Stealing God by James Green Read Free Book Online

to you, Minister. If, having received the inspector’s considered opinion of the Englishman’s suitability, you have decided to accept his advice and dispense with him then you have made your decision. It would be presumptuous in the extreme for me to try and persuade you to alter it. That being the case I will convey your decision to …’
    The minister jerked to life, splashing a small amount of warmish champagne from his glass onto one of his patent, black shoes.
    â€˜No, no, Monsignor, that will not be necessary, no final decision has been made. But now, having listened to you, having weighed your arguments, having …’ the monsignor waited. The minister looked despairingly past the prelate for the help he knew would not come. ‘I can see that you are right. It’s just that …’
    And still the monsignor waited, refusing to end his misery. Having pulled the wings off the fly he denied it an easy end by stepping on it. He was, he knew, a cruel man by nature, but in this case his cruelty was not at all sinful for it had a perfectly valid motive. The minister had to be reminded that he couldn’t make decisions as if this matter rested solely in his hands. He was quite free to run Italy in whatever way he and others like him saw fit. But in certain matters he was a man under authority like everyone else. The words of the New Testament were as true today as they ever were, “those who are not with us are against us”. For Holy Mother Church there could be no neutrals, no middle ground for the uncommitted to occupy.
    The minister finally looked at him and smiled the weak smile that was the white flag of surrender.
    â€˜Why don’t you go and fuck yourself, you pious piece of useless dog shit?’
    His whole being was crying out to shout those words, to shout them out so loudly that the whole glittering, pointless, bloody circus would be brought to a stunned silence. He knew that once, long ago, when he was still a man with balls and not a political eunuch, he might have actually done it. But now his words, when they came, continued in the hushed tones they had both been using and were heard only by himself and the priest.
    â€˜Of course, Monsignor, you are right as always. I will see to it.’
    â€˜Tomorrow?’
    The last turn of the screw.
    â€˜Of course.’
    The unconditional surrender.
    â€˜Thank you, Minister. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I am rather busy tonight.’
    The prelate turned and left, moving on to other business. From across the room the minister’s closest aide began to hurry through the throng to see if he could breathe any life back into the corpse which was still standing, still with its back to the wall.

SEVEN
    At the same table in the same bar Jimmy and Ron had beer in front of them, Danny his usual cup of coffee.
    â€˜Danny, I just don’t see the problem. Jesus was human and divine at the same time, sort of half and half.’
    â€˜A mild and bitter God.’
    Ron looked at Jimmy, puzzled.
    â€˜Come again?’
    â€˜Mild and bitter, it was a pub drink years ago. You mixed half a pint of mild beer with a half of bitter beer.’ Ron’s face remained blank. ‘Mild never got to Oz though, did it?’
    Danny took a small sip from his cup.
    â€˜It never got to Jamaica either. I thought you were quoting from some poem, “a mild and bitter God”, sounds like it might be George Herbert, someone like that.’
    Jimmy tried out his smile. He was getting better at it.
    â€˜You know your trouble? You think too much, always looking for more meanings.’ He took a drink. ‘Sometimes it’s just about the beer.’
    Danny looked at Ron. Ron took his cue.
    â€˜I wish it was always just about the beer. I reckon life would be OK if all you had to worry about was where your next pint was coming from.’
    Danny grinned. Well done, Ron, the mild and bitter thing hadn’t been much of