Chapter 65
‘What do we think?' Poe said, standing up. He had pins and needles in his feet and he looked accusingly at the chair. Why would anyone design something so uncomfortable? The Geneva Conventions banned sitting in the stress position, but apparently this didn't apply to chairs for the puritanical.
‘About what?' Linus asked.
‘Her. Virginia Rose. What's she getting out of this marriage?'
‘In some countries secular conservatives stigmatise older, single women, Poe,' Linus said. ‘Marriage is put on a pedestal. It's described in elevated terms and legislation that strengthens it is aggressively supported. Given she just told us she's anti same-sex marriage, it's reasonable to assume she's very much pro opposite-sex marriage. I doubt it's anything more complicated than that.'
‘Or perhaps she loves Nathan Rose because his genitals are like those of a donkey,' Bradshaw added.
Poe was glad Virginia Rose hadn't offered them tea; he'd have spat it all over the Ten Commandments tablet. He stared at Bradshaw in astonishment then glanced at the door to make sure Virginia Rose hadn't returned yet. That would have been all they needed. ‘Why on earth would you say that, Tilly?'
‘It's in the Bible.'
‘Don't be ridiculous,' Poe said, ignoring his golden rule of never, under any circumstance, arguing with Bradshaw about matters of fact.
‘She's right, Poe,' Linus said. ‘Ezekiel 23:20 says that Oholibah, "lusted after her lovers, whose genitals were like those of donkeys and whose emission was like that of horses". If I remember correctly, Oholibah was a metaphor for Jerusalem and the unfaithful and ungodly behaviour of the Israelites.'
Poe considered this. ‘It's not an obvious metaphor,' he said after a beat. ‘And Tilly?'
‘Yes, Poe?'
‘Please don't ask Mrs Rose if her husband has a donkey dick.'
‘I won't, Poe. I promise.'
Linus was studying the paintings on the wall. He pointed at one and said, ‘Bethany Bowman was right, wasn't she? Christians in the West always depict Jesus as being a white European with blond hair and blue eyes, instead of a first-century Judean with dark skin, dark hair and brown eyes.'
‘That's supposed to be Jesus?' Poe said. ‘I thought it was Bj?rn Borg.'
Bradshaw looked over Poe's shoulder and bit her bottom lip. He turned. Silently, Virginia Rose had re-entered the living room. She had been standing in the doorway, listening to them. She barked a short, humourless laugh. It was brittle and sharp, like breaking glass. ‘Our lives must seem very small to you, Sergeant Poe.'
‘Mrs Rose, I didn't mean—'
‘Nathan is on his way. I would appreciate it if you could keep that tack-sharp wit to yourself. He's a man of delicate disposition.'