Glass in hand, I wandered round the room, picking up ornaments and looking at the books and pictures. I had grown sensitive to poverty in others as you do when your own money runs low. I thought I saw hints of it here, a cushion placed to cover a stain on a chairs upholstery, a fire too small for the grate, curtains that needed relining. David couldnt earn much.
There was a wedding photograph in a silver frame on the pier table between the windows, just the two of them in front of Jerusalem Chapel, Davids clerical bands snapping in the breeze. I didnt have any photographs of my wedding, a hole-in-the-corner affair compared with theirs. My mother had thought we should have a white wedding with all the trimmings but Henry persuaded her to let us have the money instead for the honeymoon.
Janet came downstairs.
Supper will have to be very simple, Im afraid. Would cheese on toast be all right? Theres some apple crumble in the larder.
Thats fine. I noticed her shiver. Whats wrong?
I wanted it to be nice for you on your first evening especially. We havent seen each other in such ages.
Its all right. Its lovely to be here: Will your father be coming down?
Hes dozed off. She went over to the fire and began to add coal. I didnt like to wake him.
I sat on the sofa. Janet does he often do things like that?
The tomato ketchup?
I said nothing.
Hes always had a sense of humour, she said, and threw a shovelful of coals on the fire.
He kept it well concealed when I came to stay with you.
Janet glanced at me. Tears made her eyes look larger than ever. Yes. Well. People change.
Come on. I patted the seat of the sofa. Come and tell me about it.
But supper
Damn supper.
I wish I could. Suddenly she was almost shouting. Youve no idea how much I hate cooking. In the morning the sight of a fried egg makes my stomach turn over.
Me too. Anyway, Im going to help with supper. But come and sit down first.
She dabbed her eyes with a dainty little handkerchief. She was one of the few people Ive ever known who dont make a spectacle of themselves when they cry. Janet managed everything gracefully, even tears. I brought her another drink. She made a half-hearted attempt to push the glass away.
I shouldnt drink this. Ive already had one tonight.
Its medicinal. I watched her take a sip. Tell me, how longs he been like this?
I dont know. I think it must have started before Mummy died. Its been very gradual.
Have you thought about putting him in a home?
I couldnt do that. Hes not old. Hes not even seventy yet. And its not as if hes ill. Just a bit forgetful at times.
Has he seen the doctor?
He doesnt like doctors. That business with the tomato sauce
Yes?
I think he was just trying to be friendly. Just trying to play a game with Rosie, to make her laugh. But he didnt realize the effect he would have.
She hesitated and added carefully, He was never very good with children.
And what does David say?
I havent liked to bother him too much. Hes very busy at present. Theres a possibility of a new job
But surely he must have noticed?
He hasnt seen Daddy for a while. Anyway, for most of the time hes all right.
I felt like an inquisitor. And what did Rosie say?
Nothing really. Janet ran her finger round the rim of her glass. I told her that Grandpa was just having a joke, and it was one of those grown-up jokes that children dont always understand. And she nodded, and that was that.
It turned into quite a nice evening in the end. Rosie fell asleep, and so did that dreadful old man upstairs. Janet and I ended up making piles of toast over the sitting room fire and getting strawberry jam all over the hearthrug. Janet gave me a chance to talk about Henry but I didnt want to, not then. So we ignored him altogether (which he would have hated so much) and I was happy. There was I acting the tower of strength while inside I felt like a jelly, just as I had all those years ago at school. Between them, Janet and Mr Treevor made me feel useful again. We choose our own families, especially if our biological ones arent very satisfactory.
9
Even now, when I am as old as John Treevor, I dream about the day I came to Rosington. Not about what happened in the house. About talking to Rosie outside. The odd thing, the disturbing thing, is what Rosie says. Or doesnt say.
When I see her in the dream I know shes going to tell her joke, that shes called Nobody because nobodys perfect. But the punchline is scrambled. Thats what makes me anxious the fact I dont know how the words will come out. Perfect but nobody. Nobody but perfect. A perfect nobody. Perfect no body. No perfect body. Maybe my sleeping mind worries about that because its less painful than worrying about what was going on in the house.
But the dream came much later. On my first night in Rosington I slept better than I had for years. I was in a room on the second floor away from the rest of the house. When I woke I knew it was late because of the light filtering through the crack in the curtains. The air in the bedroom was icy. I stayed in the warm nest of the bedclothes for at least twenty minutes more.
Eventually a bursting bladder drove me out of bed. The bathroom was warmer than my room because it had a hot-water tank in it. I took my clothes in there and got dressed. I went downstairs and found Janets father sitting in a Windsor chair at the kitchen table reading The Times.
We eyed each other warily. He had not come downstairs again the previous evening; Janet had taken him some soup. He stood up and smiled uncertainly.
Hello, Mr Treevor.
He looked blank.
Im Wendy Appleyard, remember Janets friend from school.
Yes, yes. Theres some tea in the pot, I believe. Shall I ? He made a half-hearted attempt to investigate the teapot on my behalf.
I think I might make some fresh.
My wife always says that coffee never tastes the same if you let it stand. He looked puzzled. Good idea. Yes, yes.
I was aware of him watching me as I filled the kettle, put it on the stove and lit the gas. He had put on weight since I had seen him last, a great belt of fat. The rest of him still looked relatively slim, including the face with its nose like a beak and the bulging forehead, now even more prominent because the hairline had receded further. His hair was longer than it used to be and unbrushed. He wore a heavy jersey that was too large for his shoulders and too small for his stomach. I wondered if it belonged to David. He did not refer to the incident yesterday and nor did I.
I hope you slept well? he said at last.
Yes, thank you.
The noises didnt keep you awake?
The noises?
Yes, yes. You tend to get them in these old houses.
I didnt hear any. I slept very well.
He gathered up his newspaper. I must be going. Its getting quite late.
Wheres Janet?
Taking Rosie to school. Will you be all right? Can you fend for yourself?
I didnt hear any. I slept very well.
He gathered up his newspaper. I must be going. Its getting quite late.
Wheres Janet?
Taking Rosie to school. Will you be all right? Can you fend for yourself?
Once hed established my ability to do this, at least to his own satisfaction, he pottered out of the kitchen. I heard him in the hall. A door opened, then closed and a bolt smacked home. He had taken refuge in the downstairs lavatory.
He was still in there after Id drunk two cups of tea, eaten a slice of toast and started the washing-up. A bell jangled one of a row of bells above the kitchen door. I guessed it must be the garden door, so I dried my hands and went to answer it. There was a small, sturdy clergyman on the doorstep. He touched his hat.
Good morning. Is David in?
Im afraid hes up in town at a conference. Janets out but she should be back soon. May I take a message?
Do you happen to know when hes coming back?
This evening, I think.
Ill ring him tomorrow or perhaps drop in. Would you tell him Peter Hudson called? Thank you so much. Goodbye.
He touched his hat again and walked briskly down the path where Rosie had played hopscotch to the gate in the wall. The lawn on either side of the path was still white with frost. At the gate, he turned, glanced back and waved.
That was my first meeting with Canon Hudson. A meek and mild little man, I thought at the time, with one of those forgettable faces and a classless voice that could have come from anywhere. If I had to have dealings with a clergyman, I thought, Id much prefer he looked and sounded like Laurence Olivier.
10
In the evening David came home from London. The mood of the house changed. He arrived in the lull between Rosie being put to bed and supper. I hadnt been looking forward to seeing him. Janet and I were in the kitchen, Mr Treevor was dozing in the sitting room.
David kissed Janet and shook hands with me.
Did you have a good time? Janet asked him.
Most of it was hot air but some useful people were there. Any messages?
On the desk in the study. Rosie might still be awake if you want to say good night to her.
Just a few phone calls I should make first.
Oh, and Peter Hudson called.
Already at the kitchen door, David turned. His face was sharper than it had been. And?
It was this morning Wendy saw him. He said hed phone or drop in tomorrow.
Hell want to talk about the library. Ill see if I can get hold of him now.
He left the room. I avoided looking at Janet.
Hes concerned about this library business, Janet said hastily, as if in apology. Theres a proposal to merge the Theological College Library with the Cathedral one. Hardly anyone uses the Cathedral Library, you see, and it would be much better for everyone if it was housed in the Theo. Coll. Peter Hudsons the new Cathedral librarian so his opinions very important.
The marriage of two libraries? Gosh.
She winced. Its more than that. You know Davids boss is getting on? Its an open secret he may retire at the end of the summer term.
And David wants the job? I smiled at her and tried to make a joke of it. I thought the clergy werent supposed to have worldly ambitions.
Its more that David feels he could do useful work there. Canon Osbaston likes him. Hes the principal. So does the bishop. But the appointment needs the agreement of the Cathedral Chapter as well. Its a bit like a school, you see. The bishop and the others are like the colleges board of governors.
So wheres the problem?
Some of the canons arent very enthusiastic about David getting the job. Including Peter Hudson.
Janet began to lay the table. The Byfields usually ate in the kitchen because it was warmer and because the dining room was a days march away up a flight of stairs and at the other end of the house.
Hudson seemed quite a nice little man, I said. Inoffensive.
Janet snorted. Thats a mistake a lot of people make. She sat down suddenly and rubbed her eyes. God, Im tired.
I took the cutlery from her and continued laying the place settings. She fiddled with one of the napkin rings, rubbing at a dull spot on the silver.
Its not really about this library, she went on slowly. Or even about the job. Its about the college itself. Theyre talking about closing it down.
Why should they do that?
Because applications are down and moneys tight. Its a problem all over the country. David says the Church of England needs between six and seven hundred ordinations a year at the minimum if it wants to keep its parishes going. But they havent managed six hundred a year for nearly half a century. And meanwhile everythings more expensive. The Theo. Coll.s a great barrack of a place. It simply eats up money.
Why does David want to be principal of it? Couldnt he do something else? Why cant he have a parish like normal priests?
He feels his vocation is to be a teacher and a scholar perhaps even an administrator. She straightened one of the knives. And and I think its the sort of job that gets you noticed. David wouldnt look at it like that, of course, but thats what it amounts to.
Sounds more like Imperial Tobacco than the Church of England.
The Church is an organization, Wendy. They all work the same way. The C of E isnt there to make money but its still an organization.
I was tempted to make a joke about God being the chairman for life but decided that Janet might think it in bad taste.
The salary would be much better, too, she said in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
It was at that point that a handful of suspicions coalesced into a certainty. Moneys tight for you, isnt it?
Janet said nothing. I remembered how David had paid my bill at Mrs Hysons and bought my train ticket. I thought about the cost of Mr Treevors taxi from Cambridge, and how having two extra mouths to feed and in my case water would affect a household budget.
I drew out a chair and sat down beside her. Youve been very good to me, I said. Both of you, real friends in need. But I shant stay long.
Janet lifted her face. I dont want you to go. I like having you here. Anyway, where would you go? What would you do?
Ill find something.
She shook her head. Not yet. God knows what would happen to you.
Other people manage, I said airily.
Youre not other people. Youre Wendy. Anyway, what about Henry?
My heart twisted. What about him?
You dont think ?
I told you in the letter. Its over. Im going to divorce him. He cant contest it. He only married me for the bit of money I had. I rubbed a patch of rough skin on my hand, trying to smooth away the hurt. I caught him making love to another woman and she was the ugliest bitch youve ever seen.
Oh, Wendy.
She took my hand. I stared at them, her hand and mine lying on the scrubbed deal table.
Janet said, You must stay for a while.