Absolute Truths (77 page)

At last Michael muttered: ‘This is our mess, not yours,’ and Charley
said horrified: ‘You’re not responsible.’

‘
No?’ I poured them some more brandy and said: ‘We’re all
interlinked. Who can say with confidence where the responsibility
for this tragedy begins and ends?’ They tried to argue with me
again but fell silent when I held up my hand. ‘Holly killed herself,’
I said. ‘That was her decision, not ours, but we all have our reasons
for feeling guilty and distressed, and that guilt and distress must
be faced, acknowledged and owned. It’s no good denying those
feelings or trying to project them on to someone
else.
That’s no solution. That’s the road to neurosis and dislocation. The guilt
and distress have to be owned so that they can be regretted, because
only regret can ensure the changes which will mean our failures
here won’t happen again.’

‘
What Dad’s talking about,’ said Charley to Michael, ‘is con
fession, repentance, redemption and renewal. Jesus said –’

‘
If you mention Jesus one more time,’ said Michael, ‘I’ll smash
your teeth in.’

I too felt exasperated with Charley for wrecking my attempt to
phrase the reality of the situation in language which Michael could
accept, but I knew my exasperation had to be concealed. In an
effort to take control of the scene again before it could be entirely destroyed by all the anger and pain which was on the loose, I said
very mildly, very pacifically: ‘Charley, Michael’s not uneducated in Christianity. He doesn’t need to be reminded that Jesus accepted
people as they were, forgave them their errors, wiped out their
guilt and restored their sense of self-worth so that a new beginning
was possible. I merely wanted to underline to you both that this healing process is as relevant today
as
it was two thousand years
ago. Modem psychological studies have made it very clear that
one can’t embark on a new life with any real success if one’s carry
ing around a crippling load of unacknowledged guilt from the
past.’

Charley murmured something about the difficulties of atheists,
but I barely heard him’ I was too busy replaying that last sentence
in my mind and listening to it. I had the odd feeling that it related
to some other matter of importance, but I could not remember
what that matter was. I was reminded of the déjà
vu
experience,
in which a scene appears familiar even though one cannot identify
the occasion of the previous viewing.

I suddenly realised that Charley’s remark must have been diplo
matically inept because once again Michael was seething with rage.
‘How dare you imply I’m incapable of understanding the need
for forgiveness!’ he shouted. ‘Do you think I want to go on feeling
as
if I’m about to die of remorse about Holly? Do you think I
want to go on wearing myself out wanting to smash your teeth
in
for what you yourself did to her? Why, you stupid, bigoted old
bugger, er, if you think I can’t see I’ve got to forgive you for being
such a shit over Holly just as I’ve got to forgive myself for being
an even bigger shit over her, then you ought to be lugged off and bloody crucified! Now for God’s sake stop crashing around like a
religious maniac before
I go
mad and bloody kill you!’ And having
delivered himself of these extravagant and cathartic statements, he
leapt to his feet and bolted at top speed from the room.

As soon
as
the door had slammed Charley said in despair: ‘Obvi
ously I’m a complete failure and should resign from the priesthood
straight away.’

‘
What melodramatic rubbish! All that’s happened
is
that you’ve
discovered you’re not quite so wonderful as you thought you were
at pastoral work, but most priests discover that at some time or
another. It’s not unusual.’

‘Yes, but –’

‘
At least you had the guts and the humility to say: "I got it
wrong". That shows you still have the potential to be a good
priest.’ Levering myself to my feet I added: ‘We must eat before
we collapse. Fetch a second tin of beans, would you? There’s not
enough for three.’ I almost reached for the brandy decanter, but
I felt that if I broke my word to Jon about abstaining from alcohol
the grace of God would be withheld and -all hope of redemption
would be lost. To distract myself I said to Charley: ‘No, I’ll get
the beans. You go and see if Michael’s all right. Don’t say anything
to him. Just find out what he’s doing and report back.’

Charley departed. I opened both cans of baked beans and prised
out the Spam on to a plate. When Charley returned he said: ‘He’s
being sick in the cloakroom.’

‘
Leave the kitchen door open so that we hear him when he
comes out.’ I pushed the Spam at him. ‘Carve that.’

Charley drew a sharp knife from the drawer of the dresser but
merely stood looking at it. At last he said: ‘You know, don’t you?
You know all I couldn’t bring myself to confess in front of Michael.’

I emptied the first tin of baked beans into a saucepan before I
answered: ‘Whenever someone says in an attempt to justify a dubi
ous action: "I thought it was my moral duty", I always want to
ask some very hard questions.’

‘
I was lying. My decision to try and take Holly away from
Michael had nothing to do with any moral duty.’

‘No.’

‘I wanted her for myself. I really liked her.’

‘Yes.’

‘Michael could easily have got someone else — he can always get
any girl he wants.’ The knife slipped from his fingers and fell on the dresser with a clatter. He rubbed his eyes before whispering:
‘You did guess, didn’t you?’

‘As soon as you started talking about your moral duty I certainly
remembered you speaking of Holly with approval during our tea
at Fortnum’s. It was unusual for you to approve of a girl who was available for marriage.’

‘
And you do see, don’t you, why I couldn’t possibly admit all
that just now?’

‘
I’m sure it would have been hard for you to admit you
weren’t
driven by the purest possible motives, but frankly I think Michael
would find a simple jealousy easier to understand and forgive than
a complicated priggishness.’

‘But I couldn’t possibly have confessed to jealousy! Priests aren’t
supposed to get jealous. After all, think of yourself! You never
get jealous, do you?’

‘
I’m ashamed to say the answer to that question seems to be: "Frequently and unpleasantly."‘

‘You’re joking!’

‘
Not according to your mother, whose spiritual journal I’ve
recently read. She wrote down a whole string of very devastating
home truths, including some remarks about you and me.’

Charley turned a shade paler. ‘But what did she say?’

Across the hall sounds indicated that Michael was leaving the
cloakroom. I heard the faint murmur of water
as
the lavatory plug
was pulled.

‘
We’ll talk about it later.’ I started to spoon the second can of
baked beans into the saucepan.

But Charley was now very disturbed. ‘Maybe she got it all wrong!’

‘
Yes, I thought that at first.’ Suddenly I heard myself say: ‘She
thought we should talk more about Samson.’

Charley looked appalled. ‘Oh no!’ he said at once. ‘No, that’s
quite unnecessary! I can’t have you being constantly upset, and in
fact I think that now Mum’s dead we should forget about Samson
entirely. We ought to wipe him out once and for all — expunge
him, eliminate him, exterminate him —’

‘Is this a sermon?’ demanded Michael, finally returning to the room.
‘Because if it is I’ll go and shut myself in the lavatory again
until you’ve finished.’ He turned to me. I was standing now by
the dresser. I had picked up the sharp knife which Charley had
dropped, and I was fingering the shining blade.

‘
You look like Macbeth remembering Duncan’s murder,’
Michael said fractiously, and taking the knife from my hand he
cut himself a sliver of Spam before demanding: ‘Can I have another drink?’

I pulled myself together sufficiently to say: ‘We’ll all have another
d
rink: water. Fill a jug, heat the beans, carve the Spam and call
me when everything’s ready.’

Then I left the kitchen at top speed.

I
sat in my study in the dark and waited. Nothing happened. I
listened to my quiet, shallow breathing, and eventually I realised
that I was waiting for Lyle to come and say: ‘Don’t worry, darling,
I’ll take care of it.’ But what she had to take care of, I found I did
not want to know.

Eventually Michael called my name in the hall and I returned to the kitchen. Both boys were now watching me anxiously
as
if
fearing that my sudden withdrawal might be an advance symptom
of some new
disaster.

‘
Sorry,’ I said in my most normal voice. ‘Delayed shock.’ Looking down at our unappetising meal I announced: ‘I’ll say grace,’
but to my horror I could think of no grace to say. Panic made my
skin prickle. ‘Charley, could you —’

Charley said the necessary sentence. We all muttered ‘Amen’,
even Michael,
who was evidently so worried about me that he was
willing to go to unusual lengths to make a friendly gesture. A
silence fell as we all attempted to eat, but less than a minute later
Michael was pushing away his plate.

‘
I feel terrible,’ he said. ‘I want to go upstairs and pass out, but
I’m afraid something might happen when I’m not here.’
Charley said: ‘Like what?’

‘He might die of that delayed shock he mentioned.’

They turned to eye me speculatively. The sheer bathos of their
behaviour was so absurd that I began to laugh but of course this
made them more nervous than ever. I could see them thinking
that if death did not claim me, insanity certainly would.

Trying to keep a straight face I said robustly: ‘For heaven’s sake,
Michael, go and pass out before you utter another idiotic word!’
but the moment he had obediently left the room I thought of
all I still needed to say. I hurried out into the hall. ‘Michael —’
I caught up with him at the foot of the stairs — I’m very
glad you came down here to see me. No matter how terrible this evening’s been you mustn’t think I’m not very glad you
came.’

‘
Oh,
come
off it, Dad, you’re bloody miserable and wishing you
were childless!’

‘Yes, but I’m still so glad you came.’

Michael said kindly: ‘You must be nuts,’ and began to haul
himself up the stairs.

‘
You won’t try and leave without saying goodbye, will you?’

‘
Why should I?’

‘
Well, if you suddenly felt you couldn’t stand being here a
moment longer —’

Dad, stop twittering around like a demented hen and let me
pass out in peace, there’s a good chap. Go and twitter around that
twerp in the kitchen.’

These orders certainly put me in my place but I was not dissatis
fied with the conversation.

With reluctance I trailed back to Charley.