Web Site Story by Robert Rankin Page B

deep and steadying breath. 'That was Dr Druid on the phone. Something has happened at the cottage hospital.'
    'Don't tell me someone has died.'
    'Worse than that.'
    'How can anything be worse?'
    'The three patients with amnesia. They've vanished.’
    ‘What, you mean they've walked out of the hospital?'
    'No,' said Derek. 'I mean they just vanished. Right in front of Dr Druid's eyes.'

4
    It was a balmy Brentford evening
    Calm and clear of sky.
    Sirius, brightest star of Heaven
    Gazed down from on high.
    And a zephyr, lightly blowing from the
    Gardens, south at Kew
    Brought the fragrances of lilies
    And of antique roses too
    All across the Thames to Brentford
    Where the borough, bound for night,
    Breathed in the sacred perfume
    Dum de dum de dum delight.
     
    There was no delight to be found on the face of Dr Druid. He sat in the waiting room of casualty, being comforted by a pair of nurses dressed in the kind of medical style that you just don't see any more. Consisting, as it did, of white high heels, fishnet stockings, short slashed skirt and tightly fitting blouse with several buttons missing from the top. The dress code had been instigated by Dr Druid, who held a lot of clout at the cottage hospital.
    At the arrival of Derek and Kelly Anna, Dr Druid waved away the nurses. The taller of the two, the bearded one called Gavin, said, 'Call us if you need, us, Dr Druid.'
    'Thank you,' said the doctor, and he gave Gavin's bottom a pat.
    'Outrageous,' said Kelly.
    'I know,' said the doctor. 'But what good is having power, if you don't abuse it every once in a while?'
    Derek shook his head and Kelly began to tease at her hair. 'Do you want to tell us all about it?' Derek asked.
    'In confidence,' said the medic. 'And on the understanding that no blame whatsoever attaches to my person. I want it to be made clear that I did everything I could for those patients and that no trace of fault can be laid at my door. I am innocent of all charges.'
    Derek took from his pocket one of those miniature tape-recording jobbies that newspaper reporters always carry in their pockets, and which have an uncanny habit of switching themselves on and recording incriminating information when the reporter has sworn upon the life of his ancient white-haired old mother that all he is being told is 'strictly off the record'.
    'I assume you want this strictly
on the record,'
said Derek.
    'Absolutely,' said the doctor. 'And none of it's my fault.'
    'Yes, I'll make that very clear. Now what
exactly
happened?'
    'They vanished!'
shrieked the doctor, his face turning pale and his eyes growing round as those of the owl known as Tawny. 'Right in front of me. They just faded away. Then they were gone. Gone, I tell you, gone.'
    'Gone?' said Derek, shaking his head. 'They really just vanished? Right in front of your eyes?'
    The doctor now spoke in the whisper known as hoarse. 'I know what it is,' he whispered. 'I'm not stupid. I know what it is.'
    'Go on,' said Derek.
    'This is
off the record,'
said the doctor.
    Derek made a show of pressing tape-recorder buttons. Strangely the recorder continued to record.
    'Go on,' Derek said once more.
    'The Rapture,' said the doctor, round eyes darting upwards, head upon his shoulders going nod, nod, nod.
    'The
what?'
Derek asked.
    'The Rapture,' said Kelly. 'The Fundamental Christian interpretation of several texts from the Book of Revelation. They have it that at the time of the Tribulation, when the Antichrist comes to power, the righteous will be carried aloft to Heaven. Bodily. One moment they will be among us and the next moment, gone. Vanished.'
    Derek stared at Kelly and then he stared at Dr Druid. 'You have got to be joking,' he said.
    'No,' said the doctor, shakily shaking his head. 'They went, whoosh, gone, vanished. They might be the first, but they won't be the last. But people won't believe the truth. People never do. They'll blame other people. They'll blame me.'
    The doctor, now shaking terribly, buried his face