Hailstone Page 3

  She rolled out of bed, stumbled to the door and found it unlocked. John was home, then. She hurried to the bathroom and threw up in the sink. She felt better after that; she cleaned down the sink and drank water out of the tap. Then she went back into her room and changed, since she’d slept in Adam’s dress. She hid the dress and the boots in the back of her closet and put on a nice conservative skirt and blouse that would make Preacher happy. She searched through a box hidden in the very back of the closet until she found a zip-lock bag with three pills left in it. She took one back to the bathroom and swallowed it with water from the tap. Then she brushed her hair, washed the last traces of makeup off and composed her face into a suitably penitent expression. She rubbed at the new bruise Preacher had left as though she could make it disappear.

  Who was she kidding? She was too hungover to care either way. She needed coffee, and if John was home, then she didn’t dare get out her secret stash of the stuff.

  Magda sighed and made her way out to the kitchen. She paused at the door. John and Preacher stopped in their conversation and looked at her.

  Magda took a deep breath. “Good morning Preacher, good morning John,” she said. She put the kettle on and prepared all three of them cups of chamomile tea, the only hot drink Preacher sanctioned.

  Neither responded to her greeting. Rude bastards. They just watched her prepare the tea. Only when she set the cups before them and sat at the table did Preacher speak.

  “Well Magdalene, you’re very lucky. Amanda waited for you all evening, and was a little upset when you didn’t keep your appointment. But I’ve managed to convince her to come back, since you are so desperately in need of her guidance.”

  “Amanda?” Magda looked at him blankly.

  “We spoke about this yesterday.” Preacher’s tone was impatient, but Magda was so used to that she barely noticed. “Amanda does counselling work with young people who have problems with alcohol and drugs. And don’t you dare to argue with me this time, after last night’s performance.”

  Magda wrapped her fingers around her hot cup and kept her eyes on the steam. “Yes Preacher.”

  “Your husband and I have business to attend to. We’ll leave you with Amanda.”

  “She’s here already?”

  “She’s in the lounge room. She wanted time to pray before you woke.” Preacher leaned across the table and eyeballed her. It wasn’t a pretty sight this early in the morning, especially when she was this hungover. His eyes were pale brown and bloodshot. His breath smelled sour. “You do exactly as she tells you. If I have anything but a glowing report from her at the end of the day, there’ll be a punishment.”

  Magda curled her fists under the table.

  “Understand?”

  “I understand, Preacher,” she said through clenched teeth and a fake smile.

  “I don’t think you do, but I have every confidence Amanda will straighten you out.” Preacher got out of his chair. “John. Time to go.”

  Magda watched them go. John didn’t as much as look at her. Some husband he’d turned out to be.

  When the door closed, she dropped their tea cups into the sink. Then she went into the pantry and reached to the back of the highest shelf for the coffee. She made it strong and added a dash of the vodka she kept hidden in a bottle with a very innocent label claiming to be rosewater. She wondered if she should tell Adam she was Hells Bells Vodka’s best customer. If she ever saw him again.

  By the time her coffee cup was empty, she felt ready to face Amanda. She wondered how she was going to get rid of her; she couldn’t stomach pretending to cooperate, not today.

  She crossed the hall and opened the lounge room door a crack to look in. Amanda was younger than she’d expected, maybe even her own age. She had a fringe and dusty blonde pigtails. Pigtails. No wonder Preacher liked her. He liked to infantilise women. She was sitting in an easy chair, wearing a mid-calf length green skirt and a white shirt with a big collar, just like women in the Congregation were supposed to. She had a cross around her neck. She didn’t compare favourably with Kat at all.

  Magda pushed open the door and stood in the entrance.

  “Well, good morning!” Amanda stood up and came over to her. “I’m so thrilled to meet you at last, Magdalene. Please, come in and sit down.” She took her hand and shook it feverishly.

  Oh God. She was perky.

  Magda reclaimed her hand. She went and sat on the couch and studied her nails.

  Amanda returned to her seat. “We’re going to have so much fun together today, Magdalene. You’ll see it’s possible to be happy without alcohol in your life, and together we’ll learn some things as well!”

  “Please, call me Magda.” Magda settled back into the couch.

  Amanda looked surprised. “Magdalene is such a beautiful name, why would you want to shorten it?”

  Magda didn’t answer her. She maintained her skeptical stare; Amanda squirmed.

  Preacher wouldn’t be back all day. Maybe Amanda was right. Maybe they could have some fun.

  “Amanda would you like a coffee?” she asked.

  “Coffee is a drug, Magdalene.” Amanda looked earnest. “Caffeine does terrible things to the body, and it is my belief that Jesus does not want us to harm the bodies He gave us.”

  “Tea?”

  Amanda shook her head and pursed her lips. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

  “Doing what?” Magda summoned up her most innocent look. “Chamomile tea?”

  “That would be lovely.” Amanda looked relieved.

  “Great.” Magda pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of her skirt and lit it up.

  Amanda stared. “Uh-”

  Magda exhaled into the closed room and ashed on a pot plant. “I’ll be right back with your chamomile tea. Just wait here. Don’t touch anything, I just cleaned last week.” She wandered out of the room and locked herself in the kitchen. Yes, she was definitely starting to feel better.

  She boiled the kettle and made herself a second coffee, and Amanda a chamomile tea. She poured a liberal dose of vodka into both cups and took a large swig from the bottle as she went.

  She had another stash of pills hidden in the back of the cutlery drawer. She crushed one into powder using the back of a knife and sprinkled that into Amanda’s drink for good measure. That would loosen her up some. All of Preacher’s friends were so uptight.

  Magda hummed to herself, took another swig of vodka and replaced the bottle in the pantry. Then she put out her cigarette, hid the butt in the bin, opened the windows to let the smell out and sprayed some air freshener in the room. She’d deal with the lounge later. She took the two cups back out to rejoin Amanda.

  Amanda looked discomforted and sad. She’d opened the windows to let the smell of Magda’s cigarette out. “I’ve been praying for you while you were gone,” she said.

  “Gosh, thank you.” Magda set Amanda’s cup down and settled back on the lounge with her coffee.

  Amanda’s voice quivered. “Magdalene I honestly believe your situation is already far worse than even Preacher imagines.”

  “Damn straight.” Magda sipped her coffee.

  “You cursed!” Amanda looked like she was going to cry.

  “It was only a little one. It’s not like I said fuck.”

  Amanda’s face turned bright red. “You’re winding me up.”

  “Shouldn’t you be used to that, doing what you do?”

  Amanda took a sip of her tea. “Gosh, that’s a nice tea.”

  Magda smiled.

  Amanda set the tea down and came over to her. She knelt on the floor and grasped Magda’s hands. “Magdalene, God is telling me we need to cut straight to the heart of your problems. No more games. You have to face the fact you are addicted.”

  “God talks to you?” Magda moved away from her. “What does he say?”

  Amanda closed her eyes. “God is telling me you are hurting and you desperately need help.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty accurate.”
Magda took a sip of her coffee. “Is God telling you I wouldn’t need to drink if Preacher would stop hitting me?”

  Amanda opened her eyes. “Now Magda, why would you say that? Preacher is a lovely man. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “What do you think this is?” Magda pointed to the bruise on her face.

  “He said you fell over last night because you were so drunk. Please Magdalene, we need to be honest with each other if we’re going to get anywhere.” A tear slid down Amanda’s cheek. “It hurts me you would lie to get my sympathy.”

  Magda clenched her coffee cup hard. She took a large swallow to keep herself from punching Amanda. The liquid burned her throat. She spoke through clenched teeth. “Do sit down, Amanda, and drink your tea. You’ll strain something getting so upset. Besides, I’m absolutely dying to see how you’re going to cure me.”

  Amanda retreated to the opposite corner of the room. “Dying is just one part of what could happen to you,” she said. She opened her bag and withdrew a large folder. “I’d like you to have a look at some facts and figures, Magdalene. You might be shocked to see to just what extent cigarettes and alcohol are damaging you, the environment, the world and most of all God’s ministry. But first, let’s pray together.” She took a sip of her tea. Then she took several more. She bowed her head and closed her eyes.

  Magda watched her moisten her lips and spout off a stream of nonsense that she’d probably heard Preacher say in church last week. God damn. Despite her best efforts, things just kept getting boring with Amanda.

  Five minutes later, with Amanda still praying, Magda left the room. She locked herself in the kitchen again and sat in the middle of the table nursing her vodka bottle and a cigarette. A good deal of vodka disappeared in the short time before Amanda knocked at the door, but that was okay, because she had another bottle under the sink. Surely Amanda should be feeling the effects of the valium by now.

  “Magdalene? Are you okay in there? Are you smoking?”

  Magda drained the bottle. She swung her legs off the table, swayed a little and put the bottle in the sink. Then she went to unlock the door and let Amanda in.

  Amanda gave her a sad, albeit slightly glazed look. “Magda sweetheart, your father is paying me for today and he wants a full report. Don’t make me tell him you wouldn’t...ah...” she blinked. “What was I saying?”

  Magda took her by the hand, pulled her into the room and locked the door behind her. “I honestly couldn’t give a damn, so long as you’ve finished praying.”

  Amanda flushed. “You really are very difficult.”

  “And you’re pretty when you’re angry. Come sit with me.” Magda returned to her perch on the kitchen table.

  Amanda looked confused. “I feel weird.”

  “Come sit here. I’ll make you feel better.” Magda patted the table in front of her.

  “We shouldn’t be doing it like this.” Amanda climbed onto the table and sat in front of her, cross-legged. Their knees almost touched.

  “Is there a better way?” Magda leaned forward. “Do you want to know why I really smoke and drink?”

  “Yes I do. Tell me.” Amanda leaned forward too. Her eyes went wide like she thought she was finally about to make a breakthrough.

  Magda grinned at the view. “Well now you’re just trying to distract me.”

  “What?” Amanda followed her gaze down to her own cleavage. Aghast, she pulled her top up higher. With admirable dignity, she got back on track. “Why do you smoke and drink?”

  “Because I can.” Magda bit the last word off so close to Amanda’s mouth she could smell the alcohol on the other woman’s breath. “It’s my choice, Amanda. Do you know what that word means, choice? To do something of your own free will? Did you ever think about trying cigarettes or alcohol?”

  Amanda pursed her lips. “Jesus wouldn’t want that for me.”

  “Do you honestly think Jesus would get that upset if you smoked one cigarette? Just to find out what it is exactly you’re helping people like me to fight? Do you have the guts to do that?”

  A slick of sweat gleamed on Amanda’s face. “My, it’s hot in here.” She fanned herself with one hand. “I do feel odd.”

  Magda took a cigarette from her packet. “Do you feel a little dizzy?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Smoke this with me. It’ll make you feel better. Honestly it will. I won’t tell a soul, it’ll be our secret. And you’ll walk away today with another weapon in your Godly arsenal, that of knowing your enemy.” Magda lit the cigarette and put it in Amanda’s mouth. “There we are. Breathe it in. Not too much, or you’ll cough. There we go.”

  Amanda made a face. “That’s disgusting.”

  “Of course it is, you’re not used to it. Here, have another drag. God won’t let you get addicted, I promise.”

  “Okay.” Amanda looked dubious. She took a second drag. “Gosh, my head is spinning, but in a good way.”

  “You’re doing so well.” Magda slid off the table and fetched the vodka from under the sink. “Now have some of this. After all, you have two enemies, right? You should get to know them both.”

  Amanda didn’t need much more prompting to take a healthy swig of vodka. She shuddered. “That burns!”

  “Yes, it’ll warm you right up. Here, have some more.”

  Amanda took another drink, then another drag of the cigarette. She started to giggle. “Did you know that your kitchen is really, really yellow?”

  “I know.” Magda lit her own cigarette, since Amanda wasn’t giving back the other one. “John picked it. He has terrible taste.”

  “Maybe he likes eggs.”

  Amanda’s statement made Magda giggle. Within moments both women were convulsed with laughter.

  Amanda took a deep breath. “You know, I really do thank you for this opportunity, Magda – is that a kind of car?”

  “I’m not a car. Call me Mags. Drink?”

  Amanda swallowed more vodka.

  “Come on,” Magda said. She slid off the table and collected her camera from the sideboard. “Let’s get back to the lounge room. You can finish curing me.”

  *

  Amanda, lying on the floor, giggling.

  click

  Amanda emptying the cooking brandy down her throat.

  click

  Amanda smoking cigarettes.

  click

  Maybe Amanda wasn't so bad after all. Magda lay down beside her new best friend.

  "Amanda."

  Amanda turned her head to look at Magda. "Do you know you're really beautiful? But your walls keep moving. You might need a new house."

  "Do you think so?" Magda moved closer; her mouth hovered a bare inch away from Amanda's. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

  Amanda looked at her very seriously. "Yes, I do. Beautiful like God."

  "Then kiss me."

  Amanda closed the distance between their mouths without hesitation. She moved her warm, slightly wet lips over Magda’s with more experience than she’d expected of a church-going virgin.

  Magda lifted the camera up above their heads with one hand.

  Click.

  Amanda's eyes rolled back in her head. She passed out.

  *

  The day hadn’t been a dead loss after all; Amanda was more fun than she looked. Magda hummed to herself. She floated about the house clearing away all evidence of cigarettes and alcohol. She drank some water and ate some fruit to sober up. She wanted to have some kind of control when Preacher arrived to take Amanda’s report. She printed out the photos of Amanda from the computer and put them in a nice neat folder. She opened all the windows and sprayed air freshener all through the house to rid it of the cigarette smell. She washed up and hid the two empty bottles. Then she went back to Amanda with some water, an aspirin and the folder clenched under one arm.

  Amanda snored on the lounge room floor.

  “Amanda.” Magda nudged her with her foot. “Wake up.”

  Amanda groaned in pro
test.

  “Preacher will be here in about ten minutes darling, you really should wake up.”

  Amanda opened her eyes and blinked. “What happened? I feel weird.”

  “You’re still drunk. Here, take this.”

  Amanda sat up and rubbed her head. “What? I don’t understand.” She took the water and the aspirin and swallowed both. She looked around herself. A frown settled on her face. “Drunk?”

  “Yes. If I were you I’d go clean my teeth, your breath reeks. Use John’s toothbrush, not mine.”

  Amanda’s eyes widened. “You put something in my tea!”

  “You sculled half my vodka of your own free will. It was fun. Here, check out these.” Magda handed her the folder. “I have copies hidden away,” she added. “So many I could paste them all over the church notice board next Sunday if I felt like it.”

  Amanda went white, then bright red. “What is this?”

  Magda leaned over her shoulder to look. “You kissing me. Gosh, that’s a bit gay, isn’t it? You could get in terrible trouble.” She took the photos back. “I bet Preacher would be really mad.”

  "I have to make a full report to your father," Amanda reminded her in a shaky voice.

  Magda tapped her on the nose. "And you will. You'll tell him I've turned my life around. I’ve sworn to God to renounce cigarettes and alcohol with all my heart and I don't need any further counselling. In fact, you’ve never had such a big success as me.”

  Amanda gasped. "You're blackmailing me!"

  “Yes, it’s very exciting, isn’t it?”

  "And you're enjoying it! You really are a daughter of Satan!"

  Magda shrugged. "You'd be surprised how many times I've thought that myself."

  "I'll tell Preacher everything.”

  "I'll tell Preacher you corrupted me with alcohol and lust, and I couldn't do anything but take photos to prove it," Magda shot back. "He'll destroy you and your little quit smoking club like Satan with a bottle of gin in a dormitory full of Catholic schoolgirls." She leaned forward. “He’ll probably want to do an exorcism.”

  Amanda straightened her clothes, picked up her strewn books and folders and headed for the door rather too fast for dignity. "I'm going to pray for you," she said over her shoulder.