Read Online Black Lipstick Kisses by Monica Belle - Free Book Online

boiling blood for pulling another girl’s hair at school.’
    â€˜Oh, Hell’s not all bad, it just gets a bad press. You hadn’t been reading Dante, I don’t suppose?’
    â€˜Yes. That was another problem, I used to read too much. I’ve read the Bible from cover to cover, and there’s some pretty heavy stuff there . . .’
    â€˜. . . stoned to death, burnt to death . . .’
    â€˜. . . “their blood put on their own heads”, I never did understand that one, but it conjures up a gruesome picture.’
    â€˜I’ve drawn it.’
    â€˜That I must see. I didn’t understand most of it, it just sounded awful. So I began to read other texts in the hope of it all becoming clearer, but it didn’t. Mum thought it great that I was so keen, and I was always top in Bible study, but they didn’t know what was going through my head. Then there was confession, but I could never understand why if you could be forgiven your sins so easily you shouldn’t do them. As I got older and sex started to get involved it got worse. I wanted to do all these dreadful things, and I knew that the thought was as bad as the deed, so I did it anyway, and when I confessed one time I caught the priest tossing himself off . . .’
    Michael burst out laughing, a full-blooded roar ofdelight. I shrugged and smiled, blushing slightly and well pleased with his reaction.
    â€˜That was my defining moment. I realised it was all bullshit and hypocrisy, just crap designed to keep the proles down, even when the priests believe it themselves. I rejected the church, but I felt I needed something to replace it, some abstract temple in which I could be honest with myself. For instance, I felt that as a woman I should be able to acknowledge the Mother openly, not behind a veil of pretence the way the Catholics do. I realised I’d always been clawing at the temple door, but from that moment I was within. I still believe in God, or at least the idea of deity, but nobody is going to make me believe that lot speak for him. Besides, there are so many different religions, all claiming to be the only one with the real truth, and they can’t all be right.’
    â€˜My thoughts exactly, but deity? Why worship a deity, God, or the Mother, or even Satan, if they provide nothing tangible in return? How can you even be sure they exist?’
    â€˜There must be some sort of spiritual force, surely? Haven’t you ever felt the change in atmosphere when you go into a church or a graveyard, or even into an old house, on a battlefield perhaps. The first time I went to Northern France, on a school trip, I kept getting these sensations of melancholy and fear, so strong I was shaking. Nobody else seemed to feel it, and I swear I’d never heard of Armentieres. There has to be something . . . No, there is something. You can feel it if your mind is open enough. Maybe some day I’ll show you.’
    We continued to talk as we walked through the East End, along streets Michael seemed to know better thanI did. Sometimes it was deep, sometimes shallow, usually strange and frequently dirty. By the time we got near All Angels we had stopped several times to kiss. In one alley Michael slid his hand into the front of my panties, only for a door to open unexpectedly just feet away from us. We ran off laughing, leaving me more ready than ever.
    I heard Lilitu barking before we could see the church. It was her angry bark, and gave me an instant stab of apprehension. I ran forward, Michael following, reaching the gates just as a pair of kids carrying spray cans burst out. They fled, and no surprise, with Lilitu right behind them, her teeth bared and her chest and neck brilliant red. For one moment I thought she’d got one of them, or worse, that she was hurt, before I realised it was spray paint.
    That was the end of my plans for sex with Michael. We had to find something to clean her fur safely, then do it,