The Enemy of the Good

by Michael Arditti

  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, v
enturing 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.

  ‘Sorry old chum,’ Clement replied, ‘the trappings were the one thing in which he believed.’

  The vicar left after paying a tribute to his father which Clement, fighting back tears, would have preferred him to save for the pulpit. He was succeeded by Karen, whose histrionic display spoke less of her sorrow than of her insecurity. Clement forgave her for the sake of his mother, who sat tenderly stroking her hair, assuring her that ‘Uncle Edwin’ had loved her very much. Her promise that she could stay the night at the hall left Valerie, scenting a rival, looking piqued.

  The next two days were given up to paperwork. It was as if the petty bureaucracy surrounding death served the deeper purpose of diverting grief. The newspapers treated his father generously, both in space and spirit, honouring his achievements as well as retracing his controversies, with every single broadsheet citing Mrs Thatcher’s condemnation of ‘this turbulent priest’. Letters of condolence arrived by the sackful, including one from the village postman. Among the heartfelt testaments from people whose lives he had touched were several vicious attacks from fundamentalists, claiming that ‘Bishop Judas’ would now be repenting his evil ways. To his surprise, Clement found that his anger was defused by their naivety. They condemned no one to hell but themselves.

  His chief concern was his mother, who was handling her husband’s death far better than her daughter’s disaffection. He longed to stop her humiliating herself: to stem the stream of contrite messages on Shoana’s answering-machine; but he was afraid that it would seem like asking her to play favourites. Apart from one quick call to Carla, demanding to be kept informed of the funeral arrangements, Shoana had not made contact with any of them since she stormed out of the house. She had not, however, been idle, as became clear when, halfway through planning the order of service with the vicar, Clement was rung by the undertaker with news of a likely delay caused by the police request for a post-mortem.

  ‘But why?’ Clement asked. ‘My father had a brain tumour. His death had been expected for weeks.’

  ‘I’m only the humble Mercury, Mr Granville,’ the undertaker replied. ‘Experience has taught me never to question the ways of Her Majesty’s constabulary.’

  Cloaking his apprehension in a show of outrage, Clement rang the station where, after confronting a surly subordinate, he was put through to an inspector who disclosed that there were ‘suspicious circumstances’.

  ‘What circumstances?’ Clement demanded. ‘My father was eighty-three with an inoperable brain tumour.’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir, that’s as much as I can say at this moment in time. We’ll be back in touch shortly.’

  Clement put down the phone, reporting the setback to the vicar, whose wan smile betrayed his embarrassment. Following his hasty departure, Clement explained the position to Mike and Carla. ‘It doesn’t make sense,’ he said. ‘What can have got into them?’

  ‘Your sister,’ Mike replied without a pause.

  ‘No, that’s not possible.’

  ‘I’ll bet you any money you like! You heard her the other day. She thinks you’re the anti-Christ… well, obviously… you know what I mean. She’s totally under the thumb of those maniacs.’

  The more Clement pondered, the more he knew that Mike was right. Nevertheless, as they sat in the drawing room with his mother, Carla and Valerie later that afternoon, he asked Carla to ring Shoana for confirmation. It came when, after a long silence, she slammed down the receiver with a cry of ‘You must be insane!’

  His mother tried to find excuses for Shoana’s behaviour. ‘It’s so out of character. She’s done many foolish things in her life, but never something like this.’

  ‘Hormones,’ Valerie said, with dry certitude. ‘Take it from me. I spent thirty-five years in a women’s college.’

  ‘It’s pure spite,’ Mike said. ‘She didn’t get her own way, so she’s making you pay for it.’

  ‘No,’ Clement said quietly, ‘you’re not being fair to her.’

  ‘Fair? Do you have any idea what this could mean?’

  ‘It’s too easy – for me at any rate – to see her as the irritating kid sister running to Nanny whenever Mark and I ganged up on her.’

  ‘You were always so good with her,’ his mother said. ‘Both of you.’

  ‘But this is far more than telling tales. Shoana was right. I haven’t taken her seriously. I p
ictured the Lubavitch as her latest fad… something she was promoting, like a pop star or a brand of jeans. It’s finally hit home that her faith is as real to her as mine is to me.’

  ‘Even so she can still see reason,’ his mother said. ‘We did at least teach her that. I propose we head straight down to London and offer her whatever she wants, as long as she withdraws the charge.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s not that simple,’ Mike said. ‘You don’t spend twenty years in a north London comprehensive without becoming something of an expert on the law. The matter’s out of Susannah’s hands. Now that the allegation’s been made, the police have a duty to investigate. All Clem can do is speak to his solicitor.’

  ‘No way,’ he replied. ‘That would give the accusation legitimacy. I’m not going to play by their rules.’

  ‘What nonsense!’ his mother said. ‘If you don’t call Gillian Wrenshaw, I will.’

  ‘It’s all so ridiculous! Who do they suppose would benefit from Pa’s death?’

  ‘You,’ Mike said quietly. ‘You’re now a very rich man.’

  Chastened, Clement went to ring Gillian, whom only that morning he had consulted as the co-executor of his father’s will. Having outlined his position in the broadest terms, he was taken aback by the urgency with which she insisted on making him an appointment for the following afternoon. So, with the funeral indefinitely postponed and both Mike and Carla anxious to return to work, he agreed to drive back to London after tea. He worried about leaving his mother, despite her assurances that she would be well looked after by Valerie.

  ‘The only person you must think about now is yourself,’ she said. ‘Not that there’ll be any problem as long as you keep a clear head. Explain that it’s simply your sister’s fantasy. We’ll all back you up.’