Fabric of Sin (40 page)

‘Which might
partly
account for it.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Mervyn doesn’t like you, Merrily.’

‘He hardly knows me.’

‘Perhaps …’ Siân sipped her coffee ‘… he simply dislikes what you represent.’

Which couldn’t be womankind. Without the female clergy, this diocese would be in trouble. Merrily bit off another corner of her sandwich.

‘Neale’s a traditionalist,’ Siân said. ‘He doesn’t, on the surface, object to the women’s ministry, but he does expect us to keep a low profile.’

‘What, like you have?’

‘Well, yes, he
was
quite angry when it was suggested that I should shadow him for a month, with a view to possibly succeeding him when he retires.’

‘That’s on the cards, is it?’

‘I hope so. I think it’s something I could do.’

‘Mmm, I think it probably is.’

‘Because I’m a ruthless, ambitious bitch, presumably.’

Merrily leaned her head back against the oak panelling, shook her head, smiling faintly.
And you thought Gomer Parry was direct
.

‘You don’t like me, you don’t trust me,’ Siân said.

‘Siân, it’s not that I don’t
like
you—’ Merrily rolled her head against the panelling. ‘Oh God.’

‘You know what the problem is with Shirley West, don’t you?’

‘Sure, she thinks I’m some kind of chain-smoking punk priest who dabbles on the fringes of the occult.’

‘Well, that, too. But what it really comes down to is her ex-husband being distantly related to the man often said to be Britain’s most appalling serial murderer, ever.’

Merrily sat up, spilling her coffee.

‘
Fred
West?’

‘A sexual predator. And, of course, a Herefordshire man.’

‘Shirley told you this? How—? You’ve only been here a couple of days.’

‘Do calm down, Merrily, I’m not trying to take over your parish. I met Shirley West – Jane will tell you – I met her in the church last night. You’d hardly left before I had a phone call from Shirley asking to meet me. Jane – protecting your interests – eavesdropped on our meeting. Jane is … Well, how many teenage daughters would even spare the time? She’s a good girl, Merrily.’

‘I know.’

‘Shirley … was desperately eager to tell me about the evil to which you were exposing your Sunday-evening meditation group. Among other things.’

‘She made a bit of a scene on Sunday night. I didn’t handle it very well. Wasn’t feeling too good, actually.’

‘No, you didn’t look at all well when you left for Garway.’

‘Still, I should’ve made time to talk to her.’

‘If you made time for everybody, you wouldn’t sleep. However, as I explained to Jane, I was rather concerned that Shirley might be causing mischief where you really didn’t need it. So, when you … liberated me this morning, I decided to drop in on her, on that estate off New Barn Lane, not thinking she’d be at work. Her sister-in-law saw me and came out, and I identified myself and she invited me in for a cup of tea, and … I was there nearly three hours.’

‘Her sister-in-law … Joanna? I think I’ve met her once.’

‘Joanna Harvey. She doesn’t come to church, and in her place I suspect I’d probably stay away as well, or attend another one miles away. Shirley moved here after her divorce, to be near her older brother, Colin. After just a few months of Shirley as a neighbour, Joanna’s at the end of her tether. Desperately wants to move, just to get away from her, but Colin feels a certain family responsibility.’

‘All the things I ought to know.’

‘Shirley had been married seven years before discovering at a party that the late Frederick West had been some sort of distant cousin to her husband. Who hadn’t bothered to tell her – doubtless suspecting the effect it might have. An effect evidently worsened by the way Shirley found out and the thoughtless jokes about what might be under the concrete patio that Colin had made. It preyed on her mind, becoming an obsession. She came to believe that her husband was tainted by evil. That evil hung over the family.’

For a shortish man, Fred West had thrown a long shadow.

Merrily said. ‘His brother John was facing a rape charge when he hanged himself, exactly the way Fred had. Other members of the family have suffered emotional damage with predictable effects on their domestic situations. But … there are dozens of perfectly normal, well-balanced Wests …’

‘It’s clear that Shirley herself has psychiatric problems.’

‘Though not immediately clear to me, apparently,’ Merrily said.

‘She moved into a separate bedroom from her husband, accusing him of unnatural sexual behaviour. He worked – still works, presumably – for a feed dealer, making deliveries to farms, and she accused him of having a relationship with two sisters who had a smallholding. Entirely unfounded, according to Joanna. There’s more, but you get the idea.’

‘Oh God.’

‘She washes her clothes compulsively. She doesn’t watch television and she doesn’t read newspapers because of the filth they transmit. She began going to church for the first time since childhood about four years ago … obsessively. She joined Christian internet chat groups, particularly in America. Before moving here, she used to attend services
at Leominster Priory, where she attached herself to a curate – Tom Dover?’

‘I knew him slightly. He moved on.’

‘And faster than he might have normally. Shirley would insist on doing his washing – washing his vestments, in particular. He’s still a curate, near Swindon. I called him on my mobile about an hour ago. He said he felt guilty – ought to have told someone about Shirley.’

‘But she’s a professional woman. Branch manager at a bank.’

‘Where, according to Joanna Harvey, she frequently offers unsought moral and spiritual advice to customers. Having kept her married name as a sort of penance. You really should be more careful, Merrily, especially after your problem some time ago with Jenny Driscoll. As I suggested to Jane, this is not an uncommon situation, particularly for women priests.’

‘I realize that. What do you suggest?’

‘She needs guidance.
Not
someone like our friend Nigel Saltash, but I do know a person – a psychiatric nurse and a churchgoer who I
would
have suggested as suitable for your deliverance team if I didn’t think you’d be suspicious of anyone proposed by me.’

Merrily sighed. ‘Siân—’

‘And yes, after Saltash, I can accept that. One reason why I elected to be your locum – if I do become Archdeacon, I’d hate us to start on the wrong foot, due to … misconceptions. I accept we have theological differences, but I respect what you’ve achieved. Against the odds.’

‘Siân, I …’ Merrily found she’d finished both her cheese sandwich and her coffee. She felt like a real drink. ‘I don’t know what to say any more.’

‘No need to say anything at all,’ Siân said. ‘Because I haven’t finished yet.’

Siân had been the Archdeacon’s shadow for a month. Learning the ropes. Learning many things.

‘You know he’s a Freemason.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

On the edge of a minefield here. It had often seemed to Merrily
that paranoia about Masonic influence was exaggerated; she’d never had any problems, never really had cause to notice the Masons, although she was aware there
were
some in the Church. Besides, it was in decline, wasn’t it? All the existing Masons getting on in years, very little new blood.

‘Freemasons claim to be Christian,’ Siân said. ‘Although you would be hard-pressed to find, within Masonic dogma, any recognition of Christ. There’s a very interesting book by a former vicar of New Radnor who’d become a Mason in – he maintains – all innocence and began to find it alarmingly incompatible. Have you read that?’

‘No.’

‘I’ll send you a copy. Making my own position on this quite clear from the outset … as a barrister I came up against it time and time again. I made a point of learning the Masonic signals so that I could spot them in court. You’d be surprised how often I saw them directed towards the bench, from the dock, and I still believe it’s one of the best arguments we have for more women judges.’

‘And women Archdeacons?’

Siân didn’t smile.

‘And women Bishops,’ she said.

The bar noise meshed into white noise, the lights receding into a single point of light. Merrily pushed her plate to one side, her coffee cup to the other.

‘What are you saying?’

Siân –
even Siân
– looked around at the handful of customers. Merrily spotted a couple of farmers she knew slightly and James Bull-Davies, former Army officer. OK, surely?

‘The position of Bernard Dunmore is an ambivalent one,’ Siân said. ‘He was a Freemason, many years ago. Like a number of clergy, he apparently became aware of an incompatibility and hasn’t had anything to do with the Craft in years.’

‘But …?’

‘He’s never actually renounced Masonry. And, as far as I can tell, I don’t
think
he’s ever formally left.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘I think you’ll just have to accept that I do. Call it a nervous hangover from my years at the Bar.’

‘And what does it mean?’

‘I wasn’t sure it meant anything. In his allocation of livings, the Bishop appears to have been fairness itself. Doesn’t seem to have been unduly influenced by Mervyn Neale, although obviously reliant, to some extent, on his organizational recommendations.’

‘And the Archdeacon?’

‘Nothing I can prove, although perhaps I will one day. He doesn’t like you. Doesn’t like deliverance, as a ministry, and he doesn’t like the way you handle it, the way you’ve widened the brief. I don’t think— What have I said?’

‘This morning, the Bishop told me I’d displayed a tendency to go
beyond the brief
. Like they’re all saying the same things.’

‘I do know he’s had a number of meetings with the Archdeacon in the past few days – far more contact than in any of the weeks since I’ve been shadowing Neale.’

We unleashed you
.

And now we’re reining you in.

‘You’re fully aware of what I’ve been working on? In Garway.’

‘I think so. And I think it might well be relevant. Your attitude on the phone this morning was rather extraordinary.’

‘I was … in a state of shock.’

‘Evidently. It made me wonder what on earth the Bishop had said to you.’

‘He …’

It all began to tumble forward, the rape, the cover-up, the desperate need to tell somebody, just to stay sane. She held it back all the same.

‘You don’t
have
to tell me,’ Siân said.

‘He trotted out the usual stuff about the dangers of deliverance being connected with yet another murder. Which is valid enough. But then he said the Duchy of Cornwall also wanted me to forget it. I rang the Duchy. He’d lied. Why would he do that?’

‘I don’t know. He might simply have developed cold feet. Are you going to do what he says?’

‘Erm …’ Merrily sat back. ‘Siân, this might be a naive question, but if you
were
to expose Mervyn Neale as having used Masonic influence in the course of his executive work in the Diocese, how would that affect your chances of getting his job?’

‘That’s a very interesting point.’ Siân smiled, mouth only. ‘I imagine I could say goodbye to the job. Even if the Church wanted to make a point of distancing itself from Freemasonry, appointing me, in the wake of a scandal – even if it were only an internal one – might be seen as a step too far. It’s still a conservative organization.’

‘But you’d still do it, if you had the evidence?’

‘First and foremost, I’m a Christian,’ Siân said. ‘Of course I’d do it.
Are
you going along with what the Bishop wants?’

‘No.’

‘Then you’ll need support,’ Siân said. ‘Or you could, very soon, find you’ve become a very small footnote in ecclesiastical history.’

‘Huw Owen said much the same.’

‘Interesting.’ Siân looked at her watch, frowned and rose to her feet. ‘You trust him, don’t you?’

‘I used to trust the Bishop.’

‘It’s a slippery slope, Merrily. Letting trust slip away.’

‘You lose some, you … win some?’

‘Yes. I suppose you do.’ Siân picked up her bag, the kind of doctor’s bag that exorcists were often assumed to carry. ‘When we get outside, however. I’d really rather you
didn’t
hug me.’

Merrily smiled.

‘But get help,’ Siân said. ‘I implore you.’

‘I’
VE BEEN TELLING
Jane about my car accident,’ Mrs Morningwood said, quite softly, looking at Merrily, ‘And how you came to my rescue.’

‘Mmm.’ Merrily frowned. ‘Sometimes people just happen to be in the right place at the right time.’

Jane and Mrs Morningwood were on the sofa, Roscoe stretched across both their knees, Ethel the cat watching warily from the edge of the hearth, where the fire glowed red and orange through a collapsing scaffold of coal and logs.

Merrily wondered how to get rid of Jane.

‘And other stuff,’ Jane said. ‘You thought much about the significance of the number nine, Mum?’

‘John Lennon always liked it. “Revolution Nine”, “Number Nine Dream”. Jane, I wonder if—’

‘In the Garway context. The Nine Witches of Garway. Why
nine
?’

‘It’s three squared. The trinity?’

‘And the sacred number of the Druids. But the point is, the number nine was also a sacred number of the Templars. When they first started out in Jerusalem, there were supposed to have been nine of them. Which, when you think about it, is ridiculous. Nine knights to protect all the pilgrims in the Holy Land?’

‘Maybe it was just the nine senior knights, with a lot of armed underlings.’

‘Nah, symbolic. Gotta be. Also – get this – nine Templars were required to form a commandery – like at Garway? Plus the order was in existence for 180 years, which, like … one plus eight equals nine.’

‘Sometimes, Jane, I think that without the internet the world would be a happier and less confusing place.’

‘OK, I’ll skip some of the other examples and cut to the chase. The burning of Jacques de Molay. He died on 18 March – one and eight? In the year 1314, one … three … one … four. Do the math, as they say.’