delgado said softly, trying to calm him down.

“
I don’t know. I just…I wanted to deal with Winston first and then I was going to get back to her. She’s gone now. Fucking hell!” Grey shouted, contorting his face angrily in fury, wanting to hurt himself for his error.

“
You did what you could,” Delgado said supportively.