Glittering Images (9 page)

‘But surely wasn’t this a good thing? Isn’t it better for a woman to start married life without a stepmother-in-law breathing down her neck?’

‘Of course. Carrie was thrilled. But Jardine was dreadfully upset. He adored this stepmother, although God knows why – she was twenty years older than he was and she weighed sixteen stone and she had very pale eyes and a very thin mouth and she spoke with a very heavy foreign accent – oh, she was
sinister,
she really was! After the row I thought she’d refuse to come to the wedding but she turned up looking wrathful – what a deathshead at the feast! The poor sister was hardly cheerful cither – she wept throughout the service, but at least she was only crying out of sentimentality. I liked the sister. Poor thing, what a wretched life she had! She died of cancer eventually, of course. I say “of course” because she was the sort of person who inevitably dies of something beastly … But I must stop digressing. You’re being wonderfully patient, Dr Ashworth, but I really am getting to the baby now, I promise –’

‘Don’t apologize, Lady Starmouth. I’m enrapt by the sinister stepmother.’

‘Well, after the wedding she sank into darkest Putney, thank God, and the Jardines floated off on their honeymoon. When they came back Carrie immediately started planning the nursery, so of course we all thought … But nothing happened. However finally the baby started. We were all so relieved, and no one was more relieved than Jardine – apart from Carrie herself, of course. He started talking to Henry about which schools the child should go to and Carrie started adding the finishing touches to the heavenly nursery – oh, what a mistake it is to count one’s chickens before they’re hatched! Eventually the worst happened and the baby – a boy – was born dead.’

Lady Starmouth paused as if to choose her next words with care. ‘I wonder how I can convey to you how dreadful this was for the Jardines. Of course a dead baby is always a tragedy, but in this case … You see, Carrie was so absolutely sure that her one talent was for motherhood. It’s not easy for any woman to be married to a brilliant man and Carrie thought that motherhood would give her the chance to excel in a way which would command Jardine’s very special respect. And Jardine himself was longing for a family. He wanted to recreate the family life which he could remember existing before his mother died – a life which he’d almost certainly idealized but which represented to him some intensely desirable goal of domestic bliss. So both he and Carrie were united by these very urgent and powerful dreams – and that was why it was so terrible when the stillborn child tore those dreams apart.’

She paused again and I allowed the silence to lengthen to signal my sympathy before I asked, ‘There were no other children?’

‘No, and in a way that was the ghastliest part of all because no doctor could tell her why nothing happened. So she went on hoping and so did he – in fact Alex once told me he went on hoping until … well, until no hope was possible any more. There! I’m calling him Alex – very improper, isn’t it, to call a man by his Christian name when he’s not a member of one’s family, but I’ve known him so long now and we’re such good friends and Henry doesn’t mind if I call Jardine “Alex” occasionally … I expect you’ve wondered about my friendship with the Bishop, haven’t you!’ she added, giving me an indulgent smile. ‘Perhaps you’re even a little shocked!’

‘Not at all, I’m deeply envious! I’ve heard about Dr Jardine’s so-called Lovely Ladies, and obviously you’re the Lovely Ladies’ Leader!’

She laughed. ‘I simply must add you to my clerical collection!’ she said. ‘You’re such an exceptionally charming listener!’

‘I could listen to you indefinitely, Lady Starmouth. Tell me more.’

She sighed. ‘It really is too dreadful how little encouragement I need … But what shall I tell you next? I’ve told you about the ghastly background and the romantic marriage and the stillborn child –’

‘Strike a lighter note,’ I said, ‘and tell me about Dr Jardine’s Lovely Ladies.’

‘Of course Alex has numerous acquaintances among the opposite sex,’ said Lady Starmouth, adding another line to the obscure pattern on her sketchpad, ‘but there are only three of us who could truly be described as friends. We all met him in 1916 during his first year as Vicar of St Mary’s.’

I was immediately intrigued. ‘Why was he so prone to friendship in 1916?’

‘Moving to Mayfair was a huge change for him, and at first he was very lonely and unsure of himself.’

‘Who are the other two ladies?’

‘Sybil Welbeck and Enid Markhampton. Alex liked us because we were all absolutely safe – happily married, churchgoing women, firmly anchored to the conventions … Heavens, how dull that sounds! But we’re all tolerably amusing, I promise you –’

‘You hardly need to assure me of that, Lady Starmouth, but what amazes me is Dr Jardine’s luck in finding three safe Lovely Ladies all at once! Did he never add to his collection?’

‘No,’ said Lady Starmouth, examining the point of her pencil. ‘He didn’t.’

‘Was that because he felt you were all so incomparable that no other woman was fit to join your ranks?’

We laughed before Lady Starmouth said easily, ‘He married soon after he met us, and perhaps he was afraid Carrie wouldn’t take too kindly to any new close friends of the opposite sex.’

‘Speaking as a clergyman,’ I said, ‘I find the whole idea of close friendships with married women fraught with the most hair-raising possibilities.’

‘Ah, but you’re of a different generation, aren’t you?’ said Lady Starmouth. ‘Such friendships may seem strange now but when I was young they weren’t so unusual. The War changed so many things, and one of the first casualties of the new freedom afterwards was the concept of the
amitié amoureuse.’

‘Nevertheless I can’t help thinking that if I’d been Dr Jardine I might have had a hard time preventing myself from falling in love with one of you.’

Lady Starmouth gave another indulgent smile but answered seriously, ‘I can assure you that Alex has never been in love with either Enid or Sybil or me. At the risk of sounding horribly snobbish, I’ll say that we’re not in the league which he would consider accessible as far as the ultimate intimacies are concerned.’

I was again much intrigued. ‘I’m not sure I understand you,’ I said, wondering how I could lure her on over such delicate ground, but Lady Starmouth had no need to be lured. I had forgotten that the aristocracy, unlike the middle classes, fail to find the subject of sex embarrassing.

‘When Alex was growing up,’ she said, ‘the women in his life were – at most – lower-middle-class. Then his years up at Oxford gave him enough confidence to marry an upper-middle-class girl like Carrie Cobden-Smith. But I think if he’d been offered the chance of deep intimacy with someone from the aristocracy, he’d have backed away. He’d have found the prospect too intimidating.’

I knew at once that this was a vital detail in the portrait I was constructing of Jardine. The Bishop was safe with his Lovely Ladies, not necessarily because of any indestructible virtue on his part, but because there was a psychological barrier keeping him in check. Jardine would be aware of this; a clergyman is taught to know himself well so that he may learn the best way to control his weaknesses and Jardine, liking the company of the opposite sex, would only have trusted himself with women whom he felt were ultimately beyond his reach.

‘Talking of lovely ladies,’ said Lady Starmouth, adding another line to her sketch, ‘have you fallen in love with Miss Christie?’

‘Miss Christie!’ I was so startled that I sat bolt upright.

‘I saw the smouldering looks you were giving her in the drawing-room last night. My dear Dr Ashworth, will you allow me to take advantage of my numerous years of seniority by giving you some friendly advice? Don’t bother with Miss Christie. She’s spent the last decade proving she’s quite uninterested in men.’

I said lightly, ‘She doesn’t nurse a secret passion for the Bishop?’

‘I suspect it’s much more likely she nurses a secret passion for Carrie.’

I exclaimed appalled, ‘But that’s impossible!’

‘My poor Dr Ashworth, you
are
smitten, aren’t you! Of course I’m not implying the passion’s reciprocated – Carrie adores Alex. But you tell me this: why is an attractive intelligent girl like Miss Christie content to remain as a companion when she’s had numerous proposals, some of them from very eligible men?’

I said suddenly, ‘How do the Jardines explain Miss Christie’s continuing spinsterhood?’

‘Well, the official story is that she suffered a broken engagement before she met them, and that this left her perpetually disenchanted with the opposite sex. But I find that hard to believe – Miss Christie strikes me as the sort of woman who would consider it a matter of pride to recover completely from a broken engagement.’

‘Does Dr Jardine ever talk to you about her?’

‘Her name comes up occasionally, but not as much as it used to. Of course there have been moments in the past when he’s found the situation a bore.’

I sensed we were approaching the difficulties of a married couple who had to live in close proximity to a third party. ‘A bore?’ I repeated, anxious to lure her on again. ‘Why was that?’

‘Oh, I’m afraid it’s class again! Alex didn’t grow up in a house where certain employees lived
en famille
and the presence of a third party tended to grate on his nerves, but fortunately the move to Starbridge seems to have solved that particular problem. There’s more space here for third parties than there was in the Deanery at Radbury – and besides, when all’s said and done the Jardines’ marriage is quite successful enough to withstand the presence of a stranger … Dr Ashworth, my husband’s waving at you. I expect he’s getting bored with the fish and wants to be diverted – but come back and see me again after you’ve entertained him!’

We exchanged smiles. I said, ‘Am I securely in your collection now?’ and when she laughed I scrambled to my feet, dusted some flecks of grass from my trousers and strolled off down the garden to interview my next witness.

‘I was hoping a little conversation would disturb the fish,’ said the Earl as I approached. ‘They all seem to be either asleep or dead.’

Beyond the river the herd of cows was grazing again in the meadows. It was a very English scene which the Earl in his country clothes enhanced, and as I leant against the trunk of the nearest willow I was once more aware of the subtle allure of Starbridge as the morning melted into a shimmering afternoon. It was a day conducive to mirages. I was conscious not only that I was a clergyman pretending to be a spy – or was I a spy pretending to be a clergyman? – but that the Earl was a great landowner pretending to be a humble fisherman. The Earl himself, with his open countenance, looked as if he were a stranger to play-acting, but the atmosphere of that Starbridge noon was reminding me how hard it was to know the truth about even the simplest individuals.

‘I daresay my wife’s been chatting to you about the Bishop in an effort to ensure you weren’t put off by last night’s glimpse of the rough diamond,’ the Earl was saying. ‘He was undoubtedly a rough diamond when we first knew him, but he’s got plenty of gentlemanly polish nowadays when he puts his mind to it.’

‘He certainly put his mind to it over the port … Were you disconcerted, Lord Starmouth, when a rough diamond turned up at St Mary’s in 1916?’

The Earl smiled. ‘I was more intrigued than disconcerted.’

‘You hadn’t met him before?’

‘No, but I’d heard of him. He was always writing letters to
The Times.
However I had little idea what sort of man he was until I came home from my club one night and my wife told me the new Vicar had called. She said, “He’s got beautiful yellow eyes and a harsh ugly voice and he’s not sure how to behave and I’m mad about him!” Well, my wife’s always had a soft spot for clergymen so I didn’t take her too seriously, but then next Sunday when he preached his first sermon I suddenly saw what all the fuss was about. I was used to dozing during the sermons, but this time I stayed awake all the way through – and in fact at the end I was sitting on the edge of my pew. Damn it, I can even remember the text! It was: “I am not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance”, and when he was hammering home his message his voice seemed to make the church vibrate and his eyes glowed like a cat’s. Extraordinary. Of course I saw at once he was going to go a long way.’

‘What did you think when you had the chance for a private conversation with him?’

‘I was surprised how shy he was – shy and awkward. He spoke all right; Oxford had ironed out any suburban accent, but he had the trick of either talking too much and too aggressively or else not talking at all. However that was just nervousness. Once my wife took him up and petted him and tried to marry him off he very quickly blossomed. All he needed was a bit of social self-confidence.’

‘Perhaps Oxford had given him a chip on his shoulder.’

‘More than likely, yes. The Varsity can be hard going for someone who doesn’t have the right background – well, I must admit to a bit of prejudice against him myself during the early days of our acquaintance, but then one day he spoke up to me; it was a criticism, a justifiable criticism too, I might add, and suddenly I thought: it took courage to say that. And I respected him for it. He was no sycophant. He was willing to accept a bit of patronage in the form of my wife’s kindness but he wasn’t going to let that stop him speaking the truth as he saw it. Very exceptional. A man of high moral principle. He’s deserved his great success.’