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Authors: Susan Howatch

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BOOK: Glittering Images
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‘She’s better now that she’s made up her mind to marry me.’ I waited for him to defend himself; I was poised to deliver all the arguments against his informal marital arrangements; I was ready to grapple with the full force of his charism as we wrestled in debate. But he eluded me.

‘The most important thing,’ he said, ‘is that Lyle should be restored to full spiritual health.’ And he touched the cross on his chest. At once I knew he was tapping it for the strength to go on, and suddenly I feared he was going to undermine my enmity and plunge me once more into confusion.

‘I’d very much like to see Lyle,’ he said, ‘because I think it’s important that I set her free to be happy in her new life. I’d like to tell her that at best we contracted what the lawyers call a voidable marriage, a marriage which the parties can set aside if they choose, and I’d like to make it clear that I do release her from those vows she made five years ago. I’d also say that although of course I shall miss her very much she’s on no account to feel guilty about leaving me, and I’d say that because as I survey the events of the last few months it seems very obvious, Dr Ashworth, that you were sent into our lives for a purpose, and that I would indeed be the apostate you doubtless think I am if I failed to understand that it’s entirely God’s will that Lyle should now become your wife.’

I was beyond speech. I was unable to decide whether he was being immensely clever, scheming to tame me into a pliable son-in-law, or immensely heroic, relinquishing the woman he loved in the best possible way, and I had the terrible suspicion he was being heroic.

‘I’m not an apostate,’ he said when he realized I was too confused to reply. ‘I reached my decision to marry Lyle because I thought I discerned God’s approval. The rational arguments for the decision were weak but I’m a clergyman, not a lawyer, and I came to the conclusion that God had provided me with this strange solution to my troubles to enable me to continue to serve him to the best of my ability. Obviously events have proved that I was in error. ‘Truth is the daughter of time,” as the saying goes, but five years ago I did what I honestly believed to be right, right for me, for Carrie and for Lyle.’

He paused but when I still offered no comment he fingered his cross again and said, ‘It seems in retrospect that my error was very grave, but our errors are so often rooted in circumstances over which we have no control, and the foundation of my error here goes back a long way, as no doubt you realize. My father and stepmother had such a powerful influence on me, and although I’ve always congratulated myself on escaping from the world into which I was born I see clearly now that my whole career has inevitably been coloured by my heredity and the very singular environment of my youth. However please don’t think I’m trying to make excuses for myself; I’m not. I’m merely trying to put my behaviour in a truthful perspective because I believe it’s important that you shouldn’t look at me and feel perpetually disillusioned with the Church. I’m not the first churchman to fall into error and I certainly shan’t be the last, but you should understand that I’m not an emissary of Satan but merely a devout man who’s made an appalling mistake.’

He stopped speaking again, and again I found I was impressed yet sceptical. The situation called for the charism of the discernment of spirits, but at that moment I was quite unable to tell whether his speech came from God or the Devil.

‘Lyle will be concerned for Carrie and myself,’ said Jardine. ‘That’s inevitable and that’s another reason why I’d like to see her. I want to explain that we’ll be all right. I shall, of course, resign my bishopric. I shall make some excuse about ill-health and retire to a distant village – somewhere near Oxford would suit – where Carrie and I can live quietly. I’ve always wanted to write a serious theological study instead of sermons and polemics, and retirement will give me the necessary time to do so. As for Carrie, no doubt she’ll come into her own at last. She never enjoyed being the wife of a successful clergyman, but now I foresee her taking an active part in village life and becoming vastly popular while everyone secretly moans about her tiresome irascible old husband … And once Carrie’s happier than she’s been for years our marriage may well take a turn for the better. At least I shall hope so, and perhaps in such changed circumstances I shan’t hope entirely in vain.’

I now had the confusion in my mind under control. With the strength developed by Darrow’s training I had achieved sufficient concentration to wipe the blackboard of my consciousness clean so that God could write upon it if he wished. Then I prayed again for the gift of discernment.

At last Jardine said, ‘When are you getting married?’

‘Very soon. I’m getting a special licence.’

Jardine looked puzzled. Cautiously he said: ‘Forgive me – I’ve no wish to interfere, but is it really advisable to rush into this? I speak as a man who himself married in haste, and I do most strongly urge you not to follow my example.’

Without speaking I produced Lyle’s letter and gave it to him.

He groped for his reading-glasses. When he opened the envelope the signet-ring fell out and I saw him flinch before he slipped it in his pocket. I went on watching him and eventually I heard the sharp intake of breath as he reached the crucial sentence. The next moment he was levering himself to his feet. On the side-table stood a decanter of brandy, the silent witness of the strain he had endured since receiving my telephone call that morning, and be now poured himself a stiff measure into the tumbler which I knew had already been used. All he said in the end was, ‘I’ve got to be alone.’

I withdrew to the hall. I was still channelling my concentration into keeping the blackboard of my mind clear, but although I continued to pray for enlightenment I remained confused. As Darrow had so truthfully pointed out, I was in many ways a very ordinary clergyman and I now felt quite out of my spiritual depth. Again I prayed for the grace of God which would transform my weakness into strength, and again the familiar prayer of Christ echoed in my mind: let thy will, not mine, be done.

The door of the library opened. I had probably been in the hall no longer than five minutes but it seemed that a far longer time had passed. From the threshold Jardine said, ‘Come back, please,’ but he was turning away as he spoke and it was not until I had rejoined him in the room that I saw his eyes were bloodshot. The gift of discernment at once overwhelmed me; looking past the mask of his heroic resignation which that faultless speech had so effortlessly projected, I saw not the Devil’s emissary but only a good man struggling to master the most profound emotions.

‘Thank you for letting me have those few moments alone,’ he said, and I was just thinking how self-possessed he sounded when I realized he was unable to continue. However when we were both seated again he managed to say, ‘I’m sorry, I feel so overwhelmed, I still hardly dare believe it, it’s as if the whole tragedy’s been redeemed – it even makes Lyle’s loss easier to bear because of course this is the most miraculous compensation –’

I suddenly saw what was going to happen, and as I heard Darrow saying, ‘Leave Jardine to God, Charles,’ the chalk began to write at last on the blackboard of my mind. I could hardly bear to read the message but I knew I was powerless to erase it. I was bound by my call, and only one course of action lay open to me.

‘I’ve always wanted a child,’ said Jardine. ‘I think it’s the one thing, even now, that I want the most. It was so hard to accept when God withheld the blessing of living children from my marriage, and I’ve often felt acceptance would have been easier if there had been no children at all. That stillborn baby … That agonizing glimpse of a future that never happened … It was almost unendurable to know one had created a child only to lose him before he’d even drawn breath in the world.’

I could only watch him in silence, and in my mind the chalk was finally still.

‘And how wonderful that you should want to marry her!’ said Jardine, too absorbed by his emotions to notice my lack of response. ‘In the circumstances that too’s miraculous – everything’s miraculous – I felt so destroyed by this disaster but now I can start to hope again.’ Clumsily he poured himself some more brandy. ‘After your telephone call this morning,’ he said, ‘I didn’t know how I was going to bear her loss but gradually after much prayer I realized that my chief task was not to think of myself but to help Lyle by setting her free. So I resolved to put on a brave front – but it was so hard because I knew how much you must despise me – oh, how shaming it was when you walked into the room this evening, how terrible it was to look at you and
know that you knew
… Forgive me, I can see I’m embarrassing you by my frankness, but I’ve suffered so much, never think I haven’t suffered, and that’s why this news is so wonderful because it transforms all that suffering and makes it bearable at last.’ He hesitated before adding diffidently, ‘I shall look forward so much to watching him grow up.’

I said nothing.

His expression changed. He had recognized his executioner but could not quite believe the execution was at hand. ‘I trust,’ he said, ‘I’ll be allowed to see the child from time to time.’

I felt as if I were seeing a man facing a firing squad where all the bullets were being fired in slow motion, but when I spoke it was not because I wanted to but because I had no choice; the message had to be delivered.

‘I’m afraid you must take it as settled,’ I said, ‘that the child will be mine and not yours. I’m sorry, but I’ve been called to make this difficult marriage and because of the nature of the liaison you had with Lyle I don’t see how I can possibly risk allowing you to play any part in my married life. It’s out of the question –’ I hesitated but made myself add ‘– for the present.’

He grabbed at the lifeline. ‘But in the future –’

‘We’ll see. It depends very much how Lyle and I get on and that in turn depends on how conscientiously you keep out of our lives.’

‘I needn’t see Lyle. But if I could occasionally see the child – with the help of an intermediary –’

‘No. Don’t get carried away by the sentimental notion that your biological connection gives you the right to treat my child as yours.’ I could hear my father’s fierceness in my voice. Touching my hidden cross I made a new effort to be calm. ‘Obviously he’ll have to know the truth some day,’ I said, ‘and when he does know he’ll want to see you, but until then you must keep your distance unless I feel it’s safe to allow you to draw closer.’

He struggled with his emotions and it was some time before he was able to say, ‘Could Lyle perhaps send me a photograph occasionally?’

‘Lyle will send you absolutely nothing,’ I said, ‘and I forbid you to communicate with her.’ I had to steel myself to add, ‘
I’ll
send the occasional photograph.’

He tried to thank me but I cut him off. Having been compelled to take a tough stance I did not want him making me feel guilty by displaying humility.

Eventually he said, ‘Am I not to see Lyle – even to say goodbye?’

‘I’ll bring her here after dinner tonight, and you can make your set speech to her in my presence. Meanwhile perhaps Mrs Jardine would be good enough to pack some clothes for Lyle to take away – and when we have our new address in Cambridge I’d be obliged if you’d forward the rest of Lyle’s possessions at my expense.’

He nodded. I assumed that there was no more which could possibly be said but as I rose to my feet he added unexpectedly, ‘Would you like a drink before you go? This interview must have been almost as great an ordeal for you as it’s been for me.’

‘Thank you, Bishop, but since I was so drunk when you last entertained me here I feel the least I can do now is abstain.’

We both smiled, and suddenly against all the odds the spark of our compatibility flared between us. On an impulse he said: ‘I’m sorry I made such a mess of counselling you that night – I did want to help but I was so cut off from God by all my fear and dread that I had no help to give. I’m afraid it was a very great spiritual failure.’

‘We all have our spiritual failures.’

‘Well, make sure you learn from mine.’ He led the way to the door. ‘At least you’ve stopped asking impertinent questions,’ he said casually over his shoulder. ‘No doubt I should be thankful for small mercies.’

‘I could think of quite a few more impertinent questions to ask,’ I said, trying to match his lighter tone in order to soften my earlier severity, ‘but I see no reason on earth why you should answer them. You’re never going to tell anyone the real truth about your stepmother, are you?’

‘And what, dare I ask, do you consider “the real truth” to be?’

‘I think it was she who was the love of your life. No one else. I think Lyle was really only a substitute, someone your stepmother sanctioned when she knew she hadn’t long to live. I think if you’d really loved Lyle you couldn’t have lived chastely under the same roof with her at Radbury.’

‘What singularly bizarre theories you conjure up out of your singularly fertile imagination, Dr Ashworth!’

‘Life sometimes
is
bizarre, Dr Jardine –’

‘– and sometimes it’s merely innocent. Ingrid was my father’s wife. The story begins and ends in that single sentence.’

‘But what a complex and ambivalent sentence it is!’

Jardine smiled at me again. It was painful to see the amusement return to those hypnotic amber eyes when they were still bloodshot. It merely underlined the pathos I had no desire to witness. ‘So you’ve resumed your customary impertinence!’ he said. ‘I’m glad to see that you at least have emerged from our battle unscathed!’

BOOK: Glittering Images
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