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 in his hands.

'He's taking it well,' said Derek.

Kelly shot him the kind of glance that suggested that his remark was at best indiscreet and at worst, something far more ghastly than that.

'Sorry,' whispered Derek. 'But come on now. This is clearly getting ridiculous.'

'And the waiter's sister? This would be a coincidence I suppose?'

'Could we have a look at the ward?' Derek asked.

Dr Druid unburied his head. 'The ward?' he asked in return.

'Where the patients vanished. There might be clues.'

'Clues?' Kelly whispered.

'Clues!' Derek whispered back. 'There will be an explanation for this.'

'There is,' said Dr Druid. 'It's The Rapture. They vanished at precisely eight minutes past eight, I looked at my watch. I'll just bet that means something, like the Beast 666.'

'Possibly an explanation that does not involve the Coming of the Antichrist and the onset of Armageddon.'

'All right,' said Dr Druid, hauling himself into the vertical plane. Til show you the ward. But it won't do you any good. It's The Rapture for certain and I am not one of the chosen. And if anything, that's what upsets me the most about this. I've spent my life in the service of others. If there was ever anyone deserving of being wafted up to Heaven, then that person is-surely me. It's all so bitterly unfair.'

'Perhaps they're being taken in shifts,' said Kelly. 'I'm sure that if it is The Rapture, you'll be getting exactly what you deserve.'

'That's a comfort,' said the rattled doc. 'I think.'

'Come on,' said Derek. 'Show us the ward.'

A lady, looking pretty in pink, now entered the waiting room.

She tottered on preposterous Doveston holistic shoes with nine-inch platform soles. The platforms of the shoes appeared to be transparent, little pink lights twinkled within, and lit up tiny plastic busts of a guru called Hugo Rune.

The lady in pink came a-tottering up to Dr Druid.

'What have you done with my husband?' she demanded to be told.

'Your husband, madam?' asked the doctor.

'Big Bob Charker, I'm his better half.'

'Ah,' said Dr Druid and his round eyes flickered at Derek.

'He's sleeping,' said Derek. 'He's under sedation, you'd better come back in the morning.'

'Oh,' said Minky Charker. 'So he's all right then? He'll live?'

'Absolutely,' said Derek. Kelly shot him another terrible glance.

'And who are you?' asked Minky.

'I'm a specialist.'

'Really? Are you?'

'Yes, I am.'

'And what do you specialize in?'

'Bullshit apparently,' whispered Kelly. 'I do love your shoes, by the way.' And she smiled upon Minky.

'They're the very latest fashion. Made of poly-synthacarbon dextroglutimatacide. They channel Earth energy right up the back of my legs. I've lost five pounds since I started wearing them this morning.'

'That is surely impossible,' said Derek.

'No, really. I had it in my purse, but I think it must have fallen out. Still, my impetigo's cleared up and my nipples are as hard as a pair of aniseed balls.'

'I'd better have a look at those,' said Dr Druid.

'We should be getting along to the ward,' said Derek.

'Yes we really should,' said Kelly. 'Goodnight to you, Mrs Charker.'

'Couldn't I come to the ward too?' Minky asked.

'Er no,' said Dr Druid. 'I'm afraid not. You can go to my consulting room and disrobe, if you want to.'

'I'm not particularly keen,' said Minky.

'Then goodnight to you madam.'

'Goodnight doctor.'

Dr Druid turned and led Derek and Kelly away to the general ward.

'Oh doctor,' called Minky. 'Just one thing before you go.'

'Yes?' said Dr Druid, turning back.

'Nurse Gavin is my sister,' said Minky.

'Oh,' said Dr Druid, in a low deep long and terribly sorry sort of way.

'Yes,' said Minky. 'And she rang me five minutes ago to tell me that Big Bob has been carried away in The Rapture.'

'Oh,' said the doctor, deeper and lower still this time.

'So one of you is lying,' said Minky. 'And I don't think it's my sister. Bearded women never he; it's a circus sideshow tradition. Like eating quails' eggs when the moon is new, and posting early for Christmas.'