Sidney Chambers and The Forgiveness of Sins (28 page)

After Sidney had given her his handkerchief and ordered further drinks, Amanda turned the conversation towards her childhood; how she wanted to run away back to the time when she was last happy, holidaying on the island of Skye, on a day with strong winds and dark skies, the barking of dogs, the bleating of sheep, the collapse of telephone wires – with no boat daring to go out to sea, and everyone stuck inside.

‘No one thought we would ever go out again, but then the dark clouds moved and everything blew over the Cuillins and the sun came through the clouds and light fell across the tops. The wind was stilled and we could go out again and I felt such happiness that the darkness had passed. I often think that if I ever go back there then the same thing will happen, that the clouds will clear and the air will still be fresh, and the dogs will stop barking, and the light on the mountains will be sharp even if it’s only for a short time. I will still have seen it. Do you understand, Sidney?’

‘Like Noah after the flood.’

‘We always need something to remember. A time when everything was possible. Do you think this too will pass?’

‘Eventually. The compensation for losing happiness, for discovering that it never lasts, is that our troubles are transient too.’

‘I don’t think that’s of much comfort to those who are in distress.’

‘One cannot be trite about these things. But the ultimate end to suffering is death.’

‘Then perhaps I could find the person behind all this and kill them myself?’

‘I’ll ignore that remark, Amanda. Have you received anything when you have been staying with Henry?’

‘You mean when I have been at his parents’ in the country?’

‘Or visiting him in his flat?’

Amanda put down her knife and fork. ‘He mustn’t know anything about this, Sidney. Underneath it all he’s a great worrier. I don’t want to put him off. You promised.’

‘I can’t remember making any such vow.’

‘Please, Sidney, I’m begging you. I can’t have another disaster . . .’

‘But if he knew all this was happening then he might be able to help you. He will probably have to find out anyway, even if it’s to save your life.’

‘You think it’s as bad as that?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Have you told Keating?’

Sidney wondered whether to lie. ‘Yes.’

‘I’m glad. What does he say?’

‘He’d like to see the letters.’

‘I’ve brought them for you. I can’t stand having them in the house. I know that if I want it all to stop for good then all I have to do is to throw Henry over.’

‘And do you want to do that?’ Sidney checked.

‘I have thought about it. When you lack confidence about these things . . .’

‘You shouldn’t . . .’

‘You know I do. All this front’s a bluster. I spend most of my life acting.’

‘I think we all do that; we play different parts depending who we are with and the situation we are in.’

‘But don’t you ever want life to just stop, Sidney? Sometimes I want to just run away to somewhere like the Villa Cimbrone in Ravello. That’s where Greta Garbo went. Did you know that? I could just stay there for ever and no one would ever trouble me again. It’s very lovely. You should see it.’

‘We can’t let these threats beat you down, my darling.’

‘Don’t . . .’

‘What . . .’

‘It’s nothing. Sorry. You should only call Hildegard by that name . . .’

‘She won’t mind.’

‘She will, Sidney. Don’t do it.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I like it. But don’t.’

‘I said I’m sorry. Do you love Henry?’

‘He’s kind but he’s not strong enough to stand up to me like you do. And I think he likes the fact that I am rich. Rather too much. If part of his love for me is a love of my money, I don’t mind. People often love each other for the wrong reasons. Physical beauty might be one of them too. We all know how that fades and disappears. At least if we go into all of this with our eyes open then we might end up with something a little more authentic.’

‘Do you think you know everything that you need to know about him?’

‘Don’t tell me any more, Sidney.’

‘But can you trust him?’

‘I trust him enough to live with him. I like him – and perhaps what we have is enough. It may not be passion, or the height of romance, but it is an understanding. If we go into this with our eyes open then we won’t let each other down.’

‘It sounds like a compromise.’

‘If you and I had married then things would have been different.’

‘But we didn’t, and it’s too late.’

‘I was stupid.’

‘Perhaps we both were, Amanda, but we can’t do anything about it now.’

‘Maybe one day. When we’re very, very old indeed and all our friends are dead.’

‘Yes, well, perhaps, one day. But I love my wife and you love Henry.’

‘Of course. I love Henry and you love your wife.’

Outside it was almost dark. Soft rain fell on hard pavements, forming shallow surface streams of water that gleamed under the streetlights and against the darkness. People moved at speed to be anywhere other than where they were, making for buses, taxis and the underground, seeking shelter from the wind that was against them, the rain and the world.

It was well after ten o’clock at night when Sidney caught the King’s Lynn train back from Liverpool Street. He read the letters:

I watch your every step.

You have no hope. You are hope less.

Say goodbye to your frends.

Just as Sidney was wondering what to do next, Canon Christopher Clough joined his carriage. For one moment he thought that his colleague must have been following him. Perhaps he was being stalked as well?

His companion said that he had been spending the evening with one of his most intimate friends. They had been to see Marlene Dietrich at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. Perhaps Hildegard would have enjoyed it?

Sidney had not known anything about the performance but was sure that the tickets would have been too expensive. He tried not to feel resentful. Clough chattered on, saying how he was also planning to see Mary Martin in
Hello, Dolly!
and Brian Rix in
Chase Me, Comrade!
Theatre was his lifeblood, he said, and he was fortunate to know so many members of the theatrical profession.

‘And how are your admirers?’ Sidney asked. ‘I saw Virginia Newburn in the cathedral on Sunday. She was asking after you.’

‘I can’t think why. She always knows where to find me. That’s the problem with being a priest, Sidney. There is no possibility of secrecy. You have to live your life out in the open.’

‘I thought that was the point. We are always on duty.’

‘It’s hard, though, isn’t it? We all need to let our hair down at one time or another. Those of us who still
have
hair, of course.’

Sidney smiled but refused to join in. His wife had already warned him not to be too smug about his possession of a full head of hair while his colleagues had begun to lose theirs. Was Canon Clough vain enough to use a hairdryer?

‘I imagine you have to be careful, Christopher. You wouldn’t want any of your parishioners getting the wrong idea.’

‘I think they enjoy a bit of flirtation.’

‘You wouldn’t want to lead them on.’

‘There is no danger of that, Sidney. I tell them I am celibate.’

‘And they believe you?’

‘Sometimes they accept it at face value. At other times they take it as a challenge. I also tell them that I’m afraid of being touched.’

Sidney had never met a man so calculating. ‘And what about Miss Newburn?’

‘Oh, I don’t think she’s capable of much.’

‘Tell me,’ Sidney asked. ‘Does she have a maroon coat?’

‘Probably. She’s always making things. She told me she could rustle anything up in a matter of days. She’s said that if I ever become a bishop she’ll make me a cope.’

‘And do you think that’s likely?’

‘I very much doubt it. But there’s no harm in humouring the woman, is there?’

‘I don’t know,’ Sidney replied. ‘You don’t want things to get out of hand. How many more women are you stringing along?’

‘That’s not quite how I’d put it.’

‘Are any of them married?’

‘Of course not. Although I do see some, come to think of it. They all seem relatively happy; a little bored perhaps, lacking attention. Their husbands take them for granted. And I cannot always account for my effect on the fairer sex. Sometimes I don’t even know I am doing it.’

There was strategy in this. All the women Canon Clough saw were vulnerable. If one of them ever complained then he could either say that the victim was making things up or that she was of unsound mind.

He had managed to cover his tracks in a way that Henry Richmond, perhaps, had not. Was Richmond a philanderer too? Sidney sighed as Canon Clough chattered on. He resolved to have it out with Henry.

In the pub the following night, Inspector Keating decided to have some fun by encouraging the landlord to tell a few stories: the witches who turn into hares; the lucky charms made from the severed heads of executed criminals; and the legend of Tom Hickathrift who killed a giant whose ghost could still be seen hurling cartwheels at unseen foes on stormy nights.

‘People believe all sorts round here.’

‘I’m supposed to have no truck with that kind of thing,’ Sidney replied as he picked up his beer and moved away to their regular table. Once he had sat down he told Geordie that he did, however, find the surrounding landscape all too eerie.

‘Perhaps the Fens are getting to you.’

‘The other day, when I was walking Byron, I saw a woman who looked exactly like Amanda. She was wearing the same coat.’

‘You mistook your best friend?’

‘I was convinced. But it was a coincidence.’

‘It’s unlike you to make a mistake like that, Sidney. It must have been the mist. It plays tricks on the eye. Figures appear and disappear so often that you can never be sure that they were there in the first place. The number of times I’ve been told about hauntings and apparitions when it’s often just some harmless lost woman trying to get home. People read too many ghost stories, that’s the trouble.’

Sidney confessed that he had been pushed to find a rational explanation for events. It was the first time he had not been able to trust his own eyes. ‘I wondered if I was dreaming, or if I was suffering from the beginnings of a migraine. Then I thought that the woman I saw might have been one of the members of the congregation: Virginia Newburn. She appeared to be leading me somewhere. But then she vanished.’

‘And does this Virginia Newburn know either Miss Kendall or her intended?’

‘I haven’t asked. I hardly know her.’

‘You could make her acquaintance if you think it might help.’

‘I might just do that.’

‘You also need to talk to Henry Richmond. He may have other fish to fry. Stranger things have happened. I went to see a French film at the Arts Cinema the other night. Cathy wanted a treat. Turned out to be a busman’s holiday. There’s a murder in it that’s very similar to the kind of cases in which we’ve been involved.’

‘What happened?’

‘There’s a sign at the end telling you not to give it away. You should go and see if you can work it out before the finale.’

‘I think I’m rather better in real life.’

‘Then don’t discount the husband-to-be. Henry Richmond could be up to his neck in the whole bloody thing.’

‘I don’t think he’s got the brains.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘He’s gone away for a few days.’

‘There you are then. Even money he knows more than he’s telling.’

A few days later Sidney took Byron out on a new walking route to the south of Ely along the Ouse and towards Little Thetford. He was keen to get to know all the surrounding area, much of which must have been unchanged since the land was first reclaimed. He passed a man who could have been from a hundred years ago, carrying a set of wicker traps. He said that he was out to cut back sedge and snare fowl. Sidney moved on to pass Holt Fen, keeping the cathedral still in view across the fields. And then it happened again.

Virginia Newburn was coming towards him. At first he mistook her for Amanda and couldn’t help but say so.

‘I thought you were my friend Miss Kendall only the other day. You seem to have the same coat. She got it at Derry and Toms. Did you?’

Virginia Newburn was unimpressed. ‘Your friend may have acquired her coat from an expensive London clothier but I made my own. I used to be a seamstress in London. On the Row. After the war. Then I came back home to look after my mother.’

‘Is she still with us? I’m sorry, I should know. I’m still relatively new.’

‘Yes, I do the nursing. Then I walk. I like to get out.’