And sexual attraction, at least on your side.
Yes and why not? Surely thats one of the purposes of marriage?
Youre not allowing that to warp your judgement? Ten years is a long time. The pressure can build up.
I thought of Peters comfortable wife and wondered briefly if the pressure had ever built up in their marriage. Im making allowances for that.
We sat in silence for a moment. The sound of the television filtered up the stairs.
Other things worry me, he said at last. It seems that theres a very real danger that this will cause trouble between you and Ronald Trask.
She and Ronald were never engaged.
Thats not the point, David.
He misunderstood the situation completely. One could even argue that he took advantage of her emotional vulnerability after Charless death. Unconsciously, of course.
Unlike you?
Im not proposing to take advantage of her. Any more than shed be taking advantage of me. Besides, Vanessas husband died three years ago. Plenty of time to get back on to an even keel.
Your wife died more than ten years ago. Do you feel you were on an even keel after three years?
That was different.
I see.
Ronald will understand, I said with an optimism I did not feel. Ill make every effort to talk to him. I wouldnt want to let the problem fester, naturally.
Do you think its possible to build happiness on the unhappiness of others?
Is that worse than making all three of us unhappy?
Peter nodded, not conceding the point but merely passing on to the next difficulty. And theres the consideration that if a priest marries, he should choose someone who shares his beliefs. Otherwise it can put an intolerable strain on the marriage.
Vanessa was confirmed in her teens. Shes not an atheist or anything like that. Shes simply not a committed churchgoer. I drew in a deep breath. Quite apart from anything else, I think that this may be a way of bringing her back to the Church.
I shall pray that youre right.
You dont sound very hopeful.
Its merely that, if I were you, Id tread very carefully. In my experience, a priest should be a husband to his wife. If he tries to be a priest as well, it can cause difficulties. Its like a doctor treating his own family. There are two sets of priorities, and they can conflict.
I take your point. I wouldnt be heavy-handed about it. But Vanessas the sort of person who might well appreciate the more intellectual side of post-war theology. Tillich, Bultmann, Bonhoeffer people like that. They could offer her a way back. I doubt if shes even read Honest to God. I know you and I dont altogether see eye to eye with
David?
Sorry. Im rambling, arent I?
Have you discussed the idea with Rosemary?
Not yet. I hesitated, knowing Peter was waiting for more. All right. I suppose Im putting it off. I could have mentioned it when she was home at half-term.
Youve obviously made up your mind that youre going to ask Vanessa to marry you, he said slowly. Very well. But in that case, I think you should tell Rosemary as soon as possible. Shes bound to feel upset. And if she hears the news from somebody else, think how much more damaging it will be.
Youre right, of course.
You may even find Rosemarys jealous.
I smiled. Surely not.
Even as I spoke I remembered the evening in September when I experienced that unpleasant, dreamlike state in church: the sense of being defiled; the wings of geese flying over the mudflats of an estuary. On the same evening Vanessa had phoned the Vicarage and left a message for me with Rosemary. I had never discovered why Rosemary had failed to pass on the message. I wondered now if she really had forgotten. But what other reason could there be?
The following evening I went to Vanessas flat in Richmond. She led me into the living room. A parcel was lying on the coffee table.
The books ready, she told me. Ive brought advance copies for you and Audrey.
Damn the book, I said. Will you marry me?
She frowned, staring up at me. I dont know.
You dont want to?
Its not that. But Im not sure Id be right for you.
You would. Im sure.
But Id be no good as a vicars wife. I just dont have the credentials. I dont want to have them.
I dont want to marry a potential vicars wife. I touched her arm and saw her eyes flicker, as if I had given her a tiny electric shock. But she did not move away. I want to marry you.
We stood there for a moment. She shivered. I slipped my arm round her and kissed her cheek. I felt as clumsy as a teenager with his first girl. She pulled away. Hands on hips, she glared at me with mock anger.
If Id known this wretched book would lead to
Will you marry me? Will you?
All right. Her face broke into a smile. As long as I dont have to be a vicars wife. I ought to get that in writing.
I put my arms around her and we kissed. My body reacted with predictable enthusiasm. I wondered how on earth I could restrain myself from going further until we were married.
Afterwards, Vanessa brought out a bottle of Cognac, and we drank a toast to our future. Like teenagers, we sat side by side on the sofa, holding hands and talking almost in whispers, as though there were a danger that someone might overhear and envy our happiness.
I cant believe youve agreed, I said.
I cant understand how youve managed to stay single for so long. Youre far too good-looking to be a clergyman, let alone an unmarried one. She stared at me, then giggled. Youre blushing.
Im not used to receiving compliments from beautiful women.
Simultaneously we picked up our glasses. I think we were both a little embarrassed. The small talk of lovers is difficult when youre out of practice.
Vanessa cradled the glass in her hand. Youve made me realize how lonely Ive been, she said slowly. Ive had more fun with you in the last two months than Ive had in the last three years put together.
Fun?
Her fingers tightened on mine. When youre living on your own, there doesnt seem much point in having fun. Or a sense of humour. Or going out for a meal. Didnt you find that?
Didnt, not dont. Yes. But surely Ronald
Ronnies kind. Hes a good man. I like him. I trust him. Im grateful to him. I almost married him. But he isnt much fun.
I dont know if I am, either, I felt obliged to say. Not on a day-to-day basis.
Well see about that. She turned her head to look at me. You know what I really love about you? You make me feel its possible to change.
My inclination was to announce our engagement at once. It gave me great joy, and I wanted to share it. Vanessa, however, thought we should keep it to ourselves until we had told Ronald and Rosemary.
Her delay in telling Ronald almost drove me frantic. I could not feel that she was truly engaged to me until she had made it clear to Ronald that she would never be engaged to him. She did not tell him until ten days after she had agreed to marry me. They went out to lunch, in the Italian restaurant where we had talked about the warts of Francis Youlgreave.
Vanessa did not tell me what they said to each other and I did not ask. But the next time I saw Ronald, which was at a diocesan meeting, he was cool to the point of frostiness. He did not mention Vanessa and nor did I. I had told Peter that I would talk to Ronald, but when it came to the point I could not think of anything to say. He was businesslike and polite, but I sensed that any friendship he had felt for me had evaporated.
His sister Cynthia was less restrained. I had been up to London one afternoon, and I met her by chance at Waterloo Station on my way back home. We saw each other at the same time. We were walking across the station concourse and our paths were due to converge in a few seconds. Her chin went up and her mouth snapped shut. She veered away. After a few paces, she changed her mind and swung back towards me.
Good afternoon, Cynthia. How are you?
She put her face close to mine. Her cheeks had flushed a dark red. I think what you did was despicable. Taking advantage. There were tears in her eyes. I hope you pay for it.
She turned away and, head down, ploughed into a crowd of commuters and vanished from my sight. I told myself that she was being unreasonable: that the fact of the matter was that Vanessa had chosen to marry me of her own free will; and there was no element of deception about it.
7
The round of parish work continued. Normally I would have welcomed much of this. Week by week, the rhythm of the church services made a familiar context for my life, a public counterpart to my private prayers. Weddings, baptisms and funerals punctuated the pattern.
There was satisfaction in the sense that one was carrying on a tradition that had developed over nearly two thousand years; that, through the rituals of the church, one was building a bridge between now and eternity. Less satisfying was the pastoral side of parish work the schools and old peoples homes, visiting the sick, sitting on the innumerable committees that a parish priest cannot avoid.
At that time Roth Park, once the big house of the village, was still an old peoples home. The Bramleys, who owned it, were running it down, which meant that their guests were growing older, fewer and more decrepit. Their policy had an indirect effect on me. There was a run of deaths at Roth Park in those winter months of 196970, which became cumulatively depressing. Sometimes, when I walked or drove up to the house, I felt as though I were being sucked towards a dark vacuum, a sort of spiritual black hole.
Rosemary came back from school for the Christmas holidays. She had changed once again. Boarding school had that effect: each time she came home she was a stranger. I was biased, of course, but to me it seemed that she was becoming increasingly good-looking, developing into one of those classic English beauties, with fair hair, blue eyes, a high brow and regular features.
On her first evening home, I told her about Vanessa while we were washing up after supper. While I was speaking I could not see her face because her head was bent over the cutlery drawer. Afterwards she said nothing. She stacked the spoons neatly in the drawer, one inside the other.
Well? I said.
I hope She paused. I hope youll be happy.
Thank you, my dear.
Her words were formal, even stilted, but they were better than I had feared.
When will you get married?
After Easter. Before you go back to school. Talking of which, Vanessa and I were wondering if you would like to transfer to somewhere nearer for your last year in the sixth form. So you could be a day girl.
No.
Its entirely up to you. You may well feel it would be less upheaval to stay where you are. Where you are used to your teachers, among your own friends, and so on.
Rosemary gathered a pile of plates and crouched beside a cupboard. One by one, with metronomic regularity, she put them away. I still could not see her face.
Rosie, I said. I know this isnt easy for you. Its been just the two of us for a very long time, hasnt it?
She said nothing.
But Vanessas not going to be some sort of wicked stepmother. Nothings going to change between you and me. Really, darling.
Still she did not speak. I crouched beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. So? I prompted. What do you think?
At last she looked at me. To my horror, I saw that her eyes had filled with tears. Her face was red. For a moment she was ugly. The tea towel slipped from her hands and fell to the floor.
What does it matter? she said. Well end up doing what you want. We always do.
Christmas came and went. Vanessa and I announced our engagement, causing a flurry of smiles and whispers among my congregation. We also agreed a date for our wedding the first Saturday after Easter, shortly before Rosemary would be due to return to school for the summer term.
Couldnt we make it sooner? I said to Vanessa when we were discussing the timing.
I think were rushing things as it is.
I ran my eyes over her. Desire can produce a sensation like hunger, an emptiness that cries out to be filled. I wish we didnt have to wait. Id like to feast on you. Does that sound absurd?
She smiled at me and touched my hand. By the way, I had a chat with Rosemary. It was fine she seemed very pleased for us.
Im so glad.
I do hope you and Father will be very happy. Thats what she said. Vanessa frowned. Does she always call you Father? It sounds so formal.
Her choice, as far as I remember. She always did, right from the start.
Is it because youre a priest? Shes very interested in the trappings of religion, isnt she?
It must be because of growing up in the odour of sanctity.
Vanessa laughed. I thought clergymen werent meant to make jokes about religion.
Why not? God gave us a sense of humour.
To go back to Rosemary: shes agreed to be maid of honour.
The wedding was going to be in Richmond, and Peter Hudson had agreed to officiate. The only other people we invited were two of Vanessas Oxford friends and a couple called the Appleyards, whom I had known since my days at Rosington. Early in the New Year, Vanessa and I spent a day with the Appleyards.
They seemed quite normal, she said to me as I drove her back to Richmond. Not a dog collar in sight. Have you known them long?
For years. Henry rented a room from us when we were living in Rosington.
So they knew Janet?
Yes.
We drove in silence for a moment. I had told Vanessa about Janet, my first wife. Not everything, of course, but everything that mattered to Vanessa and me.
Michaels nice, she went on. How old is he?
Coming up to eleven, I think.
Youre fond of him, arent you?
Yes. After a pause I added, Hes my godson, though that did not explain why I liked him. Michael and I rarely had much to say to each other, but we had been comfortable in each others company ever since he was a toddler.
Do they ever come to Roth?
Occasionally.
We must ask them to stay.
I glanced at her and smiled. Id like that.
She smiled back. Its odd, isnt it? Its not just us getting married. Its our friends and relations as well.