Nightside 09 - Just Another Judgement Day

course, everything had to stop while I stood up and took off my coat, and handed it over to Sharon to be cleaned. She accepted the coat with a brisk, flashing smile, held it carefully between finger and thumb, and darted out of the room. I sat down again. I could have warned her about the coat’s built-in defences, but I had a feeling Sharon could look after herself. Just as the coat could. And, in fact, Sharon was back almost immediately, without the coat, clearly not wanting to be left out of anything. She settled herself on the arm of the vicar’s chair, one arm draped across Tamsin’s shoulders.
    Tamsin MacReady made a big deal out of serving us all tea and biscuits, from a silver tray that I would have sworn wasn’t there on the table a moment ago. The tea service was delicate bone china, and I handled the cup carefully with my little finger extended, to show I wasn’t a complete barbarian. Chandra insisted on pouring the tea, putting the milk in first and frowning at me when I added more than one teaspoon of sugar. I waited patiently until everyone was settled again, then addressed the vicar while Chandra chomped happily on a mouthful of biscuits.
    “Why are you here, vicar?” I said bluntly. I was finding pretending to be civilised very wearing, especially when the clock was ticking its way down to another massacre.
    “People need me,” said Tamsin, quite equably. “I choose to live here, amongst the lowest and worst of human kind, because they need me the most. People tend to forget that our Lord came down to earth to live among sinners because they needed him most. And since most of them can’t or won’t come to me, I must go out amongst them.”
    “Isn’t that dangerous?” said Chandra.
    “Oh no,” said Tamsin. “Not while I’ve got Sharon.”
    Sharon wriggled happily on the arm of the chair, and the vicar patted her arm companionably.
    “She’s my partner. All gals together, ever since school. Inseparable, really, though I often fear Sharon hasn’t got a truly Christian bone in her entire delightful body. Have you, dear?”
    “I’ll believe whatever you believe, Tamsy,” Sharon said doughtily. “And Heaven help anyone who tries to hurt you while I’m around, that’s what I say.”
    “Sharon is my body-guard,” Tamsin said fondly. “She is so much more than she seems.”
    She’d have to be, I thought, but had the good sense not to say so out loud.
    “I bear the word of the Lord to those who need it most,” said the vicar. “I listen, offer advice and comfort where I can, and if I can lead just one sinner back into the light, then my time here will have been well spent. Though of course I hope to save rather more than that. Still, I am a missionary, not a crusader. The way of the sword is not mine.”
    “It is mine,” said Sharon. “Though I don’t usually limit myself to a sword.”
    “Not much like your predecessor, then,” I said. “Pew always saw himself as a holy terrorist, fighting the good fight by any and all means necessary.”
    “Dear Pew,” said Tamsin. “He is sorely missed.”
    “He was my teacher, for a time,” I said. “Before he decided I was an abomination.”
    “I know,” said Tamsin. “I’ve read his diaries from that period. He had great hopes for you, for a time.”
    I raised an eyebrow despite myself. “I didn’t know Pew left any diaries.”
    “Oh yes. Fascinating reading. He wrote quite a lot about you. Before he gave away his eyes, in return for knowledge. About you. Do have another biscuit, John, that’s what they’re there for.”
    “I don’t have time for distractions,” I said bluntly. “What can you tell me about the Walking Man?”
    Tamsin and Sharon shared a look. “We heard he was here, at last,” said Tamsin. “It’s said . . . he talks directly with God, who talks directly with him.” She looked directly at Chandra. “I understand you are a khalsa, Mr. Singh. A holy warrior. What brings you here, to the Nightside? At this time in particular? Did you know the Walking Man was going to be here?”
    “Like you, I go where I am needed,” said Chandra. “My life is a holy quest, for purpose and meaning, in the service of my god.”
    “Have you ever tried looking for your god on the Street of the Gods?” said Tamsin.
    “No,” said Chandra. “Have you?”
    They both laughed, politely. A new subtle tension had entered the Vicarage parlour. It was getting in the way, so I intervened.
    “The Beings on the