Brother Bertram stood by his door and listened. He was a flabby, bald-headed man with small eyes and thick lips. His pallid skin shone in the light and his podgy white hands fidgeted. He turned off his light quickly and quietly so that Joseph shouldn’t know he was still up. But then Joseph was so stupid, seemed unaware of most things, most of the time. Bertram waited until he heard Joseph’s door shut and then opened his just a fraction. He sniffed the air. And yes! The truth was that he could most definitely smell that disgusting rabbit smell coming from Joseph’s room. Good, He could complain with impunity and he determined to go immediately to discuss the matter with the father abbot. As a senior member of the community it was permissible to go now, and in any case Godfrey wouldn’t have the guts to refuse to see him. Bertram scoffed inwardly. How he despised the man! He would go now on the pretext that the abbot would be far too busy in the next few days. He had thought of a perfect reason for getting that stinking rabbit out of Joseph’s room. He pulled on his habit over his pyjamas and quietly left his room, making his way in the opposite direction towards the main staircase, which led into the central lobby. He had told Oswald what he had planned to do, so they had cancelled their usual get-together.
Bertram had a smouldering grudge against Godfrey. Envy. Anger that Godfrey had been preferred as abbot before him, that he had not been appointed following Father Patrick’s death, gnawed at him continuously. Bertram had worked so hard to be indispensable to Patrick and had felt sure that he would be the next in line, that Patrick would put his name forward as his successor. But no, Godfrey had been preferred, and Bertram thought Godfrey a weak, indecisive man.,Bertram saw his manner of conciliation and quiet patience as feeble incompetence, and was continually irritated by him. How often he had had to point out slackness and dereliction of duties to Godfrey. Nowadays the place was becoming more like a holiday camp than a religious institution. Brothers were slack in all sorts of ways. They talked in their rooms, were often late for prayers and he knew only too well the number of times they made little snacks for themselves in the kitchen. Quite against the rules. They lacked dedication to prayer and study. And now this ridiculous business of the rabbit. This slackness came down from the top, of course. As far as he was concerned, standards were going to the dogs. He would have taken the matter further if he thought it would do him any good. But he realised that no one was to be trusted, could be relied upon, except his Oswald, of course.
Brother Bertram was probably the only member of the community who was looking forward to the move, for he secretly hoped that there, in the new place and amongst new brethren, he could make a good impression and further his status at the same time. It was not impossible, even now, that he might be appointed abbot before he died. The fact was, he got things done. No one else, for example, could have managed to get Joseph removed from the kitchen; Godfrey would never have done so without being pushed. But Bertram had had the perfect argument: simply that Joseph’s lack of hygiene was likely to cause illness sooner or later. That had been a clever move and Bertram was pleased with himself. Himself! It was a joke how easily he coud manipulate the Father.
What really angered Bertram was Joseph’s manner, his irritatingly cheerful manner, quite inappropriate most of the time, and his utter refusal to recognise his own incompetence. He just went on through life undisturbed by anything. He was stupid, always smiling. Worst of all, though, was his lack of respect. That was insulting. The first time Bertram had tried to have Joseph removed from the kitchen Godfrey had argued strongly that Joseph needed something to be proud of, that he had always worked in the kitchen and loved so much to be in charge of the younger brothers, to know in advance what the menus were; the obvious pleasure it gave him to see them all ‘tucking into the food’. That the kitchen was his world, his sole topic of conversation.
But Bertram had been clever; he was learning to handle – manipulate – the abbot rather well. So, he had nodded in agreement as the abbot spoke, shook his head with apparent sympathy, and appeared so concerned for the welfare of the obviously simple man who unfortunately couldn’t be relied upon. It was he who had suggested that Mrs Gregory might need some ‘looking after’. It was amusing how Godfrey listened to him. They didn’t like each other, but Godfrey always listened.
Now he was going to manipulate Godfrey again; he had it all planned in his mind. It was like a combat, a game. And it was a game he was going to win. He, Bertram, was really the one with the power and he enjoyed it. It might not be easy, but he knew now how to plant ideas in Godfrey’s mind yet allow him to think they were his own. That was most important! But he would separate Joseph from his rabbit if it was the last thing he did. He had become obsessed by the idea.
He moved carefully down the last few steps of the wide, highly polished staircase. There was only a dim greenish light emanating from a green bowl-shaped glass shade overhanging the hallway. Father Godfrey was always particular about turning off all unnecessary lights – reducing the electricity bill was one of the many ways in which they tried to lessen their costs – but his light was on, as Bertram knew it would be, for he always read late into the night, or so he claimed. Bertram hesitated before knocking. Was he about to make a fool of himself? Was it really necessary to see the old man at this time of night? Over a rabbit! He thought, He’ll pretend he doesn’t mind. He hasn’t got the guts to tell me to go away. So it’s his own fault for being so weak.
Bertram knocked on the door rather too firmly. It was a while, however, before Father Godfrey answered. Bertram was beginning to wish he hadn’t gone, when all of a sudden the door opened.
‘Ah! It’s you.’ He didn’t seem surprised, but neither did he seem pleased.
‘Just a word, Father, if you have a moment.’
‘It’s rather late, isn’t it? But come in – just for a moment, then.’
Bertram was offered a chair facing the desk and Godfrey seated himself on the other side.
He’s on the defensive, Bertram noted with some pleasure, and he assumed his seat slowly, deliberately before speaking.
‘You know, of course, that Brother Joseph has that rabbit in his room?’
‘I do. But we’ve already spoken about this.’
Bertram appeared to be thinking deeply. His look was one of concern. ‘I really do think we should try to help Brother Joseph, Father. This animal must take him away from other duties: prayer, meditation, for example. It must very distracting for him.’
‘I doubt whether he would see it like that, Brother.’
He’s irritated, Bertram thought with some pleasure, and he’s got that sulky,defensive look again. But Bertram would not be put off; it only made his assured victory all the sweeter.
Godfrey’s’s not taking me seriously, he thought, and his anger flushed around his neck. ‘No! I’m sure he wouldn’t, but then he doesn’t yet know what the alternatives are, does he?’
Bertram himself smiled now to disguise his contempt. That silly, defensive look! But he wants to know. He’ll listen.
Bertram had to be very careful now. ‘I’ve given this a great deal of careful thought,’ he articulated slowly.
‘I’m sure you must have done.’
Bertram knew he must soften his approach. He leaned forward. ‘What do you think we might do to house the animal? Kindly, of course. It surely can’t be happy cooped up in a small box all night. Rabbits like to go out at night. Do their hunting for food and such like. It’s surely not natural to be cooped up in a box indoors. Quite cruel really, if you think about it. What we do to wild creatures! And, of course, the room smells dreadfully, dreadfully. Quite awful. The smell permeates everywhere. The box is never cleaned out, you see. Of course, we all understand Brother Joseph’s difficulties; he is not strong. It must be difficult for him.’ He adopted his troubled expression, which had served him well in the past. ‘The poor man needs our help, Father. Is there any way, do you think, we could help him to look after his pet better?’
Godfrey flicked the loose hair out of his eyes. ‘I suppose you are thinking of the dog run.’
‘What an excellent idea, Father. Of course, we would have to make them completely safe. Oh yes. We want brother Joseph to feel happy about the new arrangements, don’t we? And, of course, it will be where his great friend kept the dogs. I’m sure that will please him.’
‘I doubt that very much. Brother John’s death and the grief … Well, I will put it to him. I do see that something has to be done.’ His voice trailed away and he twisted in his chair, flicking at his hair again.
He’s not happy, Bertram thought, without surprise
‘I’ll speak to him, but see to it that the run is made quite safe. And I mean quite safe, Brother. If you will.’