The Church of Lost Souls 23

It was barely four in the afternoon. I didn’t feel hungry at all and I didn’t want to go out.

I tried listening to Give ‘Em Enough Rope by The Clash and Forever Now by The Psychedelic Furs but that didn’t work, then I tried going to sleep but my head was too busy. I hadn’t had a bath since Hastings so I elected to have one with a cup of tea.

Feeling a little better I got out and toweled myself down. I changed into some fresh clothes and ate some eggs on toast, at which time I decided that I must seek out Sofia and find out her side to the story.

Just as I was about to go there was a loud knock at the door. Worried that it was the two idiots I waited in the hallway and after three more sets of loud rapping whoever it was gave up and went down the stairs.

I went shortly afterwards and walked towards the pensione. As I was going past the bus depot I heard a woman scream and turned to see a man running frantically with a handbag under his wing. A man stuck out a foot and the thief went tumbling into the black tarmac of the road, where he was joined by a group of men who wouldn’t let him go. The old woman hobbled over to collect her bag from one of the men, who then joined the others in beating the thief senseless.

No police were called. The matter was dealt with swiftly and the baying crowd dispersed, leaving the thief in a mess at the lip of the road to do what he may to improve. He didn’t get very far. A bus driver, who had been waiting to depart the depot and had seen the thief snatch the bag, pulled out from his spot, sneaked up on the thief and clipped him on the hip with a metal fender. That little clip caused the thief to stumble headfirst into a metal hoarding, which knocked him out.

People laughed at the spectacle as if it was a piece of theatre, which I suppose it was. No one went to see if he was alright so I waited where I was till he regained consciousness and then went on my way like everyone else.

Down the skinny street that led to the pensione a policeman seemed intent on turning around as we passed and it occured to me that I may already be known to the local plod.

When I got to Il Pezzentelle the landlady came out from her little cubby hole and we greeted each other. She asked how I was and what I’d been doing. Lavoro? Si. Ragazza? Si. And where was I staying? I told her about the flat and she whooped with joy.

I asked her if Sofia was in.

‘Chi?’ she said.

‘Sofia, Romanian girl, my age,’ I said.

‘Ah,’ she said, ‘si, girl say she stay then she call to say no stay. Si, Sofia.’

I thanked her, said goodbye and left, completely befuddled. If Sofia wasn’t staying there where was she? Had she decided against it to put distance between us now that the police were trying to pin the bones on me.

Back on the street I pondered over my prospects and decided that I must go over to the joke shop to see if Maria was there.

Taking position at the corner and watching out for the two idiots, who were nowhere to be seen, I quickly made my way over to the shop.

Almost diving in to avoid detection I found Maria, Sofia and Paolo dancing to The Beatles’ Tomorrow Never Comes at full volume. When they saw me they waved and carried on dancing, beckoning for me to join them, but I just couldn’t calm down.

‘Listen!’ I shouted over the music. ‘The police think I put the bones in the oven!’

Maria went to turn record off and then there was silence.

‘They think you did it?’ asked Sofia.

‘I think so,’ I said.

Paolo remonstrated that they hadn’t been given the impression that I was under suspicion in any way and Sofia confirmed this.

‘Why do they think it’s you?’ asked Maria.

‘Because no one else saw the man in the white coat,’ I said, looking to Paolo and Sofia. ‘You didn’t see him either, did you?’

They hadn’t.

‘Nor did anyone else in the entire place,’ I said. ‘The owner’s saying I made him up.’

‘That’s outrageous,’ said Sofia.

‘You’re damn right it is but that’s the reason they think I had something to do with the bones. I reckon I’m being fitted up.’

‘What’s fitted up?’ asked Maria.

‘It means to incriminate someone on a false charge,’ said Sofia with an air of authority. ‘Look, James, from what I know you came to us when you finished work that night and you expressed concern about the man and what he was cooking in the oven.’

‘Right,’ I said.

‘And when we went to see what was inside we couldn’t tell what it was so’

‘So you went and got them in the morning without telling me and then you took them to a hospital only to find out that they were from a child,’ I said.

I immediately regretted my words, which all but insinuated that had it not been for her and Paolo the police would have been none the wiser.

‘James,’ said Sofia. ‘You’re not suggesting that it’s our fault you’re in trouble, are you?’

‘Of course not,’ I said, ‘no, that’s not what I’m saying but..’

‘Let’s just have some time out for a minute, shall we?’ said Paolo.

Once I’d calmed down I told them what Ms Allegri had said to me and that she’d taken my passport for safekeeping.

‘That’s not good,’ said Sofia.

‘So why did the owner lie about the man in the white coat?’ asked Maria.

‘Probably because he was doing something very dodgy,’ I said. ‘If he’d got to the bones before you he’d have been home and dry.’

‘But surely he’d have got the man in the white coat to get them out,’ said Maria.

‘Maybe he had a nap and didn’t wake up till next day,’ said Paolo.

‘Or maybe they wanted us to find them,’ said Sofia.

‘Meaning?’ I asked, not wanting to know.

‘Meaning,’ she said, ‘if they’d planned this whole thing as a blessing, they’d have wanted to retrieve the bones at all costs. The bones may have been meant as symbols to ritualize but the fact is they wouldn’t have wanted them to go to the police unless’

‘Unless what?’ I asked.

‘Unless their prime goal was to implicate you.’

‘Well, they’ve done a bloody good job of that.’

After a brief silence, Paolo suggested we go and get a beer somewhere.

‘Can we go to an Irish bar?’ I said. ‘I really fancy a Guinness.’