Phil Rickman - The Fabric of Sin

‘I knew him slightly. He moved on.’

‘And faster than he might have normally. Shirley would insist on doing his washing – washing his vestments, in particular. He’s still a curate, near Swindon. I called him on my mobile about an hour ago. He said he felt guilty – ought to have told someone about Shirley.’

‘But she’s a professional woman. Branch manager at a bank.’

‘Where, according to Joanna Harvey, she frequently offers unsought moral and spiritual advice to customers. Having kept her married name as a sort of penance. You really should be more careful, Merrily, especially after your problem some time ago with Jenny Driscoll. As I suggested to Jane, this is not an uncommon situation, particularly for women priests.’

‘I realize that. What do you suggest?’

‘She needs guidance. Not someone like our friend Nigel Saltash, but I do know a person – a psychiatric nurse and a churchgoer who I would have suggested as suitable for your deliverance team if I didn’t think you’d be suspicious of anyone proposed by me.’

Merrily sighed. ‘Siân—’

‘And yes, after Saltash, I can accept that. One reason why I elected to be your locum – if I do become Archdeacon, I’d hate us to start on the wrong foot, due to … misconceptions. I accept we have theological differences, but I respect what you’ve achieved. Against the odds.’

‘Siân, I …’ Merrily found she’d finished both her cheese sandwich and her coffee. She felt like a real drink. ‘I don’t know what to say any more.’

‘No need to say anything at all,’ Siân said. ‘Because I haven’t finished yet.’

Siân had been the Archdeacon’s shadow for a month. Learning the ropes. Learning many things.

‘You know he’s a Freemason.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

On the edge of a minefield here. It had often seemed to Merrily that paranoia about Masonic influence was exaggerated; she’d never had any problems, never really had cause to notice the Masons, although she was aware there were some in the Church. Besides, it was in decline, wasn’t it? All the existing Masons getting on in years, very little new blood.

‘Freemasons claim to be Christian,’ Siân said. ‘Although you would be hard-pressed to find, within Masonic dogma, any recognition of Christ. There’s a very interesting book by a former vicar of New Radnor who’d become a Mason in – he maintains – all innocence and began to find it alarmingly incompatible. Have you read that?’

‘No.’

‘I’ll send you a copy. Making my own position on this quite clear from the outset … as a barrister I came up against it time and time again. I made a point of learning the Masonic signals so that I could spot them in court. You’d be surprised how often I saw them directed towards the bench, from the dock, and I still believe it’s one of the best arguments we have for more women judges.’

‘And women Archdeacons?’

Siân didn’t smile.

‘And women Bishops,’ she said.

The bar noise meshed into white noise, the lights receding into a single point of light. Merrily pushed her plate to one side, her coffee cup to the other.

‘What are you saying?’

Siân – even Siân – looked around at the handful of customers. Merrily spotted a couple of farmers she knew slightly and James Bull-Davies, former Army officer. OK, surely?

‘The position of Bernard Dunmore is an ambivalent one,’ Siân said. ‘He was a Freemason, many years ago. Like a number of clergy, he apparently became aware of an incompatibility and hasn’t had anything to do with the Craft in years.’

‘But …?’

‘He’s never actually renounced Masonry. And, as far as I can tell, I don’t think he’s ever formally left.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘I think you’ll just have to accept that I do. Call it a nervous hangover from my years at the Bar.’

‘And what does it mean?’

‘I wasn’t sure it meant anything. In his allocation of livings, the Bishop appears to have been fairness itself. Doesn’t seem to have been unduly influenced by Mervyn Neale, although obviously reliant, to some extent, on his organizational recommendations.’

‘And the Archdeacon?’

‘Nothing I can prove, although perhaps I will one day. He doesn’t like you. Doesn’t like deliverance, as a ministry, and he doesn’t like the way you handle it, the way you’ve widened the brief. I don’t think— What have I said?’

‘This morning, the Bishop told me I’d displayed a tendency to go beyond the brief . Like they’re all saying the same things.’

‘I do know he’s had a number of meetings with the Archdeacon in the past few days – far more contact than in any of the weeks since I’ve been shadowing Neale.’

We unleashed you .

And now we’re reining you in.

‘You’re fully aware of what I’ve been working on? In Garway.’

‘I think so. And I think it might well be relevant. Your attitude on the phone this morning was rather extraordinary.’

‘I was … in a state of shock.’

‘Evidently. It made me wonder what on earth the Bishop had said to you.’

‘He …’

It all began to tumble forward, the rape, the cover-up, the desperate need to tell somebody, just to stay sane. She held it back all the same.

‘You don’t have to tell me,’ Siân said.

‘He trotted out the usual stuff about the dangers of deliverance being connected with yet another murder. Which is valid enough. But then he said the Duchy of Cornwall also wanted me to forget it. I rang the Duchy. He’d lied. Why would he do that?’

‘I don’t know. He might simply have developed cold feet. Are you going to do what he says?’

‘Erm …’ Merrily sat back. ‘Siân, this might be a naive question, but if you were to expose Mervyn Neale as having used Masonic influence in the course of his executive work in the Diocese, how would that affect your chances of getting his job?’

‘That’s a very interesting point.’ Siân smiled, mouth only. ‘I imagine I could say goodbye to the job. Even if the Church wanted to make a point of distancing itself from Freemasonry, appointing me, in the wake of a scandal – even if it were only an internal one – might be seen as a step too far. It’s still a conservative organization.’

‘But you’d still do it, if you had the evidence?’

‘First and foremost, I’m a Christian,’ Siân said. ‘Of course I’d do it. Are you going along with what the Bishop wants?’

‘No.’

‘Then you’ll need support,’ Siân said. ‘Or you could, very soon, find you’ve become a very small footnote in ecclesiastical history.’

‘Huw Owen said much the same.’

‘Interesting.’ Siân looked at her watch, frowned and rose to her feet. ‘You trust him, don’t you?’

‘I used to trust the Bishop.’

‘It’s a slippery slope, Merrily. Letting trust slip away.’

‘You lose some, you … win some?’

‘Yes. I suppose you do.’ Siân picked up her bag, the kind of doctor’s bag that exorcists were often assumed to carry. ‘When we get outside, however. I’d really rather you didn’t hug me.’

Merrily smiled.

‘But get help,’ Siân said. ‘I implore you.’

‘I’VE BEEN TELLING Jane about my car accident,’ Mrs Morningwood said, quite softly, looking at Merrily, ‘And how you came to my rescue.’

‘Mmm.’ Merrily frowned. ‘Sometimes people just happen to be in the right place at the right time.’

Jane and Mrs Morningwood were on the sofa, Roscoe stretched across both their knees, Ethel the cat watching warily from the edge of the hearth, where the fire glowed red and orange through a collapsing scaffold of coal and logs.