Sidney Chambers and The Forgiveness of Sins (29 page)

‘And you are friends with Canon Clough?’

‘I have many friends. Just because I am not married, it doesn’t mean I don’t have companions. They’re all over the place. Not just here. I had a lot of them in London.’

‘I am sure you did.’

‘Many friends. Some living, some dead now.’

‘Good. Well, I should be getting on, Miss Newburn.’

‘Do you ever go to London?’

‘Not as much as I’d like.’

‘And who do you see when you go there? Do
you
have lots of friends?’

‘I suppose I do.’

‘Do you think you have more than me?’

‘I wouldn’t know.’

‘I wouldn’t think you did. I’ve got lots. I’ve seen that woman you are sometimes with. Not your wife. The other one. Is she your friend?’

‘Miss Kendall? Yes, she is.’

‘Is she your very good friend? Like Canon Clough and me?’

‘I wouldn’t know about that.’

‘Do you tell her everything? All your secrets?’

‘No, not really.’

‘But does she tell you all of hers?’

‘Sometimes. These are private matters, Miss Newburn.’

‘You can call me Virginia. I don’t mind. Not Ginny. Only Canon Clough calls me that. And my oldest friends. The ones I used to work with on the Row. Connie used to call me Ginny.’

‘Connie?’

‘She was married to your friend’s friend.’

‘Henry Richmond?’

‘That’s right. It was such a pity what happened.’

‘Yes, I can imagine. Although it’s never been quite clear to me . . .’

‘And now he’s marrying again. Five years gone. Like leaves off the trees. Everything bare. Do you think there were ever trees round here or has it always been flat? I don’t like them very much. They get in the way of the view. Do you like trees?’

‘Tell me, Miss Newburn, do you write a lot of letters?’

‘And why would I do that?’

‘To your many friends.’

‘Do you want me to write one for you? Is that what you are asking?’

‘No, I can do so myself.’

‘Can Miss Kendall?’

‘You know her name?’

‘You just told me. Can she write? Can she read?’

‘Yes, perfectly well.’

‘Perhaps you can ask her to write a letter for you then?’

‘No, I’ve said. I’m perfectly capable of writing my own.’

‘Then what are you asking me for?’

‘I was wondering if you had sent any letters to Miss Kendall?’

‘Why would I do that? She’s not one of my friends. I don’t write to people who aren’t my friends.’

‘So you’ve never written to her at all?’

‘No, I haven’t.’

‘Do you mean you know other people who have?’

‘Everyone writes letters, Canon Chambers. That’s why we have postmen. They know everything and everybody. Do you know many postmen? In your profession I expect you do. I bet you are always talking to postmen. Writing letters. Getting to know people. Finding out what’s going on. What makes people tick. What they like and don’t like. Who they love. What they do. When they die. All that. Then you probably write it down, don’t you, Canon Chambers? Sometimes, I imagine, you might even write a letter yourself. Do people like getting letters from you? Perhaps you’d like to write me a letter one day? Then I could write one back. We could
correspond
. Would you like to do that? It would be like in church, “the responses”, but we would do it by letter. What do you think? I could be your “co-respondent”. That’s a complicated word, isn’t it, Canon Chambers? It means different things.’

‘It depends if there’s a hyphen.’

‘It “depends” on quite a lot of things, Canon Chambers. The number of times you have the letter “r” is another thing. If you were in a divorce suit, charged with adultery and proceeded against together with “the respondent” or “wife”, you would have only one letter “r”. But if you were writing a letter to someone like me, for example, you would have two. We would be in mutual agreement if we were “in correspondence”; do you know Swedenborg has a
Doctrine of Correspondence
?’

‘The notion that every natural object symbolises or corresponds to some spiritual fact or principle . . .’

‘The sun represents God, light is truth, the stars are faith, warmth is love. Canon Clough told me all about it. Don’t you think it’s rather chilly today? It’s got colder since I’ve been speaking to you. That can’t be very good, can it? Cold is not love. Perhaps we shouldn’t correspond after all? One of the most important things about being a correspondent is how well people know one another. Some co-respondents don’t know each other at all. It’s just pretend. To save face. That’s a bit silly, don’t you think? Who’s got a face to save? We all die, don’t we?’

Sidney knew he had to get away from this woman but could sense that she was trying to tell him something important. ‘Do you think you have to know someone well, Miss Newburn, in order to write them a letter?’ he asked.

‘Not at all. “Dear Sir or Madam”. “Yours faithfully.” Only “Yours sincerely” when you address them by name. Then there is “With regards”. I’m not so partial to regards.’

‘And sometimes you don’t need to end a letter at all.’

‘What do you mean, Canon Chambers?’

‘People send notes. Sometimes they don’t even say who they are from.’

‘That would be very rude, though, wouldn’t it, Canon Chambers? Quite
aggressive
. You’d have to be quite annoyed with someone to write like that.’

‘And are you ever very annoyed with people, Miss Newburn?’

‘I can’t be, Canon Chambers. I am a Christian.’

‘There are angry Christians . . .’

‘But they’re not
my friends
, Canon Chambers. I only like to write to
my friends
.’

‘Or on behalf of them perhaps?’

‘No, I wouldn’t necessarily say that. I wouldn’t say that at all in fact. That wouldn’t be right.’

‘But might it be a possibility?’

‘Everything’s a possibility, Canon Chambers. There’s a
possibility
that a man lives in the moon and that it’s made of green cheese and that the Owl and the Pussycat jumped over it. There’s a
possibility
that you might be late for your next appointment, whoever it’s with, friend or even foe.’

‘I don’t think it’s anything like that. But I must get on. The mist is rising. I think day might even be warming up.’

‘Do you think there’s a
possibility
that your friend Miss Kendall will come here again? Perhaps
it’s possible
she’ll be wearing the same coat, or even a different one? And then it might even be
possible
that I’ve chosen the same one. There’s a
possibility
for everything when you think about it, don’t you agree, Canon Chambers?’ And then she was gone, lost in a swirl of mist. Byron stared after her, then turned for home.

Sidney was in one of those moods when all he wanted was an opportunity for silence, reflection, and probably some beautiful music. This was what his colleagues told him was the most important part of his job, and yet it was also the one that was easiest to overlook: time for God. There certainly wasn’t too much of that available at present, even if Amanda had telephoned to say that Henry was back in London and the threatening letters appeared to have stopped. He did not need to concern himself any more.

Sidney found it more alarming when people told him
not
to worry than when they told him to do so, and he certainly wasn’t going to let this case rest. When Amanda telephoned that evening he told her that he wanted to talk to Henry. The man should know what had been going on.

Amanda was having none of it. ‘I don’t see why we need to alarm him.’

Sidney was not so sure. ‘I think he needs to know that you have been scared. In any case, this may be a temporary respite. Henry might even be able to help if any of the threatening behaviour resumes.’

‘I don’t want to worry him, Sidney. He is in a much better mood than when he left and we are the best of friends.’

Amanda’s bright tone was unconvincing. ‘That’s good news,’ Sidney replied, thinking that a couple about to be married perhaps needed to be a little more than ‘the best of friends’. ‘You’ll be glad to have him back.’

‘I had forgotten how much he looks after me.’

(Not, Sidney thought, ‘how much he loves me’ or ‘how much I’ve missed him’.)

It was apparent that there was more to be said but neither he nor Amanda was prepared to come to the point. Yet Sidney could hardly pretend that nothing had happened. ‘I met the strangest woman on the Fens,’ he began.

His friend headed him off and her voice became brittle. ‘That doesn’t seem too out of the ordinary. Most of the people in your part of the world look like they still live underwater. They’re so pale and bloated.’

‘Not all of them, Amanda, but I’ll let that pass. Miss Newburn seemed to think the person sending you all the notes and letters might have been the postman.’

There was a long pause. The purpose of the conversation had been lost. Amanda was normally so chatty on the telephone but now she was distant. After several awkward seconds she asked: ‘Have you been discussing our affairs with strangers?’

‘No. But I thought she might be a suspect. She knew Henry’s first wife.’

‘Thousands did, apparently. She was a much-loved woman. I hope she’s not going to be a
Rebecca
-like act to follow. That film terrified me. Miss Newburn lives in Ely, you say? Have you told Keating?’

‘I’ve only just got home.’

‘What are you waiting for? She might be the one.’

‘Why are you suddenly interested again? You told me that the letters had stopped.’

‘Yes, I did. Of course.’

‘So there’s something else, Amanda.’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Please. Tell me.’

‘It’s silly really, but it’s also horrible. I don’t know how it’s happened.’

Amanda explained that a series of expensive items ‘on approval’ had been delivered to her home from Peter Jones. She hadn’t ordered any of them, but there was a dining table and eight chairs, a china service, a new canteen of cutlery, tablecloths, bed linen, and so many kitchen utensils she could have set up a restaurant.

‘I didn’t ask for any of it, Sidney.’

‘Then who did?’

‘That’s the issue. The delivery boys said they had been told that the order was from me. If I had a complaint I should go to the shop. So I did.’

‘And what did they say?’

‘I spoke to a very nice woman who said that it must have been a misunderstanding. If all the goods came back there would be no charge. That is what “on approval” means, but I didn’t care about that. I just wanted her to acknowledge that a different woman had made the order.’

‘And did she do that?’

‘She tried. She was polite. But I didn’t believe her. So I pressed her . . .’

‘You didn’t need to do that, Amanda.’

‘I asked her to tell me what she really thought. She said it didn’t matter about that. She would say whatever I liked, provided the goods were returned and I left without causing a scene.’

‘And are you sure,’ Sidney interrupted, ‘that you can’t have been mistaken, that the woman making the order can’t have been you?’

‘For heaven’s sake, Sidney! What do you take me for?’

‘I was just asking. I saw a woman who I thought was you . . .’

‘I am not going mad even if everyone is attempting to drive me round the bend. I have not been to Peter Jones for three weeks. I am almost scared to go out because someone always seems to know where I am; and I am frightened to stay at home in case more notes come, or there are even more horrible things that are about to happen . . .’

‘I know it must be difficult.’

‘Difficult? Is that all you can say?’

‘Yes, well . . .’

‘You don’t know ANYTHING, Sidney Chambers. You have NO IDEA what this is LIKE. How dare you phone me up with your sympathy . . .’

‘You telephoned me.’

‘I DID NOT.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Amanda, really . . .’

‘IT DOES MATTER. EVERYONE IS CONTRADICTING ME.’

Sidney had never known his friend to behave like this. He tried to pacify her. ‘I am not . . .’

‘YOU ARE. YOU JUST HAVE.’

‘Calm down, Amanda, please.’

‘HOW CAN I CALM DOWN? I JUST WANT ALL THIS TO STOP. I WANT TO BE ON MY OWN SO NO ONE CAN TROUBLE ME AND I WANT SOMEONE TO LOOK AFTER ME AT THE SAME TIME.’

‘I am sure we can talk about this calmly. Do you want me to come to London?’

‘NO.’

‘I am sure there is a logical explanation.’

‘THERE ISN’T. SOMEONE IS TRYING TO DRIVE ME MAD AND I DON’T KNOW WHO IT IS OR WHY THEY ARE DOING IT.’