Glittering Images (35 page)

‘Very well,’ he said, ‘I’ll turn on the spotlight. There are in fact a number of points about your story which I feel have a certain significance …’

‘Let’s turn the spotlight first on Lyle,’ said Darrow. ‘Unless she’s either a lesbian or else deeply involved with another man it’s hard to see why she should make such Herculean efforts to keep you at arm’s length. After all, let’s be frank; you’re extremely eligible. I haven’t forgotten that she may have profound psychological reasons for being set against marriage, but it seems to me that if she were completely frigid – to use the word in its psychoanalytical sense – you’d have deduced this during your more intimate moments with her.’

‘When I think of that sweltering kiss after our dinner at the Staro Arms –’

‘Yes, if you feel she’s sexually normal your natural reaction would be to look around to identify the man who has the benefit of her normality, but Charles, even if this man is Jardine, that still doesn’t prove she’s sleeping with him. She could well be in the grip of an unconsummated passion, and if we’re wrong and she does indeed have some shadow on her psycho – a fear of sexual intercourse, perhaps, which could coexist with an apparently normal enjoyment of romantic attentions – then she might feel that an unconsummated passion suited her better than a passion which was consummated.’

This unpleasantly plausible theory was not new to me but that did not make it less unpalatable. ‘In essence that was Jardine’s explanation of Lyle’s spinsterhood,’ I said with reluctance.

‘Yes, but that proves nothing,’ said Darrow at once. ‘It could be true – but if he were obliged to invent a story to explain her abstention from marriage he’d naturally pick the most plausible story available.’ And before I could comment he added: ‘Let’s shine the spotlight now on Jardine himself because the next significant point on my list is Jardine’s attitude to you. I don’t think you’ve quite realized how odd this is. Here you have a man who has a reputation for being fairly rude fairly often in his relentless crusade against hypocrisy. However when your Machiavellian purposes are finally unmasked, does Jardine lose his temper with you? No, he doesn’t. After a formal expression of outrage in which his anger is directed not against you but against Dr Lang, he apparently makes strenuous efforts to be civil – indeed he seems to pursue a policy of converting you into a episcopal pet. Now this is all very admirable but is it typical of Jardine? Not from what I’ve heard of him. Why didn’t he kick you out of the palace? It’s nonsense to say that your abrupt departure would have created unfortunate publicity. Jardine’s always having rows with people. He’d just had a row with his Archbishop in the House of Lords. What newspaper would pay the slightest attention if he now had a row with a mere canon? His whole behaviour is most intriguing.’

This was certainly an angle I had failed to perceive in the dimensions of the Starbridge mystery. ‘What’s the explanation?’

‘Let’s hear your opinion, not mine.’

‘Jardine could have decided to tame me in order to allay my suspicions – and because he didn’t want to worsen his relationship with Lang by throwing me out.’

‘True. Perhaps too he feared that if he threw you out Lang would suspect the worst. Go on.’

‘I’ve run out of explanations.’

‘There’s one other possibility,’ said Darrow, pouring me some more tea. ‘He might have given in to the urge to treat a promising young man as a son. It’s a common syndrome among childless middle-aged men and would certainly explain his unusual benevolence towards you.’

I suddenly found I could not drink my tea. I had to replace the cup in its saucer.

‘All we can say with confidence here,’ said Darrow, watching me, ‘is that Jardine acted out of character, a fact which could be significant. And my next significant fact –’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘where does the spotlight go next?’

‘Let’s turn it on the signet-ring. Everyone so far, even Loretta, seems to have treated your theory of the informal marriage as if it were the last word in outrageous fantasy, but the fact remains that it’s the one theory which explains how Jardine could enter into a liaison with Lyle and still believe he was avoiding apostasy; the fact that he would be grossly deluding himself is beside the point.’

My relief was so great that I was unable to speak.

‘The question I’d like to ask Lyle,’ said Darrow when he saw I was beyond speech, ‘is this: why did old Mrs Jardine – the stepmother – give her that particular ring? Most women of that generation would own several rings, not necessarily expensive ones but ornamental dress-rings incorporating semi-precious stones. If Mrs Jardine’s hands were so afflicted by arthritis she wouldn’t have been able to wear any of her rings. Why not pick a pretty feminine ring for Lyle? Why choose this masculine signet-ring unless it had some special significance?’

‘That’s true.’ Excitement restored my power of speech.

‘Don’t get excited, Charles. The choice of ring proves nothing – old ladies can have strange whims. But nevertheless it’s significant.’ He poured some more tea for himself. ‘I also find it significant,’ he said, ‘that when at the dinner table you finally began to make statements implying the existence of an informal marriage, no one made any remark such as: “Good Heavens, what’s he talking about?” or: “I’m so sorry, Dr Ashworth, but could you repeat that because I think I must have misheard you”. Your bizarre statements are received with a notable lack of astonishment – but this may merely have been because everyone was frozen with embarrassment by your lack of sobriety.’

‘So still nothing is proved!’

‘No, but the next significant fact – Jardine’s final explanation of his
ménage
– certainly makes one wonder what can be going on.’

‘Does it?’ I said confused. ‘But he was so convincing! He destroyed my certainty that I knew the truth!’

‘That says much for Dr Jardine’s powers of persuasion and he may indeed be innocent of wrongdoing, but there’s an inconsistency in his story which appears to have eluded you. First of all he says he was attracted to Lyle but he appeased his wife by keeping Lyle in the household. It seems unlikely that any clergyman would decide to steer such a risky course unless he was deeply in love and not responsible for his actions, but let’s concede he was at his wits’ end about his wife’s health; let’s assume he spoke the truth when he implied his feelings for Lyle were a mere sexual inconvenience and that he had an overwhelmingly urgent reason for continuing to employ her. He then states that he mastered his feelings so that the
ménage
was able to function successfully. This too seems unlikely, but let’s remember that middle-aged men do recover from tiresome minor infatuations, particularly if, like Jardine, they have powerful motives for recovering; in other words, let’s once more give him the benefit of the doubt and assume this statement too is true. But then he brings out a really amazing piece of information: he admits that when he and Lyle first met he wanted to marry her. Now, Charles, in my opinion that statement is incompatible with his earlier assertion that she was a mere sexual inconvenience. When a man wants to marry, deep passions are involved which can’t conceivably be dismissed as an inconvenient middle-aged itch.’

‘So he was probably lying when he said he’s mastered his feelings!’

‘No, don’t jump to conclusions. This inconsistency certainly makes his story less plausible but implausible things do happen and we still have no evidence that he didn’t succeed in controlling his feelings at Radbury. In fact his statement that Mrs Jardine improved so much under Lyle’s care that she was able to resume the marital relationship has the ring of truth and supports the idea that far from foundering further the marriage took on a new lease of life.’

‘But what happened when they came to Starbridge and Mrs Jardine’s health deteriorated again? Couldn’t Jardine’s strong feelings towards Lyle have resurfaced?’

‘It’s impossible to know. And may I remind you, Charles, that we have no evidence whatsoever that Jardine and his wife aren’t still enjoying marital intimacy.’

‘But according to Loretta –’

‘Loretta submitted a plausible theory about what might have happened to the Jardines’ marriage five years ago, but it remains a theory.’ Darrow paused to allow me to digest this before adding: ‘Charles, the significance of Jardine’s disclosure that he once wanted to marry Lyle is
not
that it constitutes proof of gross misconduct. It doesn’t. The significance lies in the fact that it reveals a situation which could hardly have been worse for Jardine’s spiritual health. Even if there was no adultery in any physical sense, the scope for continuing adulterous thoughts is enough to make any confessor blanch.’

This fact at once seemed so obvious that I exclaimed: ‘Why on earth didn’t I see that at the time?’

‘You were drunk and intolerably confused, but the truth is, of course, that any spiritual counsellor would have told Jardine to get rid of the girl even if the dismissal resulted in another breakdown for Mrs Jardine. One’s driven to conclude that Jardine sought no advice and merely went his own way – a very dangerous course for a clergyman to steer in such a very dangerous situation.’

‘So the stage would have been set for the kind of gross error represented by the unofficial marriage.’

‘Possibly, although there’s still no proof that the gross error ever happened. Nevertheless the situation’s significant – as significant as that final scene between you and Jardine, the scene which could justifiably be described as a nightmare in counselling.’

I stared at him. Then I gave a convulsive shudder and looked away.

‘We needn’t talk about it now,’ said Darrow at once. ‘All I’m implying is that Jardine’s gross mishandling of the scene suggests that he might have been shattered by the accuracy of your disclosures, but this again, like all our other theories, is non-proven. The innocent explanation is that he was shattered to see a young man whom he regarded as a son in such extreme distress, and his emotional involvement with you destroyed his ability to give effective counselling.’

Still not looking at him I said carefully, ‘I want you to explain, please, why you’re so sure he grossly mishandled the scene. After all, I haven’t told you the details. How could you possibly know whether the disaster was his fault for being inept or my fault for being –’ I gave another shudder.

Darrow said without hesitation, ‘Obviously you were in an extremely bad way and obviously something had to be done, but the solution was not to make a long speech which wound you up so tightly that in the end you snapped and rushed off on a journey you were quite unfit to undertake. What he should have done was calmed you down by letting you talk; he had absolutely no business to be making speeches when he should have been listening. Then the next mistake he made was to say what he did say, because whatever was said clearly proved unendurable to you. In that single comment you made earlier on Jardine’s speech you said: “He tore up my glittering image and rejected my other self beyond”. Now we won’t attempt an analysis of that sentence yet, but it seems clear to me that Jardine did something which is psychologically taboo: he dismantled defences which should have been left intact until you were strong enough to dismande them yourself.’

‘Defences …’

‘Don’t worry about that now. Obviously we’ll have to discuss the significance of your glittering image, just as we’ll have to discuss your whole relationship with Jardine, but we won’t discuss them until you’re ready to do so, and when we do embark on a discussion I can promise you that the conclusions you draw will be your own, not conclusions which I’ve imposed on you during a long speech.’

After a pause I said slowly, ‘He clearly thought – he made me believe –’

‘We’ll stop there,’ said Darrow, rising to his feet.

‘– but in contrast you’re treating me as if –’

‘Come on, I’ll take you back to your room.’

‘But tomorrow,’ I said, ‘I’ll talk about him. I know I can talk about him now. You’ve got faith in me. You take my theories seriously. You don’t think I’m –’

‘Let’s deal with tomorrow when we come to it – you’re too tired to talk more at present,’ said Darrow, and sinking obediently into an exhausted silence I let him lead me back to my room.

‘I want to talk about Jardine,’ I said the next day to let him know my courage had not faded overnight.

‘We can certainly talk about him if you wish, but I rather thought we might begin this examination of your private troubles by having another look at the vexed question of your celibacy. I’ll tell you why: it’s because it seems to me to be your most urgent problem. After all, you can probably live without Jardine, but can you live without a wife? The answer would appear to be no.’

I relaxed as the ordeal of discussing Jardine was postponed. We were sitting at the table in my room again, and outside in the garden it was still raining.

‘The situation is certainly confusing,’ Darrow was adding. ‘On the one hand you appear to have no doubt that you’re not called to celibacy. But if we take celibacy in its strict sense – abstention from marriage – there’s no denying that the celibate life is exactly what you’ve managed to achieve.’

‘But that’s not in response to a call from God.’

‘You may well be right, but it’s a very important point and we’ve got to be sure. I think you’d agree that so far as marriage is concerned there are two types of churchmen. One set feels that marriage distracts them from serving God as well as they can, and the other set feels that as single men they can’t serve God properly because they’re continually distracted by loneliness and by wondering (as the naval ratings would say) where the next fuck was coming from.’