‘What… what do you want to know?’ he asked, his voice faltering.
‘All of it. From the top.’
Micky took a deep breath in, began tapping his foot nervously on the floor, and slowly exhaled, whistling through his mouth. It was clear to see this went against everything he believed in, that it pained him just thinking about letting all his dark little secrets out. But he had no choice. Ahead of his speech, Rachel prepared her pen and notebook.
‘Listen,’ he started, already setting the tone of what he was about to say. ‘You have to understand that this is a world with which you’re probably not familiar, that you may never understand. There’s nothing wrong with what we do, nothing immoral or corrupt or illegal about it. It’s just… different.’
‘Okay… You’ve got your caveat out of the way, now you can tell us everything.’
Micky swallowed hard. ‘On the first weekend of every month, Friday through Saturday, I host a party night. The Nights of Eden. It’s invite only. The rest of the property is closed, so no weddings, no guests, and everyone attending must come in fancy dress.’
‘Fancy dress?’
‘Let me finish!’
Tomek raised his hands in mock surrender. He didn’t need to be told again.
‘Fancy dress can be anything,’ Micky continued, letting out a heavy sigh, ‘but it’s like a masquerade ball, like the type you used to get in the old days. So face masks, like the Venetian ones you see on TV, are required to protect your identity, or at least some elements of your identity. Some people come with devil masks, others the generic masquerade masks. Others wear anything that covers their entire face. Angelica, I remember, usually comes in the same outfit: an angel, complete with skimpy little white dress, feathered wings attached to her back, white eye mask and a golden halo above her head. To the best of my recollection, she’s been to every meeting since I first invited her back in September. She hasn’t missed an event yet – most people don’t once they get a taste of it.
‘There are certain rules that everyone must follow if they wish to attend. First, you must kiss the hand of the person who arrived before you, and then you must wait for the next person to arrive to kiss your hand. It creates a chain, and the aim is to arrive as early as possible so you’re not the last one in. That person is usually left standing outside in the cold for the entire evening. Once guests are inside, they must then offer a sacrifice. Don’t worry, it’s not anything morbid or bloody, it’s an offering to me, as their host. They have to give me something of theirs: an item of clothing, food, drink, any possession they might have that they’re willing to sacrifice. Then, after that, they must kiss Paddy the Pig. Again, don’t worry, it’s nothing sordid. It’s not like you have to kiss a real one. Paddy’s a taxidermy of a pig we once had in the family many generations ago. He was said to have brought our family good fortune in the past, and so I hope he gives all my guests good fortune, too. It doesn’t matter where you kiss him, or for how long, so long as your lips touch a part of his body, I don’t mind.’
This was getting weirder by the second. Normally, Tomek would have called bullshit on everything the man was saying, but for some reason he unequivocally believed every word that came out of Micky Tatton’s mouth. He was stunned at the sort of bizarre rituals Micky had his guests follow, and wondered what type of person would be willing to agree to them. It was the sort of thing you’d see in films and TV dramas – the high-society secret parties, the political and social elite committing nefarious acts on animals in a bid to win a higher social standing – but he never thought he’d come across it in real life.
‘Inside The Nights of Eden,’ Micky continued, ‘we have different rooms for different things. There’s music provided by a DJ playing in one of them, bars where you can buy drinks. People go in there just for a dance, a little bump and grind. Then we have other rooms where people enjoy themselves a little more freely, and with fewer clothes on, if you know what I mean.’
Tomek knew exactly what he meant, but he couldn’t forgive the man for saying “bump and grind”. Nobody of his age should be saying that type of thing. It made him cringe.
‘What happens in these rooms?’ Rachel asked, more to point up Micky’s awkwardness rather than her own naïvety.
‘You want me to spell it out?’
She prodded her pen on her notebook. ‘If you could. I’ve got to write it down, and I could use a hand with the spelling as well.’
A long, heavy sigh left Micky’s nose. ‘In a couple of the rooms there’s… there’s… it’s an orgy, okay? Beds, sofas, cushions, apparatus – all over the place. Music in the background. A lot of fragrance in the air. And people just… doing what they want to do to one another.’
‘Got that, Rach?’ Tomek asked.
‘Doing what they want to do to one another,’ she repeated, then looked up from her notebook. ‘Have you ever had an instance where someone did something the other person didn’t want them to do?’
‘You mean rape?’
‘Or sexual assault. It comes in many forms.’
Micky shook his head so hard that his cheeks caught up with the rest of his face a fraction of a second later. ‘Never. No. Absolutely not. I have never had any such instance. Like I said, everything is consensual.’
‘But if something did, would you tell us?’
‘Yes.’
‘That wouldn’t interfere with your NDAs at all?’
‘I… I don’t sign one, so I’m not bound by anything.’
‘Just your own moral compass,’ Tomek retorted.
If Micky Tatton took offence at the comment, he didn’t show it.
‘What else goes on?’ Rachel asked.
‘More sex,’ Micky replied bluntly. ‘Couples, trios, as many people as they like, can go into some of the private rooms and sleep together. There are toys, straps, whips, anything they want. It’s all supplied to them.’
‘Protection?’
‘We have condoms, yes…’ Micky hesitated, his mouth open.
‘Why do I sense a “but”?’
‘But half of them have been pierced. It’s one of the rules we have. There’s a pot of them in the corridor, you reach your hand in, take one, and…’
‘And hope for the best?’ Tomek finished.
Now he was beginning to wonder about who the father of Angelica’s unborn baby might be.
‘Anything else?’ Rachel asked.
Micky shook his head.
‘Did Angelica ever use any of these rooms?’ Tomek asked.
