The Rapture by Claire McGlasson

Author:Claire McGlasson [Claire McGlasson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780571345205
Publisher: Faber & Faber
Published: 2019-07-18T16:00:00+00:00

‘Did I look nervous?’ Grace asks me.

‘No, not at all. You were marvellous.’ I have stayed behind in chapel to help her tidy away the last of the cake and the napkins. She called them serviettes but Octavia didn’t hear her, so no harm done.

‘I remembered all my lines. That’s something, I suppose.’

She kneels down to sweep up the crumbs that have fallen to the floor. I want to touch the top of her head like Octavia did. ‘I’m afraid your moment was rather overshadowed by Her news,’ I say.

‘Yes, the famous ghost-hunter. I’d never heard of him. Had you?’

‘Yes. Years ago Octavia began to take a keen interest in the paranormal. She was quite a fan of his for a time. He exposed a few spiritualists who were conning the vulnerable. One medium swore she was spouting ectoplasm. Turns out she had filled her mouth with bandages soaked in egg white.’ I look at her and shrug. ‘Gives the same effect apparently.’

She sweeps the last of the crumbs and gets back to her feet. ‘But Octavia believes in ghosts, doesn’t She?’

‘In the spirits of Heaven and Hell,’ I say. ‘Because they are real. But there are plenty of crooks who will prey on grief with lies. And plenty of widows and mothers only too ready to believe them.’

‘The war has provided a plentiful supply,’ she says.

‘Precisely. But Octavia admired the fact that Harry Price seemed to know the difference.’

She steps out of the chapel door and shakes the crumbs away into the breeze.

‘So,’ I say, when she returns, ‘you are officially a Panacean now. How do you intend to spend your wedding night?’

She looks up and meets my eyes. I think I have made her blush. ‘I have no plans. Why?’

‘Well, I think that we should mark the occasion. How about a cigarette?’ I can tell she wasn’t expecting that. It’s what I wanted. To surprise her. To have the power to do it. To have the strength. ‘Consider these a wedding gift,’ I say, peeking a pack out of the pocket in my skirt. Before Grace came, everything was black and white, there was only what Octavia approved of, and what She didn’t. But now the boundary has been blurred, smudged like red lipstick. As soon as you cross the line you’ve got your back to it and you cannot see how far you’ve gone.

‘Dilys!’ She tries to purse her lips in affected disapproval, but her impersonation of Emily is sabotaged by a broad smile.

‘Octavia asked me to post out the letters for the healing so I ran a little errand of my own.’ I have been hiding the packet in the box at the back of my wardrobe, taking it out, slipping a single cigarette from the rest, holding it between my fingers, bringing it to my lips.

‘Come on.’ I take her hand and lead her to the room at the back of the chapel, and as I hold back the curtain I think of the night of the strike.

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