Absolute Truths (76 page)

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Authors: Susan Howatch

Tags: #Historical, #Psychological, #Sagas, #Fiction

BOOK: Absolute Truths
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XI

 


The biggest mistake I made,’ I said, ‘was that I refused to face up
to my ambivalent feelings about the adoption and in my efforts
to repress them I’ve been treating Charley in a way which did him
no favours.’

‘But you slobbered over him continuously!’


Yes, it was very unnatural. Real fathers get angry with their
children sometimes. As you well know.’


Lucky old Charley, being spared all the screaming matches!’


On the contrary, Charley wasn’t lucky at all. He sensed the
ambivalence and became chronically insecure. You should feel
sorry for him.’


How can one feel sorry for someone who’s so nauseatingly
priggish? I can’t even begin to describe how he carried on when
he caught Holly wearing my dressing-gown! He even took Emma-
Louise out to a coffee-bar later and tried to pump her for infor
mation about how long the affair had been going on.’


I’m afraid he’s anxious to curry favour with me by being a
model of chastity.’

‘Well, at least I was never tempted to do that!’


No, but that’s because you’ve always known that blood was
rhicker than water. Have you ever spent a single moment agonising
about whether or not I regarded you
as a
son?’


Well, no, not exactly ... I mean, no, of course not. But don’t
think I haven’t done my share of agonising! The main problem was that you never listened. You never listened when I tried to
explain why I liked pop music, why I liked Marina’s Coterie, why
I was interested in the theatre and television. Pop music was just
"rubbish" to you, my friends were a "fast
set",
going for a career
in the arts was "not the done thing" –’

‘I’m sorry.’


– and you never grasped that pop music’s full of the joy of
life, you never acknowledged that my friends arc intelligent and
amusing and bloody good fun, you never saw that a career in the
arts can be ... Hang on, there’s a smell of burning coming from
somewhere. Could the house be on fire?’

I remembered the steak-and-kidney pie and rushed to the
kitchen.

 

XII

 


Never mind,’ said Michael
as
we surveyed the charred remnants
in the oven. ‘I’m not hungry.’


But we should both try and eat. Think of the meal as an aid to
survival in a time of danger.’


I’d only vomit.’


In that
case we’ll eat
here in the kitchen and you can sit next
to the sink.’ After inspecting the larder I selected a large tin of
baked beans and set it down on the counter.


And Spam,’ said Michael behind me. ‘I can’t have baked beans
without Spam.’ Presumably this yearning for the drab post-war
diet of his childhood represented a desire to regress to happier
days.

I was just reaching for the tin of Spam when we both heard the
sound of the front door bang far away in the hall.

‘Who’s that?’ whispered Michael startled.

It’s either one of the chaplains or Miss Peabody. No one else
has a key except Charley.’ I abandoned the larder. ‘Roger?’ I called
sharply. ‘Is that you?’

There was no reply. I hesitated, not only surprised by the silence but unnerved by it. ‘Who’s there?’ I shouted again, but even before
the footsteps sounded in the hall I knew what had happened.

I froze, and although beside me Michael hissed urgently: ‘Who
is it, who is it ...’ I did not answer. I was too busy remembering
the scene last weekend when Charley had told tales to me of
Michael. I could hear Charley’s voice clearly, and
as
soon as I
remembered him mentioning Nadia’s name I grasped the hidden
dimension of Michael’s narrative, the dimension which now made
Charley’s arrival at the South Canonry inevitable.

The door opened. We stood facing each other beneath the stark
kitchen lights, and when I saw his expression I knew I had not
misunderstood what had happened. Contrary to Michael’s belief, it was not Emma-Louise who had told Holly about Michael’s new
affair. And it was not Emma-Louise who had felt driven to go on
a crusade against fornication with a fervour which was a distorted
reflection of my own.

 

 

 

FOUR


The old women like to say that what happened was all for
the
best. They are probably wrong ... It is a special revelation of
God’s divine power that he
is
able to bring some good out
of evil. But his use of evil for good ends does not immediately
st
erilise
it;
it continues to breed aft
er its own kind.’

AUSTIN FARRER

Warden of Keble College, Oxford,

1960-1968

Love Almighty and Ill
s
Unlimited

 

 

 

 

I

 


Charley!’ exclaimed Michael. He, at least, was astonished.
Charley seemed
equally
amazed to see him, and I realised that
Michael’s presence,
as
unforeseen as it was unwelcome, had con
fused him so much that he was uncertain what to do next. All he
said in the end was: ‘You’ve told him?’


Yes. But hang on —’ Michael too began to look confused. °Told
him what?’

‘About Holly. Emma-Louise phoned me.’


But why should Emma-Louise —’ Michael broke off. As the
expression in his eyes changed I knew I had to intervene. ‘Sit
down, Charley,’ I said. ‘You look as if you’re about to pass out.
Michael —’

But Michael was already saying to Charley with horror: ‘It was
you, wasn’t it? It was you, not Emma-Louise, who told Holly about
me and Nadia —’

‘I was only trying to help.’

‘You were only trying to WHAT?’

‘I meant it all for the best —’


I could kill you!’ shouted Michael. The chance to expel his guilt
on to another made him sound almost delirious with the anger
which masked his subconscious relief. ‘And you killed her
as
surely
as if you’d slashed her wrists yourself!’

I expected to hear the retort that if Michael had behaved more
responsibly Holly might still be alive, but Charley was too shat
tered to attempt a reply. Taking control of the conversation I
said without raising my voice: ‘The way forward isn’t to make accusations of murder. The way forward is to find out exactly what’s happened. Michael, get the brandy, please.’

Michael was clearly unwilling to allow his anger to be defused but the thought of brandy diverted him. He departed for the
drawing-room, and as soon as he had gone Charley whispered to
me desperately: ‘I can’t talk about it in front of him, I can’t. It’s
too shaming.’

‘He’s got to know.’

‘You tell him for me!’

‘He’ll still want to discuss it with you. Much better to tell him yourself now when I’m here to keep order.’


But I can’t – look, you’ve just got to let me off the hook –’


No.’


But –’


No.
That’s what I’d say to Michael if he stood now in your
shoes. That’s what I’d say to my own flesh and blood and in future
I’m going to treat you as Pd treat him.’

He stared at me. His eyes, normally such a pale shade of brown
that they often seemed golden, were now the colour of dark wet
sand. His white face had a pinched look. He was very still.


No need to panic,’ I said, feeling panic-stricken, ‘but we can’t
go on as we are. There’s got to be a change.’

‘I don’t understand. Are you saying –’


You’ve always wanted me to treat you as a son, haven’t you?
Well, this is it. I apologise for the lack of sentimental dialogue and
soaring violins. Now sit down, show some guts and let’s all try to
survive this tragedy instead of using it to beat each other to pieces.’
And producing two glasses from the cupboard I slammed them down on the kitchen table.

Michael, who had returned in time to hear my last sentence, sat
down opposite Charley. I poured out the brandy for them; how
I kept my promise to Jon and resisted the longing to pour ameasure for myself I shall never know. Finally I said to Charley: Now explain exactly what happened so that we can understand the way your mind was working and make allowances for you.’ And to Michael 1 added: ‘Every time you feel like hitting him,
remind yourself that other people might feel like hitting you – but
make sure you remember too that ultimately no one’s unforgivable.’

The newly-lit cigarette began to tremble between Michael’s fingers.

Charley began to speak in a rapid voice.

 

 

 

 

II

 

Addressing his narrative to me as if he could not bear to accept
that Michael was present, Charley said: ‘I knew Michael was having
an affair with Holly because I found her wearing his dressing-gown
at his flat. I thought it was quite wrong that he should treat Holly
as he treated Dinkie. Holly was ... different. I began to worry about her. I thought that maybe, as I was a clergyman, I had a moral duty to do something.’

Michael made a disgusted noise but I said sharply: ‘Be quiet,’ and he obeyed.


I arranged to meet Emma-Louise for coffee,’ said Charley. ‘I
felt I needed to find out if Holly wanted to marry Michael. The
affair itself might be brand new, but as long ago as Venetia’s party
last November I’d noticed Holly looking at Michael as if she were
in love with him – and in fact Emma-Louise said yes, Holly was madly in love and marriage was definitely on the cards because
‘Michael was exhausted by the Dinkie mess and probably ready to
settle down. But I knew Michael wouldn’t be interested in marry
ing Holly. He’d just picked her up as a rest-cure. She wasn’t really
his sort of girl at all.


I was still thinking about what I could do to save Holly when
Emma-Louise suggested another meeting in the coffee-bar. She
was upset because she’d found out that her friend Nadia was also
carrying on with Michael, and she was very worried about the effect this might have on Holly – she asked me to have a word
with Michael to try to get him to see sense and behave decently.


But I knew Michael wasn’t interested in behaving decently.


I told Emma-Louise I’d have a word with him, but in fact I had no intention of doing so. That was because in my view it
wasn’t Michael who had to be severed from Nadia but Holly who had to be severed from Michael.’ With his elbows on the table he
pressed his hands against his cheeks
as
if he could push back his
shame, and fell silent as if unable to phrase what had to be said
next. Opposite him Michael might have been carved in stone, and
it was 1 who finally said to Charley: ‘No doubt you thought you
had to be cruel only to be kind.’

Charley managed to nod. He seemed relieved by my neutral
tone of voice. ‘I knew I’d hurt her by telling her what was going
on, but I honestly thought that if she did want to marry Michael
I’d be doing her a favour by pointing out that fidelity wasn’t his
strong suit.’

Michael abandoned his role of stone statue. ‘Why, you priggish,
self-righteous –’


Be honest, Michael,’ I interrupted, not unkindly, as I moved to
muzzle this explosion of unhelpful rage. ‘Do you really think a
disinterested observer would declare fidelity to be your strong suit?’

Before Michael could reply Charley said to him defiantly: ‘I
thought it was my moral duty as a priest to wean her from this
grand illusion which was distorting her judgement.’


You mean you were determined to smash up your brother’s
affair with this girl and you succeeded,’ I said, again speaking not
unkindly. ‘As for your moral duty, I think it best to set aside for the moment all discussion of your motives. Just concentrate on
completing your story.’

Charley’s defiance evaporated. He whispered: ‘I’m not sure I
can bear to describe it.’


Think of it as something you can do to help Michael come to
terms with what’s happened. Think of it,’ I said colourlessly, ‘as
your duty as a priest.’

At once Charley said in an uneven voice: ‘I phoned Holly and
asked if I could come round to her flat to talk to her – she’d said
that Marina and Emma-Louise were out, In the end I just said
that Michael was "seeing" Nadia. Holly said did I mean "sleeping
with" and I said it seemed likely, in fact very likely, in fact certain.
I was trying to break the news gently to her – like one’s supposed
to break news of a death –’


You make me want to vomit all over you,’ said Michael.
‘Before you get too angry,’ I said, ‘remember that you were
rather less tactful to her later. Go on, Charley.’


She seemed to take it quite well. Of course I did realise that
she’d need support in building a new life, so I invited her to
St Mary’s and ...’ He faltered but drove himself on ‘... and I
gave her some pamphlets.’


Pamphlets?’ said Michael with revulsion as if Charley had con
fessed to infecting Holly with some unmentionable disease. ‘What
kind of pamphlets?’


Just some stuff I’d written and mimeographed ... about Chris
tianity ... and how Jesus saves ... by bringing new life ...’ He
finally ground to a halt.


God Almighty!’ exploded Michael. ‘You mean you smashed up
this girl and then sent her on her way with a bunch of bloody
clichés?’


Shut up!’ bawled Charley, covering his face with his hands in
a paroxysm of grief and shame.


Charley certainly made a catastrophic pastoral error,’ I said to
Michael, ‘but we all make catastrophic errors, pastoral or other
wise, as I’m sure you’d be the first to agree.’


I got it wrong,’ said Charley, rubbing the tears from his face.
‘I got it wrong. I should have ditched the pamphlets, stayed with
her, given her the support she needed –’


You should never have bloody meddled with her in the first
place!’ yelled Michael, and Charley, losing all control, yelled back:
‘And you should never have bloody meddled with her either!’


Since you’re both being so refreshingly honest,’ I said, ‘I hardly
think I can do less than acknowledge my own part in this disaster.
I was responsible for your upbringing. If I’d brought you up a
little better no doubt we wouldn’t now be sitting around this table
and putting one another through hell.’

They were dumbfounded.

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