Ultimate Prizes. Susan Howatch

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ there!’

      ‘Yes, but that’s when things started to go wrong.’

      ‘But what on earth happened at Willowmead in ’32?’

      ‘You met Alex Jardine. As soon as he started taking an interest in you he was a malign influence on our lives.’

      I was speechless.

      ‘I’ve never liked Alex,’ said Grace in a rush. ‘Never. I know you were always ambitious, but I felt he stoked up your ambition so that it blazed in all the wrong directions –’

      ‘What on earth are you talking about? It was his sympathetic interest which gave me the confidence I needed to make the most of my God-given abilities!’ I was now very shocked indeed. ‘My dear Grace, I can hardly believe you feel like this about Alex! He’s always admired you so much and said what a perfect wife you were for a clergyman!’

      ‘Maybe that’s one of the reasons why I dislike him – I always feel he sees me as no more than an appropriate accessory, like a pair of gloves. Poor Carrie! No wonder they’re unhappily married.’

      ‘But they’re devoted to each other!’

      ‘I don’t think he’s devoted to her at all. Think of all the times we’ve heard him being sarcastic when poor Carrie makes one of her stupid remarks!’

      ‘Well, I agree there’s a large amount of surface irritation, but I’m sure that underneath he’s –’

      ‘Underneath I think he’s actually a rather nasty piece of work – and I’m absolutely convinced that his influence has had a disastrous effect on our marriage.’

      ‘But how can you possibly blame Alex for –’

      ‘Very easily. It was Alex who singled you out from all the other clergy in the diocese and gave you ideas above your station –’

      ‘Ideas above my station? Good heavens, Grace, which century are you living in? I’m not a Victorian servant!’

      ‘No, you’re a Yorkshire draper’s son on the make – and Alex has been constantly encouraging you, bringing you to Starbridge, giving you grand ideas by introducing you to people like the Starmouths, spoiling you with that glamorous preferment which I often think quite turned your head when you were too young to know better –’

      ‘Well, of course I know you’re a cut above me socially and entitled to look down on me if you please, but I must say I find your attitude offensive and your accusations insane. But then women are notoriously irrational when they’re upset and wives are notoriously peevish when they find they can’t keep up with their husbands any more –’

      ‘And who put us in a position where I can’t keep up with you any more? Who turned my gentle, sensitive, shy, romantic husband into someone else altogether?’

      ‘Nobody’s turned me into anything. People evolve, Grace! They don’t just stand still! You can’t expect me to remain as I was when we first met on the beach at St Leonards!’

      Once again she dissolved into tears of despair.

      ‘My dearest love …’ I suddenly realized that I too was in a state of extreme emotional distress. There was a knot of tension in my stomach and I was aware of a vague nausea which threatened to become acute. In the end all I could say in a stricken voice was: ‘You don’t really think of me as just a Yorkshire draper’s son on the make, do you?’

      Still crying she shook her head and flung her arms around my neck. Eventually she managed to whisper: ‘Forgive me.’

      I suddenly felt I could not bear her misery a second longer, and wanting only to terminate this truly appalling scene I said unevenly: ‘I’m the one who should be asking for forgiveness. My dearest love, tell me what I can do to make you happy again – I’ll make any sacrifice for your sake, I swear it.’

      Grace screwed her sodden handkerchief into a ball and gripped it so hard that her knuckles shone white. ‘Give up your archdeaconry. Give up Alex. And give up that double-faced little bitch who’s bent on ruining you.’

      I was silenced. As I automatically took a pace backwards she raised her head to look me in the eyes. ‘Well, you did say,’ she said in a shaking voice, ‘that you’d make any sacrifice.’

      ‘I’m sorry but in my vocabulary “to make a sacrifice” doesn’t mean “to commit professional suicide”.’ I got a grip on myself and managed to add in a calm polite voice: ‘I can’t resign my position as Archdeacon; I honestly believe I’m doing the work God’s called me to do. As for Alex, I’m sorry, but I can’t give him up; it would be the height of ingratitude after all he’s done for me. I’ll make an effort not to inflict him too often on you in future, but it’s quite unthinkable that I should ever say to him –’

      ‘And Dido Tallent? Don’t let’s pretend, Neville. I know you find her attractive. Wives always do know when their husbands’ attention strays in that particular way.’

      ‘If you think for one moment that I’ve ever done anything wrong with her –’

      ‘No, of course I don’t think that! I’ve lived with you for sixteen years and I know better than anyone what a very good, devout man you still are in spite of everything – and that’s exactly why this present crisis is such a nightmare. I feel you’re on the brink of going to pieces in some very profound way which I’m unable to understand.’

      ‘Going to pieces? Me? But my dear Grace, you’re the one who appears to be disintegrating!’

      ‘Yes, but I’m only disintegrating because you’re going to pieces! Neville, there’s something dreadfully wrong here, I’m sure there is, and to tell you the truth I don’t really believe our fundamental problem is my unhappiness. I think my unhappiness is just a symptom of something far more complex and sinister.’

      ‘You’re raving.’ Turning aside from her I replaced my collar and jacket. My Bible was lying on the bedside table. Trailing my fingers across the cover I said: ‘I’m not going to pieces. There are no fundamental problems in our marriage. The only difficulty I have to resolve is how I can make you happy again, and now, by the grace of God, I’m going to work out exactly what I have to do to put matters right.’ Picking up the Bible I headed for the door, and it was only when my fingers clasped the handle that I added casually over my shoulder: ‘Of course I’ll terminate my association with Miss Tallent. I can see clearly now that I’ve been in the wrong there, and I’m very sorry if my acquaintance with her has contributed to your unhappiness.’

      I made my exit. My mind was in chaos. In the hall I got in a muddle and dived down the wrong marble passage with the result that I left the house by an unfamiliar side-door. Skirting the kitchen garden I staggered through an orchard and steered myself around a succession of high yew hedges. I was just beginning to feel like one of Kafka’s characters, lost in some nightmarish metaphysical maze, when I found myself back in the rose garden – and there by the wishing-well stood my disciple, quite alone at last, dark hair combed and curled to perfection, dark eyes glowing with a bewitchingly artless delight as I found myself propelled down the grass path to her side.

      ‘Archdeacon dee-ah!’ she exclaimed, mimicking the drawing-room drawl of an earlier generation of society women. ‘How too, СКАЧАТЬ