The Enemy of the Good (33 page)

‘That’s “Thank you for ringing me,” Valerie, if you’re listening. “Thank you for being with him,” Mrs Shepherd, if you’ve picked up the phone.’

‘Hush darling! Don’t upset yourself. There’s no one on the line but us.’

Recovering, he assured her that the end had been peaceful: a gentle
susurration
as his father’s spirit returned to God.

‘There can be no more miracles,’ she said, giving no clue as to whether she was speaking personally or in general. After thanking him for being there, so formally that she seemed to be trying to convince herself, she said that she would take the first train home. As soon as she put down the phone, he rang Mike, catching him on his way to school. Imperturbable as ever, he
promised
to turn straight round and drive to Beckley, collecting Carla en route. Clement was grateful to have one less person to tell, afraid that, even if he succeeded in sticking to the story, repetition would make it glib.

His mother made no mention of Shoana. Suspecting that she would have no time to call her in the flurry of leaving and that nothing would fuel his sister’s resentment more than being excluded, he reluctantly picked up the phone. His fears proved to be justified when, no sooner had she absorbed the news, than she demanded to know the exact time of death.

‘I’m afraid I can’t say,’ he replied. ‘Somewhere in the early hours.’

‘Be sure to ask the nurses. It’s important,’ she said, so vehemently that he presumed it had some religious significance.

‘Neither of them was there. Only me.’

She made no comment, asking instead after their mother. For all that her absence had been central to the plan, he decided not to allude to it, at least for the present. ‘She’s very calm. I don’t know whether it’s sunk in yet. She’s been expecting it for months, and now it’s finally happened. I suppose it’s the
difference
between an inevitability and a fact.’ Her silence left him in little doubt of her disdain for such distinctions. Then, instructing him to arrange nothing without her, she hung up to ring Zvi.

Having survived the conversation with his sister, he felt strong enough to call his aunt, whose demand to be told that ‘he didn’t suffer. I can’t bear to think of him suffering,’ betrayed her true priorities even in grief. Her
insistence
that the funeral should not be ‘some hole-in-the-corner affair’ reminded him that, like it or not, his father had been a public figure and there would be widespread interest in his death. Loath to deal with it himself, not least after his recent mauling by the press, he rang Lucy, his father’s part-time secretary, who promised to drive over from Oxford after lunch.

He returned to the morning room, where Linda had been joined by Ruth. They had removed his father’s pills, smoothed his bedding and detached the syringe-driver from his arm, as though any remaining connection to the world would detract from the mystery of death. He accepted Ruth’s offer to call the doctor but, the moment she left the room, Linda resumed her homespun
metaphysics
, prompting him to plead exhaustion and flee upstairs. He hurried past the gilded array of ancestors, or ‘rogues gallery’ as his father had put it, but, catching the eyes of Squire Hubert Granville and his great-grandson, General Mark, he felt that their glazed expressions had grown more forgiving; he may have failed in his duty as an heir but he had fulfilled it as a son.

He lay on his bed, trying to adjust to a world without his father, when he was roused by the scrunch of tyres on gravel. Moving to the window, he was relieved to see that it was Mike and Carla. He ran down the stairs, narrowly missing Ruth, who frowned at behaviour unbecoming to his years, let alone his loss. Taking a moment to collect himself, he walked out to greet Mike,
relishing
the reassurance of his steady heartbeat and cool breath. Mike’s emphatic ‘I’m so very sorry’ signalled that he had said nothing to Carla who, after
discreetly
hanging back, came forward and threw her arms around his neck. He led them straight into the morning room to pay their respects, marvelling as his inveterately dry-eyed lover wiped away a tear. They then adjourned to the drawing room and sat in companionable silence.

Half an hour later, the doctor arrived to sign the death certificate. After submitting to the statutory condolences, along with a pointed effusion of gratitude for his father’s patronage of the local youth band, Clement showed him out and returned to the drawing room, where he found Mrs Shepherd serving coffee and biscuits and expounding her baking schedule in
anticipation
of a houseful of guests.

‘I’m best when I’m busy,’ she said, dismissing his suggestion that she ring up Waitrose. ‘Mr Shepherd too. He heard the news and then went straight out to clear the Well Walk. But he sent young Charlie Heapstone home.’

‘Pity!’ Mike said.

‘The Bishop was very fond of him,’ she said sharply. ‘He’d have wanted it.’ Then, with a glare as stern as if he had insulted her cooking, she left the room.

Mike flushed, as Clement and Carla burst out laughing.

‘She thinks you’re a ruthless plutocrat trampling on the poor working man,’ Clement said. ‘Serves you right for being such a lech!’

Mrs Shepherd’s confusion lifted their spirits and they regaled each other with anecdotes about his father, laughing loudly and, in Clement’s case, uncontrollably, until Shoana and Zvi’s arrival cast an instant pall over the room. As they stood at the door, wreathed in disapproval, Clement felt as if they had caught him dancing in the family vault. Taking hold of himself, he moved first to his sister, who kissed him perfunctorily, and then to Zvi, whose ‘I wish you long life’ as they shook hands, was so patently formulaic that it threatened to spark another fit of giggles.

‘Where’s Mother?’ Shoana asked. ‘Upstairs?’

‘She’s not here,’ he replied, ‘she went to stay with Valerie Sinclair.’

‘Valerie Sinclair?’ she asked incredulously.

‘She’s on her way back.’

‘Since when?’

‘Yesterday morning. She was looking wiped out, so I insisted.’

‘You insisted?’ It was as though grief had drained her of any speech but echoes.

‘I thought it for the best and so it’s proved. At least she’s been spared all of this.’

‘Let’s get this clear. You told her to go?’

‘Suggested. Advised.’

‘No one said anything to me. I was here two days ago.’

‘So was I. I’ve been here for weeks.’

‘Pa’s condition was stable. You were worried he would linger on.’

‘Don’t upset yourself, Shoana,’ Zvi said.

‘Or else that he could go at any time,’ Clement said. ‘Fortunately, it was the latter.’

‘Fortunately for who?’

‘For him. Who do you think?’

‘You said on the phone you were alone with him,’ she said slowly. ‘No nurses.’

‘Yes, it was a stroke of luck. I like to think that on some level he knew it was me. Of course he gave no sign.’

‘Yet only two days ago you were worried he’d linger on for weeks.’

‘We’ve just been through all that. It was impossible to predict. He gave up; he’d finally had enough.’

‘Who’d had enough? Him or you?’

‘I don’t follow,’ he replied.

‘Come on, guys,’ Mike said, ‘give us all a break. Your father’s just died.’

‘Am I right?’ Shoana asked Clement. ‘There’s no point trying to act the innocent. It won’t wash, not with me. You got rid of Ma. There were no nurses around. So you took matters into your own hands, in spite of everything we talked about – everything we agreed – only two days ago.’

‘Susannah, you’re crazy,’ Mike said.

‘It’s Shoana! Oh, what’s the use?’ she asked. ‘If your boyfriend’s prepared to kill his father, why should you remember my name?’

‘No one’s killed anyone!’ he replied. ‘That’s libel.’

‘So sue me.’

‘Let’s all take a deep breath,’ Carla said. ‘We’re in shock.’

‘Are we?’ Shoana asked. ‘I think some of us are unnaturally calm.’

‘Would you rather we were all as hysterical as you?’ Mike asked.

‘You should try showing some respect,’ Zvi said, ‘Shoana’s just lost her father. As well as some consideration for her condition.’

Clement stared at Shoana’s stomach and wondered if her response would have been different had her baby been healthy.

‘I just want an honest answer, Clement. After all, you claim to set such store by your integrity! Did you or did you not kill Pa?’

‘Not kill,’ he said wearily. ‘Release, if you like.’

‘No!’ Shoana cried, sinking her head first in her hands and then on Zvi’s chest when he moved to comfort her.

‘Don’t say any more, Clem,’ Mike said. ‘You’re not thinking straight. You’ve been up all night.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Clement replied. ‘I know what Shoana believes… that is I know what her religion tells her to believe. But I also know what she feels. She’s my sister.’

‘Stop talking about me as if I’m not in the room!’

‘I don’t understand,’ Carla said. ‘Are you saying that Clement helped Edwin to die?’

‘Killed, Carla,’ Shoana said. ‘Let’s call a spade a spade.’

‘And let’s call a mercy a mercy. I’m glad you know the truth, Nanna,’ Clement said, avoiding both her adult names. ‘I aimed to keep it from you, but now I want you to see what I did for Pa… how far I was prepared to go in order to help him.’ He choked back his tears, scornful of cheap sentiment. ‘Do you think it was easy for me? Well let me tell you it wasn’t! But I can promise you one thing; it was easy for him. He felt nothing, just slipping into a deeper and deeper sleep.’

‘So how did you do it? Pills? Or did you smother him with a pillow?’

‘Of course not.’ He shuddered. ‘It was the morphine. I simply upped the dose.’

‘That’s enough, Clem,’ Mike warned.

‘It’s a little late to protect him now,’ Shoana said.

‘Clement acted out of love. Whereas you were willing to let your father suffer for your own selfish ends.’

‘It’s God’s law,’ Zvi said.

‘Says who?’ Mike asked.

‘The Torah.’

‘Oh I see. All other laws, in Britain at least, are discussed and debated. We’re to believe that this one – the law of laws – fell clunk clunk out of the sky!’

‘But it’s against the law of the land too,’ Shoana said, ‘the law you uphold, the one that’s discussed and debated. You’d do well to remember that the next time you sneer at us. Now may we go in and see him, or have you disposed of the evidence? Buried him before we arrived?’

‘He’s in the morning room,’ Clement said flatly.

Shoana and Zvi went out, leaving an atmosphere of despondency. Clement tried to explain himself to Carla, who replied that she had ‘learnt very young that love meant letting go’. The exchange was interrupted by Mrs Shepherd, who was worried about lunch ‘what with two koshers and one picky eater.’ Clement, ignoring the jibe at Mike, whom she had yet to forgive for his
heartlessness
, suggested that she make something vegetarian, since Shoana and Zvi were sure to spurn anything from their kitchen. The surmise was confirmed when, venturing no further than the doorway, Shoana announced that they were driving into Oxford to buy food.

They were gone two hours, arriving back minutes before his mother and Valerie. While appreciating her kindness in escorting her bereaved friend home, Clement was dismayed by Valerie’s presence, with its hint of a world beyond the family circle, especially since Shoana barely allowed their mother to take off her coat before interrogating her.

‘Did you know about this?’

‘For Heaven’s sake,’ Mike interjected. ‘Edwin’s only just died.’

‘Somehow I don’t think that comes as any surprise. How could you, Ma? After everything we said… everything we agreed. It’s murder!’

‘Susannah dear,’ Valerie said, ‘you’re upset. Take care you don’t say
something
you’ll regret.’

‘You don’t know the half of it!’

‘What is it you want of me, darling?’ his mother asked gently.

‘Tell me you knew nothing of what Clement planned to do. Look me in the eye and tell me.’

‘What?’ Valerie asked. ‘What did Clement do?’

‘Ma had no idea,’ Clement said. ‘That’s why I got her out of the way. Yes, it’s true, everyone; I murdered my father. I hacked him down in the prime of life!’

‘Clement, you’re overwrought!’ his mother said.

‘Would anyone mind if I poured myself a drink?’ Valerie asked weakly.

‘Well, I won’t let you get away with it,’ Shoana said to Clement. ‘He was my father too. My wishes… my beliefs should have been respected. Come on, Zvi, we’re leaving. There’s no place for us here.’

‘Darling, don’t be like this. Now’s the time when family needs to stick together.’

‘You have your family, Ma. He’s there. I thought you wanted me… These last few weeks I thought we’d grown even closer. But all you wanted was the child. Sad isn’t it how we always want what we can’t have?’

‘You’re my daughter!’

‘And Clement’s your son. And we both know which counts for more.’

Clement watched as Shoana and Zvi walked out, leaving the others with information that they had no wish to digest but no chance to deny.

‘Oh Hell! Was the door open the whole time?’ Mike asked. ‘Does anyone know if the nurses have gone home?’

‘No one will listen to Shoana,’ Carla said. ‘She feels hurt… bereft, so she’s lashing out at whoever’s nearest to hand.’

‘Hormones!’ Valerie said. ‘If any of you are in doubt about the havoc
pregnancy
can wreak on the emotions, take a look at my comparative study of the Bari women in Colombia and the Canela in Brazil.’

Clement turned to his mother, who sat in silence, as though weighed down by her double loss. ‘Do you want to see him, Ma?’

‘I want to see him walk into the room as he was six months ago. I want to see him cycle down the High as he did fifty years ago… Yes, darling, I want to see him. But we’re neither of us going anywhere. There’s time.’

At half-past two, Mrs Shepherd summoned them for a meal which was
unexpectedly
jolly and, when she handed Mike a minuscule bowl of vichyssoise made from ‘leeks that Charlie Heapstone planted’, downright bizarre. At quarter to three Lucy arrived and, with her trademark efficiency, contacted church and college authorities before fielding the barrage of calls they received after Harry, determined that his brother-in-law should be given his due, informed the
Telegraph
and
The Times
. The vicar of Beckley arrived, ‘touting for business’
according
to Mike, who remained hopeful that Edwin’s well-publicised loss of faith would ensure that he was buried without religious trappings.