And then there was Eirion … she’d chosen to end that before he did, because the writing was on the wall, anyway. One way or another, all the foundations were cracking, and Jane had spent the whole afternoon in a state of increasing isolation until, with the last period free, she couldn’t stand it any more; she’d walked out of the school and caught a bus into Leominster, strolled around the town in a futile kind of way, shrouded in gloom, before grabbing the chance of a bus to Ledwardine.
She shouldered her airline bag and tramped wearily across the cobbles, and … oh.
The Volvo was parked in the vicarage drive.
The way her heart leapt – well, you despised yourself, really. I missed you, Mummy. God. Jane folded up her smile, buried it deep as she walked into the drive.
Inside the vicarage a dog barked when she fitted her key into the front door. Inside the hall, she recoiled at the sight of the woman in the kitchen doorway with her hand on the head of the wolfhound, like Britannia or something from an antique coin, only made more sinister by the dark glasses, the dark green fleece zipped all the way up, the crust of foundation cream and the ruin of a smile which, when you looked hard, wasn’t a smile at all.
‘You don’t tell her where you got this, mind,’ Gomer said. ‘Her’s gonner have a bit of an idea where it come from.’
Nodding at her sweatshirt, where it said:
GOMER PARRY
PLANT HIRE
‘I think,’ Merrily said, ‘that I need to persuade her to tell me. May have to use you as a threat but … no way have we spoken. Gomer, this … I don’t know what to say … this fills out so many gaps in my meagre knowledge. Just need to have a walk around for a while to think it all out, work out how to approach it.’
‘Good luck, vicar.’
Gomer squeezed out the end of his roll-up, fanned the air. He hadn’t asked about her own involvement with Mrs Morningwood; he’d know she’d have told him if she could.
They came out of the market hall from separate sides. In this village you could never be too careful. Merrily leaned against one of the pillars for a few moments, gazing out towards Ledwardine Fine Arts and the Eight Till Late.
Information overload. She didn’t know where to start.
But, once again, circumstance decided, when Siân came out of the Eight till Late in her black belted coat with the collar up, an evening paper under her arm.
Merrily walked out.
‘Siân,’ she said. ‘Something you forgot?’
43
Shadow
IN THE LOUNGE bar at the Black Swan, they ended up at the corner table where Merrily had sat with Lol the night she’d met Adam Eastgate. Seemed like weeks ago. Merrily made a point of buying the drinks. Coffees. And a cheese sandwich. Still not hungry, but this was no time to be light-headed.
‘Unfinished business,’ Siân said. ‘Hate to leave loose ends. Luckily, she was out.’
‘Who?’
‘Shirley West. I expect Jane’s told you.’
‘I haven’t spoken to Jane. She’s at school. You’ve been to see … Shirley West?’
‘We’ll get to that. Have your sandwich, Merrily. You look as if you need it.’
‘That’s taken you all day?’
‘Not only that. Although it did swallow several hours. Tell me, Merrily, are you on a fixed-term contract here?’
‘Five years. Why?’
‘What about deliverance?’
‘No contract at all. I just do it.’
‘I think you’ve been rather remiss there.’
‘Well, I …’ Merrily put down the sandwich, barely nibbled. ‘You don’t think about these things, do you?’
‘I do. But then, I was a lawyer for over twenty years.’
Siân had unbuttoned her coat. Underneath, she was in civvies – navy skirt, pale blue sweater – looking almost uncomfortable in them, and Merrily realized how similar, apart from the wig, clerical clothing was to what a barrister wore in court.
‘Someone wants to get me out?’
She looked steadily at Siân, who shrugged.
‘Wherever you are, there’s always someone who wants to get you out. But, since you ask, when your contract comes up for renewal, it’s quite likely the terms will have altered.’
‘Extra parishes?’
‘That’s the most likely. And if you don’t play ball …’
‘The contract doesn’t get renewed.’
‘Doesn’t happen often, but it happens. How much have you had to do with Mervyn Neale?’
‘The Archdeacon? Not much at all. It’s been mainly the Bishop. As you know.’
‘Which might partly account for it.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Mervyn doesn’t like you, Merrily.’
‘He hardly knows me.’
‘Perhaps …’ Siân sipped her coffee ‘… he simply dislikes what you represent.’
Which couldn’t be womankind. Without the female clergy, this diocese would be in trouble. Merrily bit off another corner of her sandwich.
‘Neale’s a traditionalist,’ Siân said. ‘He doesn’t, on the surface, object to the women’s ministry, but he does expect us to keep a low profile.’
‘What, like you have?’
‘Well, yes, he was quite angry when it was suggested that I should shadow him for a month, with a view to possibly succeeding him when he retires.’
‘That’s on the cards, is it?’
‘I hope so. I think it’s something I could do.’
‘Mmm, I think it probably is.’
‘Because I’m a ruthless, ambitious bitch, presumably.’
Merrily leaned her head back against the oak panelling, shook her head, smiling faintly. And you thought Gomer Parry was direct.
‘You don’t like me, you don’t trust me,’ Siân said.
‘Siân, it’s not that I don’t like you—’ Merrily rolled her head against the panelling. ‘Oh God.’
‘You know what the problem is with Shirley West, don’t you?’
‘Sure, she thinks I’m some kind of chain-smoking punk priest who dabbles on the fringes of the occult.’
‘Well, that, too. But what it really comes down to is her ex-husband being distantly related to the man often said to be Britain’s most appalling serial murderer, ever.’
Merrily sat up, spilling her coffee.
‘Fred West?’
‘A sexual predator. And, of course, a Herefordshire man.’
‘Shirley told you this? How—? You’ve only been here a couple of days.’
‘Do calm down, Merrily, I’m not trying to take over your parish. I met Shirley West – Jane will tell you – I met her in the church last night. You’d hardly left before I had a phone call from Shirley asking to meet me. Jane – protecting your interests – eavesdropped on our meeting. Jane is … Well, how many teenage daughters would even spare the time? She’s a good girl, Merrily.’
‘I know.’
‘Shirley … was desperately eager to tell me about the evil to which you were exposing your Sunday-evening meditation group. Among other things.’
‘She made a bit of a scene on Sunday night. I didn’t handle it very well. Wasn’t feeling too good, actually.’
‘No, you didn’t look at all well when you left for Garway.’
‘Still, I should’ve made time to talk to her.’
‘If you made time for everybody, you wouldn’t sleep. However, as I explained to Jane, I was rather concerned that Shirley might be causing mischief where you really didn’t need it. So, when you … liberated me this morning, I decided to drop in on her, on that estate off New Barn Lane, not thinking she’d be at work. Her sister-in-law saw me and came out, and I identified myself and she invited me in for a cup of tea, and … I was there nearly three hours.’