Andrew Hurley - The Loney

‘Fun?’ said Mummer. ‘You weren’t the one being flung around the room like a rag doll.’

‘I didn’t see you complaining too much,’ said Farther.

‘And I didn’t see you stepping in to stop it,’ said Mummer. ‘No, you were too busy egging them on with everyone else.’

‘Good God,’ she went on. ‘Just listen to what I’m saying. This was meant to be a pilgrimage, a chance for us all to find some peace after everything that’s happened and I’m having to worry about strange, drunk men dancing around the sitting room at the invite of the priest who was supposed to be looking after us. What on earth did he think we’d come here for? Larks in the country? To trail around finding lost causes like Clement Parry and his mother? Bringing in every waif and stray he could find? Poking around in business that doesn’t concern him or us? Everything’s falling apart. I mean, he couldn’t even keep us all together.’

‘It wasn’t his fault that Joan and David went home,’ said Farther.

‘It was,’ said Mummer. ‘And he knows it was. That’s why he was so late back. Drowning his sorrows in The Bell and Anchor no doubt.’

‘Esther!’ Farther raised his voice again. ‘You can’t say things like that. Especially not about a priest. That’s how rumours start.’

‘Yes, I know,’ said Mummer, looking pointedly at Mr Belderboss.

‘What?’ he said. ‘What have I done?’

‘The other day you left Father Bernard with lots of questions that I don’t really think we want him to be trying to answer.’

‘It’s not Reg’s fault, Esther,’ said Mrs Belderboss. ‘He was just upset, that’s all. His emotions got the better of him.’

‘You let Father Bernard bully you,’ said Mummer.

‘Oh, come on. It was hardly an interrogation,’ said Farther. ‘I’m sure he was only trying to help.’

‘We’ve got to be more careful,’ said Mummer. ‘None of us really knows what happened to Wilfred and we’re probably never likely to. We can’t give into speculation. If we do that then we’re handing over the memory of Wilfred to those who don’t care about him like we do.’

‘This is Reg’s brother you’re talking about,’ said Farther. ‘I think it’s up to him what he says about Wilfred.’

‘No,’ said Mr Belderboss. ‘Esther’s right. We must keep our suspicions to ourselves. We can’t prove anything. I mean if I had his diary it might tell us once and for all.’

‘I agree,’ said Mrs Belderboss. ‘We can’t let any rumours spread. It’d ruin Saint Jude’s.’

‘Well, if there are rumours, I’m sure they’re out there by now,’ said Farther. ‘You can’t stop people talking. And anyway rumours come and go. They’ll be talking about something else next week. You know what people are like.’

‘I’m not sure you’ve quite grasped how serious this is,’ said Mummer. ‘People might very well lose interest in gossip and move on, but it’s left in their minds as fact. If people have it in their heads that Father Wilfred — you know — then it would turn everything he ever said into a lie. And what would that do to people’s faith?’

‘Faith’s not an exact science, Esther,’ said Farther.

‘Yes it is,’ said Mummer. ‘You either have it or you don’t. It’s quite simple.’

‘Esther’s right,’ said Mr Belderboss.

Mrs Belderboss nodded in agreement.

‘Listen,’ said Farther. ‘I think that if we have even the slightest suspicion that Wilfred took his own life then we ought to report it to the police.’

‘And what good would that do?’ said Mummer.

‘It would be the right thing to do.’

‘If we can’t prove it, how would they?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t think it matters if they do prove it. Wouldn’t it at least take the burden off Reg a little?’

‘Well, we can’t say anything to the contrary now, can we?’ said Mummer. ‘How would that look three months down the line?’

‘Like we had something to hide,’ Mr Belderboss said.

‘It sounds like we do,’ said Farther.

The apostle clock chimed for midnight. Everyone waited for it to stop.

‘Well, Reg and I are a little tired,’ said Mrs Belderboss once the last ring had ended.

‘It is quite late, I suppose,’ said Mr Belderboss. ‘We’ll see you all in the morning.’

Farther helped Mrs Belderboss to her feet and she held his arm as he led her to the door. Mr Belderboss used his stick to get himself out of the chair. Farther opened the door for them and they said goodnight and went off to their room along the corridor.

Once they were gone, Mummer said, ‘Aren’t you going too?’

Farther sighed briefly and came and sat on the bed.

‘I think you’re the one who needs some rest,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘It’s not doing you any good getting so worked up about everything. So things haven’t gone all that smoothly, so what? Father Bernard likes a drink now and then, so what? It’s really not the end of the world. Don’t get so upset about everything.’

‘I’m not upset,’ she said. ‘In fact, in a funny way, I’m glad that I’ve seen Father Bernard for the inept he is. At least this trip’s illustrated that much.’

‘Come on, love,’ said Farther softly and smiling at Hanny who was still by the window with the hare. ‘Leave Andrew be. Let him get some sleep. Come to bed.’

‘I haven’t finished praying for him.’

He took Mummer’s hands in his.

‘Esther,’ he said. ‘I think it’s time that we accepted that he is the way he is, and that’s how it’s always going to be.’

‘I can’t do that.’

‘We’re going home tomorrow,’ he said. ‘And I think that’s where we ought to stay. We shouldn’t come here again. It’s not a good place.’

‘What are you on about, not a good place? We’ve been coming here for years.’

‘I mean, I don’t think Andrew’s ever going to get better here.’

‘Why not?’

He looked at me and then down at his hands. ‘In that room next to the study …’ he began and Mummer sighed. ‘No hear me out, Esther. It’s important.’

Mummer set her face and waited for him to go on.

‘Before we went to the shrine, I went to lock it up and I found a name scratched into the plaster by the bed.’

‘So?’

‘Well I think it was the name of the girl they put in there.’

‘It probably was.’

‘The thing is,’ he said. ‘I moved the bed away from the wall to get a better look and there were four other names there as well.’

‘So they were all ill,’ said Mummer. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘They all died, Esther.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Mummer.

‘It’s true,’ said Farther. ‘Each name had a line scraped through it, and …’

‘And what?’

‘I know I’ve not said anything,’ he said. ‘And I wasn’t going to. But I found some letters.’

‘Letters?’

‘In a little box under the bed. From Gregson to the children’s governess, asking her if the children were better, if they might be able to come home soon.’

Mummer rubbed her eyes. ‘Why are you telling me all this?’

‘Esther, it wasn’t just that one room that was a quarantine,’ he said. ‘It was the whole house. Gregson didn’t build it as a home, but a hospice.’

‘Of course it was a home,’ said Mummer.

Farther shook his head.

‘Gregson never lived here himself; he only built it so the governess could take the children to the shrine.’

Mummer looked at him irritably.

‘I still don’t see what this has to do with us,’ she said.

‘Don’t you see?’ said Farther. ‘He kept on insisting that she take them even when it was obvious there was no hope of them getting any better.’