49

When Ewan drew up at The Manor Sally ran out to meet him. ‘Come into the drawing room,’ she said. ‘There’s been a tragedy.’ With the story told, she sloppily poured two glasses of wine and gestured for him to sit in an armchair, but before he could sit down, he was obliged to remove a large purple handbag.

‘The police have only just left,’ she said. ‘They had a good look round and took basic statements from Roger and Andrew. What did Andrew tell you about Tim’s mental state when he spoke to you yesterday?’

‘An admission to A & E on Saturday, with a diagnosis of panic attack. Then a build-up of psychosis on Sunday with guilt and religious features. He initially diagnosed PTSD, but he hoped there’d be an improvement after he’d spoken to me. Otherwise, he was considering admitting him, either voluntary or otherwise.’

‘Andrew confirmed that story to the police, but Roger was emphatic that Tim returned completely back to normal after lunch today. So much so that you weren’t required. Andrew’s opinion was that Roger saw a period of elation as a manic change from the deep psychotic state he’d developed. Something very simple could have tipped the balance back into reverse. The police seem satisfied it was suicide, and they’re not treating the death as suspicious even though there was no note found. It’s so sad. Roger was adamant that the fire in here wasn’t even laid this afternoon, but it was found burning brightly so Tim must have lit it. He’d also had a shower and a shave. The blade of his razor was laid out to dry, and even the wet towels had been neatly folded over the radiator. Signs that he was behaving normally. So we’ll never know what happened, will we?’

‘And where’s Roger, now?’

‘He’s gone to the mortuary to be with Tim. As far as tomorrow’s concerned I asked the police if Marina’s cremation could go ahead, and they said there wouldn’t be a problem from their department. Andrew’s the executor of her will and he’s going to inform the family solicitor, so I guess we should check with the undertakers first thing tomorrow. Look, I know you didn’t want to stay here, and I don’t want to leave you on your own, but I’ve made Roger promise he’ll come straight back to me when he can do no more for Tim.’

‘Of course, I’m happy to stay here. There are nine bedrooms, and I’m sure I can find an empty one. How is Roger?’

‘Devastated of course, but he gave his statement as if he was just a very concerned outsider. He really loved Tim, Ewan, and they did intend to “out” tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll crack up tonight, so I must be there for him. Our marriage might be over, but our past love still remains. Probably always will. Can you understand that? I’m not even sure that I understand it myself.’

‘There’s so much about life and love and ourselves that we’re never likely to understand, isn’t there?’ he said.

‘Marina,’ Sally said. ‘You were in love with her, weren’t you?’

A shudder shot through Ewan’s body. He stiffened, as if his body had suddenly grown a hard metal shell to prevent his inner self escaping. His stomach dropped like ice to his bowels and prickles rose in his neck. The only confidants to his love for Marina had been Jacob and Fanny, but their knowing was never a threat to his security; in fact they were the steam valves in his pressure cooker of concealment. He shook his head, swallowed hard and forced out a few stilted words. ‘No, of course not. Our relationship was wholly professional.’

‘Dear Ewan, I can tell you were. Call it sixth sense, or a woman’s intuition. Your body language screams it out. Your desperate sorrow. The look in your eyes when you talk about her. Looking back, the dreamy expression that came over her face when she talked about you. You’ve no need to explain.’

‘Of course, I wasn’t in love with her…’

‘I’m not chastising you, and it won’t go any further than these four walls. Admit it for her sake, even if it’s only to me, and allow her memory to emerge into the light. Admit it for the sake of your future life, and to celebrate the one she’s just lost.’

With a sudden burst of energy, Ewan’s body unlocked and his resolve evaporated to become a proud outing. He was free! Being free of his cloth and free of his chains, he could now hold up his fist of admission.

‘I must admit it, then. I loved her. I loved her for most of my adult life, but it was a love for all the right reasons. Passion, companionship, fidelity, comfort. To someone like me our love was a venal sin and a betrayal of my vows, but she’ll always be seeped in my bones and embedded in my flesh. Are you disappointed with me, Sally? Do you judge me as a faker and a fraud?’

‘Of course not. I’m not bound by the demands of your faith. I’m an atheist, remember, but can I offer to counsel you? Please let me help you in the way that you’ve helped so many others to recover. My ears can hear you and my hands can hold you.’

‘Thank you for your kindness, Sally, and please forgive my lies. Perhaps we can talk again tomorrow. With an evening alone I’ll have the luxury of protected time to reconcile my thoughts.’ He laughed nervously. ‘I’m afraid this is the only way that priests ever get around to deciding anything.’

Sally rose to go. She poked the slumbering embers of the fire and threw on a couple of logs. ‘You’ll find everything you need here, but if not, or you’ve got any problems, phone me. Andrew’s taken Marina’s cat, by the way. He says he’s happy to offer it a home, but you know what cats are like. It might just turn up. The central heating’s on and there’s plenty of food in the kitchen. By the way, Ewan. Morgana’s handbag. The one Marina wanted you to bless. That’s it on the chair.’

‘Yes. I guessed that,’ he said. ‘Should things go ahead tomorrow I’ll go down early to the chapel of rest in Henley. I’ll see that it goes into her hands, and I’ll escort her safely to the crematorium. I can then get straight off after the ceremony.’

Sally paused nervously. ‘Oh, well. So that’s it, I suppose. Goodnight, Ewan. Please sleep easy, and be assured that there’s no sin called love.’

‘Goodnight, and God bless you, Sally.’

She went to go, but her feet had become as heavy as lead and seemed magnetised to the carpet. She stood still, waiting for him to prolong the conversation, but he said nothing further. As she dragged her feet to move she begged, with what she hoped was thought transference, ‘Please ask me to stay,’ but he’d turned his back and was looking up at the painting of Marina.