by James Runcie
‘He could not kill his own son.’
‘But Lord Teversham had done nothing wrong.’
‘He had taken a son away from his father.’
‘I had gone a long time ago. I would never have worked in his factory. You can’t want the best for your child, educate him away from the family and then expect him to come back as the same person. We lived in different worlds.’
‘Perhaps your father was not ready for your world.’
‘How did he do it?’ Ben asked.
‘He had a spring-loaded knife strapped to the inside of his arm.’ Sidney mimed the actions. ‘He shook his arm down and the knife projected forward in line with the palm of his hand. He raised his hand high, as in a fascist salute, and the blade retracted with the upward movement. The invention suited the gestures made during the play. It was ingenious.’
‘Dad the inventor. How did you find out?’
‘I saw the spring-loaded mechanisms at the factory. I realised how it could be done, but I could not prove anything.’
‘The blade at Simon Hackford’s?’
‘Planted. We’re not sure how your father did that. We could only ascertain his guilt by extracting a confession.’
‘You provoked my father’s anger?’
‘He wanted to be proud of you. It was a matter of honour.’
‘And I was not honourable?’
‘It became a question of shame.’ Sidney quoted from Richard II, ‘Mine honour is my life, both grow in one. Take honour from me, and my life is done.’
‘I like art, Canon Chambers. I like beauty. Is that so very bad?’
‘Of course not. It was your friendship that your father thought was wrong.’
‘And do you?’
‘Think it wrong? I am a great believer in privacy. It is none of my business.’
‘What people don’t understand,’ said Ben, ‘is that you can be intimate with someone, whether it is a man or a woman, without being physical. In fact, to be physical sometimes ruins the whole relationship.’
‘Are you sure you want to tell me this?’
Ben continued. ‘You can hug someone, and kiss someone, and go for walks or a picnic or go swimming but this is not something that is governed by passion. It is ruled by friendship.’
‘I understand.’
‘Passion is such a strong emotion that it dominates everything. It’s like a strong spice in a meal, or a dominant red in a painting. Your senses are drawn to it at the expense of everything else. Dominic and I were not physical friends, so to speak. But I did love him. We can’t help loving the people we do, can we? But that love doesn’t have to be physical. You can be equally intimate. It doesn’t matter. Do you understand what I mean, Canon Chambers?’
Sidney was thinking over what Ben was saying. Out of the window he could see a pair of swans flying low over the river and into the distance. He wondered where they were going.
Amanda had agreed to come down on 5 November for Grantchester’s annual fireworks party. A vast bonfire had been built on the Meadows and a display had been planned for 6.30 p.m. Potatoes wrapped in foil had been placed at the base of the fire and refreshments were on offer in the pavilion. Most members of the village were in attendance and Sidney hoped that the same number might come to his carol concert in a month’s time. Dickens, who was scared of the noise, was hiding under Sidney’s bed.
‘It was good of you to come, Amanda, especially on a weekday.’
‘I’m always keen to see you, Sidney, and, I know you’ve all had a terrible time. Poor Ben; and poor you . . .’
‘I just want the year to end.’
‘It’s been so eventful. But at least we’ve got to know each other. That is one consolation, don’t you think?’ Amanda asked. ‘We can tell each other anything, I hope.’
‘That is true.’
‘It doesn’t matter whether it’s God, crime or my new fur coat, does it?’
‘Of course it doesn’t, Amanda. Sometimes I wished we could talk about the trivial a little more. By the way, where did you get that coat? Did Eddie Harcourt give it to you?’
‘He did not.’
‘Then . . .’
‘I turned him down, by the way.’
‘Good. I’m pleased.’
‘Daddy’s not, although he’s already lined up someone else.’
‘Hence the fur coat.’
‘Indeed. But there’s no need for you to worry about any of that. As soon as I meet anyone serious you will have power of veto and I can’t imagine you approving of any of them.’
‘There’s bound to be someone in the end.’
‘Probably; but we don’t have to think about that now, do we? Is there any beer?’
‘I think there’s a whole barrel from The Green Man,’ Sidney replied, wondering how limitless Amanda’s supply of suitors might be.
‘Do you imagine they’ll give me a whole pint?’ she asked. ‘It’s not very ladylike.’
‘I’ll get one for you. They’ll probably give it to you on the house. You’re becoming rather well known round here.’
‘Well, I do hope people are talking. I like to create a bit of interest.’
The first of the fireworks exploded in the sky. The two friends took their pints out of the pavilion to watch the night rainbows of crimson, silver and gold.
‘What a sight!’ Amanda cried. ‘And what a sound! There’s enough noise to cover all manner of murders, I would have thought.’
Sidney smiled. ‘Don’t.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You are beginning to sound like me.’
She put her arm through his and the warm light of the bonfire lit up her face. ‘Is that a good thing or a bad thing?’
‘A very bad thing, I would have thought,’ Sidney replied. ‘Especially if you want to keep up with your friends.’
Amanda gave his arm a tug of reassurance. ‘You remember when I came to lunch last winter? It was when we thought the doctor might be polishing people off . . .’
‘It was the first time we were alone together.’
‘You said something to me then that I have never forgotten. Can you remember what it was?’
Sidney thought for a moment. Children raced in front of them, waving sparklers, shouting with delight. A Catherine wheel fizzed chaotically on the side of an oak tree. Rockets exploded in the sky.
‘You were advising me about marriage. You said that love was “an unassailable friendship”. Now, we’re not married, of course, but do you think we’ve got that now? With each other?’
‘Unassailable friendship?’
Amanda gave a little tug at his arm. ‘What do you think?’
‘I certainly hope so.’
‘So do I,’ said Amanda, kissing him lightly on the cheek.
The following Thursday Sidney was sitting with Geordie Keating in their accustomed positions at The Eagle. Their first pints of bitter were half-empty and a game of backgammon was well under way. The Inspector was convinced that he was on the cusp of victory while Sidney was mulling over the implications of the recent crime.
‘So complicated, the whole business of reputation, isn’t it?’ he mused. ‘So intangible, and so hard to know if you are maintaining it well.’
‘Isn’t it just a matter of keeping a clear conscience?’ the inspector asked.
‘I’m not sure that it is. I think it is worth thinking about the way in which other people see you. A man’s reputation can be more fragile than he thinks.’
‘You just have to be true to yourself, don’t you?’ the inspector asked. He threw a three and a one. ‘That’s what I try to do, even though sometimes, inevitably, the black dog comes; and I don’t mean your Labrador.’
‘Everyone has his moments of depression, Geordie . . .’
The inspector looked down at the board. ‘It’s your turn.’
‘I am sorry.’ Sidney threw his dice. ‘Oh good. A double six.’
Keating continued. ‘And then, when it does
come, I sometimes think that everything I do – whether it is in the Force, at home, for the wife, for the children, or out in the streets – anything and everything – is a waste of time. Nothing I do, in the grand scheme of things, can ever make much of a difference.’
‘I can assure you, Geordie, that everything makes a difference. The world would be a poorer place without you.’
Keating threw a two and a four. ‘I don’t know, Sidney. You solve one crime and then, as soon as you’ve done that, a hundred others spring up to take its place. The process is never-ending.’
‘We have to keep faith.’
‘I think that’s rather easier for you to say than me.’
‘I don’t mean religious faith. I mean faith in our own abilities. We have to do the best we can with the talents we have, Geordie. The future is too unpredictable for anxiety.’
‘And yet the anxieties come.’
‘Let us concentrate on the game, Geordie.’ Sidney threw a five and a three. ‘I can see that you need cheering up.’
‘I’m hardly going to cheer up if you keep winning all the time.’
Sidney leaned forward over the board. ‘Do you want me to lose deliberately? I am sure you would find that rather insulting.’
Keating smiled. ‘I don’t mind, Sidney, there are worse things in life.’
‘Indeed there are. And we must remember that there is much to look forward to: Christmas, for example, and your birthday too. A double celebration.’
‘I don’t know about that. I like the hullabaloo and the excitement of the children but Cathy always gets tense when her mother comes to stay. She feels judged all the time.’
‘Judge not lest ye be not judged.’
‘Well, Sidney, perhaps you could come round and tell my mother-in-law that? You would be welcome at any time.’
‘That’s very kind of you.’
‘But what are your plans, Sidney? Will you be seeing Amanda?’
‘I think so. Although she gets very booked up at this time of year.’
‘I would imagine you had first call.’
‘Not necessarily. She leads a pretty active social life. I am sure she will marry soon.’
Inspector Keating pretended, without success, to return to the game. ‘I have told you what I think about that.’
‘We are friends; nothing more.’
‘That’s a good enough reason, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t think so. I have thought about it, as you know only too well; but I don’t think it could possibly work. Her world is too different; and, of course, in many ways, I am married to my job.’
‘But you can’t be a bachelor for ever, Sidney. It’s too lonely.’
‘Perhaps that is the price of the priesthood?’
‘Nonsense, man. There are plenty of married clergy. You see them all over the place.’
Sidney was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He didn’t like talking about himself and realised that he found it far easier to ask questions than answer them. ‘I am aware of that.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
Reluctantly, Sidney realised that it was time for a little confession. ‘Well, Geordie, to tell you the truth, I thought that, after Christmas, I might have a little holiday.’
‘But where on earth would you go to at this time of year?’
‘I was thinking of Germany.’
‘I see.’ Inspector Keating gave Sidney one of his steady looks. ‘You’ve kept very quiet about that. You’re going to see Hildegard Staunton?’
‘I hope so.’
‘Does Amanda know of your plans?’
‘Not at the moment, no.’
‘And are you going to tell her?’
‘I am sure she won’t mind.’
‘I, however, am sure she will mind.’ Inspector Keating finished his pint. ‘Well, well, well. Your secret is safe with me.’
‘It is not a secret, Geordie.’
‘I think it should be. Still waters run deep, eh?’
‘I haven’t been to Germany for quite a while.’
‘I don’t think you are going for the landscape or the beer. Admit it, man.’
‘I don’t really want to talk about it, Geordie. I may have got completely the wrong idea. But there is something about Hildegard. I don’t know how to express it: but when I was with her, I felt at home.’
‘I will expect a full report.’
‘I am not sure I can promise you that, Geordie. We must have some secrets from each other, surely?’
‘I’ve told you before, Sidney. We can have no secrets, and we are never off duty.’
The publican threw another log on to the hearth and the fire blazed up once more, giving a comforting glow to the faces of the two drinkers. The two men resumed their backgammon and played in companionable silence until Sidney threw a four and a three to gain yet another unlikely victory.
‘I don’t know how you do it,’ his friend complained.
‘Think of it as part of the game we call life,’ Sidney replied.
‘It’s not much of a game if you keep winning all the time.’ Geordie Keating leaned back in his chair and accepted defeat. ‘Sometimes, Sidney, I really do think that you must have God on your side.’
‘I certainly hope so,’ his clerical companion replied. ‘Another round, Inspector?’
A Note on the Author
James Runcie is the Artistic Director of the Bath Literature Festival and author of four novels, The Discovery of Chocolate, The Colour of Heaven, Canvey Island and East Fortune. He is also an award-winning film-maker. James Runcie lives in Edinburgh with his wife and two daughters.
By the Same Author
The Discovery of Chocolate
The Colour of Heaven
Canvey Island
East Fortune
Copyright © 2012 by James Runcie
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without written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in
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Published by Bloomsbury USA, New York
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eISBN: 978-1-60819-858-0
First U.S. Edition 2012
This electronic edition published in April 2012
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