Читать книгу Glittering Images - Susan Howatch - Страница 12

‘How do I start?’ I said, surveying my new role of archiepiscopal spy and at once confronting the depths of my inexperience.

Lang was immediately soothing. ‘Once you’re safely established at the Bishop’s palace I’m sure it won’t take you long to decide whether I do in fact have cause for anxiety.’

‘But how on earth do I establish myself at the palace?’

‘That’s simple. I’ll telephone Jardine and ask him to put you up for a couple of nights. He’s not going to refuse me, particularly when I tell him you wish to visit the Cathedral library in order to do some research for your new book. Have you ever been to the Cathedral library at Starbridge? The chief glory, as you probably know, is that early manuscript of St Anselm’s Prayers and Meditations.’

‘But my new book’s about the influence of Modalism on fourth-century Christology – it’s got nothing to do with St Anselm at all!’

Lang was unperturbed. ‘Then you’d better be writing an article for a learned journal – a reappraisal of St Anselm’s ontological argument, perhaps –’

‘And I suppose that during a discussion of the ontological argument I casually ask Jardine if I can sift his journal for pearls of wisdom, heavily disguised as impure thoughts on the subject of his wife’s companion!’

Lang gave me one of his thinnest smiles. Knowing that my levity had encountered disapproval I said at once, ‘I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I honestly don’t see how I’m to proceed. If you could issue me with some elementary marching orders –’

This appeal to his authority smoothed the ruffled feathers. ‘Ask Jardine about his journal. It’s no secret that he keeps one, and as it’s unusual to find a clergyman continuing that sort of spiritual exercise into middle age I think you’d be justified in exhibiting curiosity on the subject. I want to know if he uses it as a confessional. Then I also suggest you talk to Miss Christie in an attempt to find out if Jardine writes to her when he’s away from home. To be frank, Charles, I’m even more worried about the possibility of indiscreet letters than I am about a journal which is probably kept under lock and key. Men of Jardine’s age are capable of almost limitless folly where young women are concerned, and even though I do doubt the existence of any blatant indiscretion there’s always the chance that I could be wrong.’

‘Surely Miss Christie would burn an indiscreet letter?’

‘Not necessarily. Not if she were in love with him – and that’s why I want you to take a hard look at this ménage to gauge its potential inflammability.’ Lang, who had written romantic novels in his youth, began to exercise a baroque imagination. ‘For example,’ he said, ‘it’s not impossible that Jardine’s wholly innocent but the woman’s in the grip of a grand passion. Jardine may long to dismiss her yet be terrified of doing so in case she causes trouble.’

The plot was dramatic but not, unfortunately, implausible. The attentions of passionate spinsters were an occupational hazard for all members of the clergy, and after allowing a pause to signify that I was giving his theory serious consideration I said abruptly, ‘Supposing I succeed in finding something compromising. What do I do?’

‘Report to me. Then I’ll see Jardine and order him to take action himself. He’d make a much more thorough job of censoring his papers than you ever could.’

I was relieved to hear that my activities were not to include sabotage, but nevertheless I still felt a certain amount of shady behaviour was being sanctioned and I decided that the shadiness should be more precisely defined. I said lightly, ‘If the journal’s under lock and key, Your Grace, I trust you don’t require me to pick the lock? Or am I expected to behave like a Jesuit: all things to be permitted for the good of the Church!’

‘This is the Church of England, Charles, not the Church of Rome. Good heavens, of course I’m not suggesting you behave in any manner unbecoming to a gentleman!’ exclaimed Lang with an indignation which only narrowly failed to ring true, and I knew then he had been hoping I would not press him to define the boundaries of the commission too closely. Naturally he was obliged to repudiate any suggestion that he might be sanctioning shady behaviour. ‘All I’m suggesting,’ he said with a very passable attempt at innocence, ‘is that you “test the water”, as it were, before I dive in. My problem at the moment is that my suspicions are so entirely unsubstantiated that I’m quite unable to confront Jardine with them, but if you too find yourself suspicious after sampling the atmosphere at the palace, I shall feel I can approach Jardine without the fear that I’m making some colossal mistake.’

This statement was credible enough, but I decided the time had come to probe how far he was confiding in me. The more he insisted that he believed Jardine to be innocent of any blatant indiscretion the more tempted I was to suspect the Bishop was giving him the worst kind of clerical nightmares. ‘Your Grace, is there any possibility at all that Jardine could be in very deep water?’

Lang achieved a patient expression as if I were a wayward child who had asked a foolish question. ‘My dear Charles, we’re all sinners and the possibility of error must always exist, even for a bishop, but in this case the likelihood of deep water’s exceedingly remote. Despite all our differences I’m convinced Jardine’s devout; if he’d committed a fundamental error he’d resign.’

This statement too was credible. There might have been loose-living bishops in the past but nowadays no bishop was ever accused of anything worse than senility. However Jardine had not always been a bishop. ‘Has there been any scandal in his past, a scandal which was successfully hushed up?’

‘No. He would hardly have received regular preferment if that had been the case, Charles.’

‘Yet you mentioned this “healthy interest” in the opposite sex –’

‘Occasionally at a dinner party he makes it a little too obvious that he finds a woman attractive, but in truth I find that reassuring. If anything were seriously amiss I’m sure he’d be at pains to conceal it.’

This struck me as a shrewd judgement, and in the knowledge that I was once more dealing with the canny Scot who inhabited the bottom layer of his personality I decided to risk prolonging my cross-examination. ‘What about the feather-brained wife?’ I said. ‘Do we know for a fact that he’s discontented with her?’

‘No. There’s a persistent rumour that the marriage has its difficulties but he always speaks of her loyally enough, and the gossip may merely have arisen because they seem an ill-assorted couple. Don’t jump to conclusions about that marriage, Charles. Very clever men often marry very stupid women, and just because the Jardines seem intellectually unsuited you shouldn’t automatically assume they’re unhappy.’

After this wise warning that I should avoid approaching my commission with preconceived ideas I felt there was only one question left to ask. ‘When do I leave for Starbridge?’

‘As soon as Jardine’s prepared to receive you as his guest,’ said Lang, well satisfied with my commitment to his cause, and finally allowed the warmth to permeate his thin dry politician’s smile.