‘I know. De Molay’s dying curse. Where’s this going, Jane?’
‘Neither the King nor the Pope lasted a year. And Jacques de Molay became this kind of cult figure. Still is, apparently.’
‘Yes.’
‘There was some guy in the French Revolution,’ Jane said, ‘and when they guillotined Louis XVI he was like,
This is for Jacques de Molay
.’
Merrily thought she could hear footsteps on the stairs and stood up. Felt, for a moment, slightly dizzy.
‘Suppose I’d better show Siân around.’
‘Hang on,’ Jane said, ‘I haven’t
told
you, yet.’
‘Sorry. Only—’
‘And this isn’t, like, supposition or legend or anything. This is official history. I think it was 1294.’
‘All right.’ Merrily paused, holding the door handle, aching for a cigarette. ‘What happened in 1294?’
‘That was the year Jacques de Molay came to Garway,’ Jane said.
S
ETTING OUT A
place by the window in the whitewashed dairy, now the guests’ dining room, Beverley Murray glanced at Teddy across the table, and you could almost see it happening: this smouldering issue reigniting in the air between them.
Then Beverley went back to the cutlery tray, and Teddy said, ‘If handled discreetly, I think it would be sensible. Discretion being the operative word.’
‘When was there—?’ Beverley letting the cutlery clink more than was necessary. ‘When was there
ever
discretion in a place like this? Sometimes I think that damned radio mast picks up everything we say and broadcasts it into everybody’s living room.’
‘In which case, Merrily needs to get it all done and dusted before too many people find out.’
By ‘too many people’ Teddy presumably meant some of the cranks likely to descend on Garway next weekend for the Templar memorial service.
‘Quick as I possibly can.’ Merrily was not feeling up to an argument. ‘As soon as I can establish what we’re looking at.’
Meaning
help me here
. Teddy prised out a reluctant chuckle.
‘Merrily has a most unenviable job. Bumps in the night being an area most of us tend to steer clear of. Too many pitfalls.’
‘If there’s a crisis in the parish, Teddy tends to take himself for a walk,’ Beverley said.
She was maybe ten years younger than Teddy, one of those brisk, practical, short-haired blondes who’d become a familiar breed in these parts, like the golden retriever. Their farmhouse was eighteenth-century,
a block of sunburned-looking stone wedged into the hillside half a mile beyond the church, ruinous outbuildings scattered below it like scree.
The Ridge: Dinner, B & B. Walkers welcome
. Two public footpaths intersected below a terrace with tables and green and yellow umbrellas.
‘Balm for the soul, this landscape.’ Teddy was in thick socks, still carrying his walking boots by their laces. ‘You’ll start to feel it soon, Merrily. Take away that anxious frown.’
‘Teddy!’
‘Well, it’s true, Bevvie.’ He turned to Merrily. ‘Sorry if I’m being tactless, but I have to say I don’t think I’ve seen anyone alter as dramatically as you have in just a few days. Well, yes, sudden death … inevitably a shock to the system. But it’s not your fault, my dear,
not your fault
.’
‘Yes, well …’ Merrily said, ‘Maybe a good night’s sleep …’
‘Or, as I say, a good walk. Oh, I know Bevvie thinks I’m an
avoider
, but the countryside calms and strengthens. One of the functions of a parish priest is to remain centred and … essentially placid.’
‘He means
passive
,’ Beverley said. ‘In other words, uninvolved. Male priests think there’s some sort of dignity to being remote. One of the benefits of having girls in the clergy is that at least they aren’t afraid of getting their feet wet. Women get involved, men go for a walk. He does yoga, too, I’m afraid.’
‘Basic stuff, but it keeps one in trim.’ Teddy dumped his boots by the door. ‘Like to enjoy this place for a couple more decades. That so wrong?’
‘I mean, obviously we’re delighted to have you here, Merrily,’ Beverley said. ‘If only the circumstances were different.’
‘Yes. Thanks.’
If only. Merrily was the sole guest, although a party from Germany was expected at the end of the week. There were no-smoking signs in the dining room, the lounge, her bedroom and the en-suite bathroom.
‘At the end of the day, I’m afraid I really don’t see,’ Beverley said, ‘why this community has to be dragged into something which might be terribly sad but is also sordid, sordid, sordid. Bad enough that Teddy’s forced to conduct a service next Saturday for a bunch of … anoraks, I suppose. But nothing to do with the Knights Templar is
terribly
healthy,
it seems to me. The activities they were accused of … well, no smoke without fire, that’s my view.’
Outside the window, rolling shadows chased the last of the sunlight out of a patch of woodland.
‘I can … understand how you feel,’ Merrily said carefully.
When she’d rung from the vicarage, thinking she’d go to Garway in the morning, Teddy Murray had invited Merrily over for supper. Jane, listening to her vacillating, had held up both palms, pushing:
go
.
And it
was
the only way, she realized that now. Time-consuming, but if you went in cold you learned no more than the police would, or the media. Interviews. Statements. On the record, therefore restricted.
Really, it was about listening. As she’d said at the Sunday meditation, not quite getting through to Shirley West. Merrily shivered, not the first time, Beverley noticing at once.
‘Cold, Merrily?’
‘Oh no. Not at all. Goose walked over my …’
After a light supper –
Vegetarian? Not a problem, grow our own
– the three of them were sitting around a glass-fronted wood stove in the lounge, which had rough panelling and a small cocktail bar, like a pulpit, in one corner.
‘More coffee, I think,’ Beverley said, reaching for the pot, and Teddy, having collected more of Bev’s sidelong glances, discreet as neatly folded notes, made another approach.
‘How much of a public affair does this have to be, Merrily?’
‘Well, I won’t be selling tickets.’
‘No … ha … I think what I’m asking …?’
‘Eight people, max. That’s what I was thinking. You, me, a representative of the Duchy, a couple of friends or relatives of Felix and Fuchsia and – tell me if you think this is going to be a problem – members of the two families who’ve owned the place. The Grays and the Gwilyms.’
‘Oh Lord.’
Teddy’s white-bearded chin sank into his chest, and Merrily pined for a lie-down and a cigarette. She sat up.
‘A bit ambitious, do you think?’
‘They don’t speak to one another, you know.’
‘I did hear that.’
‘Family feuds in this part of the world can be very bitter indeed and go on, literally, for centuries.’
‘It’s not a joke.’ Beverley was filling cups. ‘Personally, I think it might cause more trouble than any of this is worth. There’s still a lot of superstition in this area, and this is almost encouraging it. I mean, how can a house …? It seems more than a little absurd.’
‘Yes.’ Merrily nodded. ‘I suppose it does.’
Later, when Teddy had gone for his evening stroll, she joined Beverley in the kitchen. Stainless steel, halogen lights. Ultra-functional, no dust, no stains, no dark corners. Beverley wiped down a worktop with a damp cloth.
‘I didn’t want to be offensive, Merrily, and I’m still a churchgoer of sorts but do you
really
think the atmosphere of a place can affect the way someone behaves? Make them do something horrible?’
‘I suppose I have to say yes, sometimes, in a way, but—’
‘And that you can do something about it?’
How were you supposed to answer that? Tell her about the times you awoke in the night and wondered if you weren’t just patching up the fabric of a great big ancient but flimsy construction that was, in fact, completely hollow?
Merrily closed her eyes momentarily, finally admitting to herself that she wasn’t very well. Couldn’t be pre-mentrual, she wasn’t due for another … ten days?
‘You OK, Merrily?’
‘I’m fine. The thing is, I thought at first it was going to be nothing. I thought the Bishop was going over the top in asking for a full inquiry. Then two people die.’
‘Yes.’ Beverley threw the cloth into one of three sinks. ‘Something you said earlier worried me a little.’
‘Mmm?’
‘When you said there should be no more than eight people at this … ceremony. And that one of them should be Teddy. How necessary is
that? I suppose what I’m saying – and please don’t tell him we’ve had this conversation, he’d be angry with me – is that I’d really rather you did it without him.’
‘I see.’
‘No, you don’t. What you see is a fit, healthy, athletic man who walks at least five miles every morning before breakfast. You don’t see what I saw when he was the rector of our village near Cheltenham.’
‘How long ago was this?’
‘Six years? That’s how long we’ve been married, anyway. I was recently divorced at the time – when I first met Teddy. And my son was abroad – gap year before uni.’
Beverley said she’d had room to breathe for the first time in years. She’d been awarded the house in the divorce settlement, and there was a recent bequest from an uncle. But she’d only been forty and on the lookout for a meaningful job.
‘I was thinking of going back to nursing, but that’s a thankless task nowadays. NHS hospitals are like meat-processing plants.’
Beverley switched on the dishwasher and then, mercifully, dimmed the lights. She stood looking out of a small square window towards the glowing of distant farms. Telling Merrily how she’d started going to church, helping out, spending time with the rector. Much as Merrily had when her own marriage had been coming unstitched. The difference being that it had led Merrily into a personal calling and Bev into a project called Teddy.
‘His workload was becoming ridiculous, poor man. Four large parishes in Gloucestershire, and the phone never seemed to stop ringing. And then the main church was broken into five times in two years. You get that, too, I imagine.’
‘Not so far.’
‘Then you’ve been very lucky. The final straw was a wave of absolutely awful vandalism. Well, not just vandalism – desecration. Gravestones pushed over, defaced, strange symbols chiselled into them. And one night someone broke in and actually defecated in the church, which was horrible, horrible, horrible …’
‘And a police matter, surely?’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? It’s only when it actually happens that you find out that, unless the damage is very serious or someone’s been hurt, the police really aren’t interested in the slightest. They might show up and take a statement, looking rather bored, but you never hear from them again.’
‘How long did this go on?’
‘Couple of months, intermittently. There was supposed to be a neighbourhood watch in the village, but they were only interested in protecting their own homes. Teddy would be out patrolling the churchyard himself at all hours of the night. One night, he almost caught someone and was knocked to the ground. What
is
happening in our society? Sometimes they’re
killed
. Priests killed outside their own churches!’
‘We’ve been lucky in this part of the world. So far.’
‘I suppose that’s one advantage of a place where everyone knows everyone else. But, to cut a long story short, he more or less had a breakdown. Constantly tired – you’d see his hands trembling, dropping the prayer book at service. When the graves were desecrated, some people in the parish were talking about – well, it was inevitable, I suppose …’
‘What – Satanism?’
‘That sort of thing. Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant. It left a nasty taste. Teddy seemed to age about ten years. I … found myself looking after him. It’s what I’m good at, I suppose.’
‘He, erm … he wasn’t married then?’
‘His wife had died some years before. Car accident. The Church was his life, if you could call it a life. And in the parish … the
nerve
of people. The way some of them reacted when they found out I was divorced! I mean, it was hardly a major scandal. One night, I said, for God’s sake, why don’t you pack in this stupid,
stupid
job, and let’s move to somewhere they don’t know us and start a guest house. I
did
know what I was doing, by the way – my parents were hoteliers.’
‘He got early retirement?’
‘After I threatened to go to the press. Overworked, overpressured, underpaid and under threats of violence?’
‘Literally?’
‘There were threatening phone calls. Didn’t I say? Untraceable these days, people make them from cheap mobiles. But … he got early retirement, and we wound up here. Not
quite
my idea of an idyll, but the people are OK, they don’t judge. “Bev and Rev”, that’s what they call us in the pub. We thought of having it on the sign outside, but that would be a little
too
cosy.’
‘He seems OK, now.’
‘I tease him about his walks, but it’s really done him the world of good, the four years we’ve been at Garway. Learned all the history, guides people around, leads expeditions, and able to keep his hand in with the church. Just our bloody luck that the vicar would have to leave and there’d be an unexpected hiatus before the next one takes over, and Teddy would feel obliged to stand in full-time. And that it should coincide, God help us, with
this
madness.’
It wasn’t clear whether she meant the Master House problem or the Templar service. Maybe both.
‘What sort of service is he going to give them?’
‘We still haven’t given up hope that someone else might take it on.’ Beverley looked at Merrily, eyes steady. ‘I don’t suppose …?’
‘Beverley, most of what I know about the Knights Templar I got from Teddy the other day. All he needs is an ordinary service with a couple of customized prayers, a sermon about the need for religious tolerance and … I dunno, “Onward Christian Soldiers”? Beverley, would it be OK if I—?’