Absolute Truths (48 page)

‘
My God!’ I said aloud before my brain could substitute a more
fitting exclamation. Backing away from the door I almost tripped
over the fallen table. I picked it up, retrieved the objects which
lived on it — a glass bowl, miraculously intact, and a silver snuff-box
— and sat down in the armchair in order to tug on the shoes I had
discarded. In less fraught circumstances I might have viewed the
situation with a touch of black humour, but at that moment I was
entirely preoccupied with framing a suitable apology to offer Sheila
who, having heard the crash of the table, soon entered the room.
She was wearing a long, caramel-coloured dressing-gown which
concealed all but the collar of her nightdress.

‘
Sheila! My dear, what can I say —’

‘Please don’t worry — I could see you were very tired.’

‘
But what appalling manners I’ve displayed! I descend on you
without warning, talk almost entirely about myself and finally
encourage you to make an omelette only to pass out before I can
eat it! What on earth can you possibly be thinking of me?’

‘
I assure you it doesn’t matter in the least —’

‘
It matters to me. I’ll leave at
once
. My car’s in Mayfair, but I’m
sure I’Il find an all-night taxi —’

‘
Oh, don’t be so silly, Charles! You can’t struggle over to Mayfair
at this time of night and then drive all the way back to
Starbridge
!
Look, the sofa opens out into a bed. Let me make it up so that
you can spend the rest of the night in comfort. Would you like a
bath? Or tea?’

‘Which?’

‘I don’t know. Sheila, it’s most kind of you, but —’

‘
Don’t worry, I’m not about to have hysterics just because I’m alone with a stranded bishop at a scandalous hour! You go and
have a bath while I make the tea.’

‘I just don’t know what to say —’

"Very well" is the answer you require.’

Finally reduced to acquiescence I allowed myself to be steered to the bathroom where I was abandoned with a large white towel.
I turned on the taps of the bath. Water appeared. After staring at
it for some seconds I realised I was thirsty so I filled a tooth
mug
with cold water from the basin, but before I could drink I saw
that I had forgotten to put the plug in the bath. Evidently I was
still in a state of
great confusion.

Making a new effort to concentrate, I put in the plug, drank
the water, bolted the door, shed my clothes and embarked on the
demanding task of regulating the temperature of the bath. By the
time I was soaking myself I felt more alert. I noted that the room was immensely clean and that on a glass shelf there was a jar of bath-salts which reminded me of Lyle. Yet the reminder was not
painful. On the contrary, I found this symbol of a feminine presence comforting.

Having hauled myself out of the water I wondered how many
of my clothes I should put on. I could hardly emerge wearing nothing but a towel tucked around my waist, but on the other
hand it would be stupid to dress as if I were about to step into
the street. This unusual problem of etiquette intrigued me for well
over a minute but at last I put on my shirt and trousers and
emerged barefoot into the hall. In the drawing-room the sofa had
been transformed into a bed. I had just placed my discarded clothes
on one of the dining-chairs when Sheila returned with a little dish
of digestive biscuits and another pot of tea.

‘
Are you starving, Charles? If you’d like some scrambled eggs —’

‘
I wouldn’t dream of asking you to cook at this hour,’ I said,
‘and after all the fuss
I’ve caused
I don’t even deserve tea and
biscuits.’ It suddenly dawned on me that not only was her hair
immaculately arranged but that she was still wearing make-up. In
distress I demanded: ‘Have you been staying up, waiting for me
to surface?’

‘
I often go to bed late,’ she answered obliquely, a model of tact.
‘You’re letting me escape much too lightly!’

‘
Well, why not?’ she said with a brief smile. ‘It makes a welcome
departure from my routine.’

We began to drink our tea, I sitting on the edge of the bed, she
sitting in the smaller of the two armchairs, and a silence began which contained a quality which I could not quite identify. It
was
not an embarrassing silence yet it was not a restful silence either;
there was a subtle air of expectancy, reminiscent of the atmosphere
in a theatre when a new act is about to begin, and suddenly as the
curtain began to rise on a very different scene I could look back
and see our earlier conversation for what it was; an exchange
of empty remarks in which neither of us had given anything
away.

Abruptly I said: ‘What’s really going on in your life at the
moment?’ and she said without a second’s hesitation: ‘Damn all.’

We stared at each other. Then she looked away in confusion
and added: ‘Sony, I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘
Why not? Having kept you up until the early hours of the
morning I think the very least you’re entitled to is the chance to
say exactly what you like! Aren’t you enjoying the evening classes
and the voluntary work?’

‘
Oh, they’re just widows’ activities, the things women are sup
posed to do after they’ve been tidied away by society.’

‘
Tidied away? I realise, of course, that the more insensitive sec
tions of secular society find an unattached
woman
persona non
grata,
but surely your local church —’

‘
I don’t go to church now. Oh God, I shouldn’t have disclosed
that —’

‘
On the contrary, shout it out with all your strength! Why did
you stop going?’

‘
I couldn’t get used to anywhere. Pimlico and Westminster are
High-Church strongholds. I went to Westminster Abbey once but
that just reminded me of all I lost when Derek died and I was
deprived of my home, my job and everything that made life worth
while. Believe me, Charles, the Church
is
far worse than those
"insensitive sections of secular society" you mentioned a moment
ago. To the Church a clerical widow isn’t even
persona non grata
—
she’s simply a non-person.’

‘But you had so many friends!’

‘
Most of them just saw me as Derek’s wife — which meant that
after Derek died they didn’t see me at all. The others have stayed
in touch, but since
I’m
in London I seldom sec them.’

‘I suppose if you’d stayed at Radbury —’

‘
I couldn’t,’ she said fiercely, ‘I
couldn’t.
I’d been deprived of my beautiful home and my cherished way of life — I couldn’t bear to
stay on and watch some other woman enjoy herself living the life
I’d lost.’

‘But why choose to
settle
in London?’

‘
I thought there’d be more scope here to make a new life for
myself, but I can’t get a decent job because I’ve no proper qualifica
tions, and although I do the voluntary work I find it so boring
after the stimulating life I led at Radbury. I know I should get
involved with a local church, I know I should, but I suspect the
truth is —’

‘You’re too angry.’

‘
Yes, I feel the Church has humiliated me, turning me out of
my home, hustling me off the stage, sweeping me under the rug
like a piece of unwanted debris — oh, how I hated all that smarmy Christian sympathy which oozed from those executive churchmen
after Derek died! The sheer boneheaded male insensitivity was
beyond belief.’ Taking a deep breath she struggled for composure.
‘I’m
sorry,’ she said again, ‘I shouldn’t have said all that. Let’s talk
of something else.’

‘
Certainly not, this is the sort of story I ought to hear. Sheila,
if only I’d known — if only you’d contacted me —’

‘
No, Charles.
You
were the one who should have contacted
me.

But you thought, didn’t you, along with all the other unthinking
churchmen: poor Sheila, very sad, but she’ll be all tight, she’ll have the support of the Christian community and eventually she’ll make
a new life for herself, she’ll attend evening classes and do voluntary
work and be just as successful
as a
bishop’s widow
as
she was as
a bishop’s wife —’

‘
Yes, I did think that. That’s exactly what I thought,’ I said,
‘and of course I can see now how unforgivably complacent and
unimaginative that was, but why didn’t Lyle set me straight? Surely
she must have seen your position through feminine eyes and
imagined what you were going through!’

‘
Oh, I’m sure she imagined all too clearly, and that was why it
was easier for her to
let
me slip out of your lives! I was a horrible
reminder to her of how her own life might go vilely wrong.’

‘
Even so —’

‘Actually I was never sure how well Lyle liked me.’

‘
I know she respected you,’ I said at once, ‘but she didn’t find
it easy to get on with her own sex.’

‘
Yes, I realised that ... Poor Charles, you must be missing her
so dreadfully and yet here I am, whining away about my very
unimportant problems —’

‘
I think they’re very important indeed. Any seriously diminished
life should be of importance to a clergyman.’

‘Yes, but —’

‘Come down to Starbridge for a few days and
visit
me.’

‘
How very kind!’ she said, startled and, it seemed, genuinely
moved. ‘But no, I couldn’t, Charles — I couldn’t bear to see that
Cathedral and be reminded of all I’d lost at Radbury.’

Setting aside my cup I rose to my feet. Immediately she too
stood up, but I felt sure this was a mere automatic response because
she looked bewildered,
as
if the late-night tea-party had deviated
so sharply from its script that all her lines had become irrelevant.

I said: ‘I can’t believe there’s nothing I can do to help. Please —
won’t you at least take time to consider the invitation? I’m so very sorry I’ve been no better than all the other insensitive churchmen
you’ve dealt with since Derek died.’ And as I spoke this last sen
tence I embarked on what I intended to be a brief symbolic gesture
of reconciliation and held out my arms to her.

Fu. a moment she was motionless, paralysed by surprise. Then she said in a faltering voice: ‘Why should such genuine kindness
be so very hard to bear?’ and she moved forward, slipping her
arms around my neck and pressing her face against my chest to
hide her tears.

Automatically I tightened my clasp, but as I at last held a woman
in my arms again my control over the scene vanished, my body
acted independently of my will and I found myself giving the one
response which I knew I could never afford.

At once she was perfectly still. I tried to speak, thought better
of it, released her, stepped back — all within the space of three
seconds — but to my surprise she grabbed my hand and said very
clearly in an abrupt, matter-of-fact voice: ‘It’s all right. You’re quite
safe. I know how it is. A bishop needs to feel there’s always one
person with whom he can be wholly human and vulnerable.’

It was a speech Lyle could have made.

In fact I felt she had come back to me after all. It was a very
potent illusion.