speaking behind him, but he did not listen. There was nothing he could say that would do any good.
Joseph returned to St. Giles the next day. He walked into the house in the early afternoon and he was barely in the hall when Hannah came out of the kitchen white-faced, her hair coming loose from its pins.
“Joseph, something terrible has happened,” she said immediately, without waiting for him to speak. “Orla Corcoran telephoned, but I couldn’t reach you at Matthew’s flat. You must have left already.” She stepped in front of him, so close he could smell the sweetness of the lavender soap on her skin. Her voice was trembling. “Joseph, someone came this morning to arrest Shanley and took him away. They didn’t say what for, and Orla is almost beside herself. She has no idea what it’s about and she doesn’t know what to do. They told her to say nothing, so she can’t even call a lawyer. How can we help? I told her you would know.”
“We can’t help,” he replied, seeing the grief and incomprehension in her face. He opened the sitting room door and pulled her in, closing it after her. He did not want Mrs. Appleton to hear. “It is to do with Blaine’s murder,” he explained. “And the project they have at the Establishment. It has to be secret.”
“They’ve found the spy.” She searched his face, her eyes serious, probing for honesty. “Was Shanley protecting him? Is that what’s wrong?”
“No, actually they haven’t. I’m not sure if there is one.”
“There has to be! He murdered Theo Blaine.” She stated it as fact.
Should he let it go? It would be easier. The temptation was so powerful it burned through his mind like a fire, hurting and destroying.
She saw something of the turmoil inside him and reached up her hand a little uncertainly to touch his cheek. “Joseph, please don’t shut me out. I’m not running away anymore. I am sure that whatever it is, it’s terrible. I haven’t seen such pain in your eyes since Eleanor died. What is it?”
He looked at her. She was so like their mother, and yet stronger. Her innocence was gone; not destroyed but transformed into something else, something prepared to love, whatever the cost. She needed him to trust her, and now overwhelmingly he needed her to share the burden with him. He had not intended to, but he told her.
“Shanley killed Blaine himself because Blaine was going to create something brilliant, and take the credit,” he said. “It was his, rightly. Shanley killed him out of envy, thinking he could finish the work, but he was wrong. He wasn’t clever enough.”
He saw the incredulity in her face, then it turned to hurt, then finally grief. “Oh, Joseph, I’m so sorry!” She put her arms around him and held him as if he had been younger than she, the wounded one, the sleepless one whose nights were too long, too dark, and too cold to be endured alone.
He was glad of it. It was all he could do not to let the hot tears of disillusionment and betrayal burn his face.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
It was a long time before Joseph could compose himself sufficiently to telephone Orla Corcoran and say to her that for the moment there was nothing he could do to help, and in Shanley’s best interest she would be wisest to say as little as possible. If anyone should ask her, she should tell them he was not well and could not be reached.
She was unhappy with that advice, knowing that there was something desperately wrong, but he refused to tell her more. He left the study, where he had been with the door closed, to find Hannah in the hall saying that Hallam Kerr was here again, in a degree of anxiety because Mrs. Hopgood was expecting her son home from France, and he had lost both his legs. The boy was nineteen.
“Do you want me to tell him to go away?” she asked with a slightly twisted smile.
“Thank you, but I’ll tell him myself,” he replied, walking past her.
“Joseph . . .”
He stopped and half turned.
She gave him a tight smile, wry, soft-eyed. “Isn’t it also time that you told him you are going back to your regiment, and he’s going to have to deal with her on his own?” she asked.
How did she know? He had not even faced telling her yet, knowing how much she wanted him to stay.
She looked at his dismay. “I’m learning,” she said with a touch of self-mockery. She turned and went toward the kitchen, her head high, her back stiff, deliberately not glancing back at him. Their understanding was better than to need it.
Joseph went into the sitting room, where he found Kerr standing in front of the fireplace, although of course the fire was not lit, and the room was full of sunlight. He looked anxious and there was something close to panic in his eyes. He cleared his throat and his voice was husky.
“I came to tell you about Billy Hopgood,” he said a little awkwardly. “I thought you would like at least to know about it. He wasn’t in your regiment, but you probably know him.”
“Yes . . . slightly.”
Kerr hesitated, his eyes searching Joseph’s. “I’m . . . I’m going to see him,” he said. “I’ve no idea what I can say—God help me! But I swear I’ll stay as long as he wants me to. If . . .” He swallowed as though there was a lump in his throat. “If he tells me to get out, should I go?”
Joseph smiled in spite of himself. “I don’t know any better than you do. Maybe wait until he’s told you three times, that should mean he’s sincere.”
“I’ll be there all night, if that’s what he needs,” Kerr promised. “Two in the morning can be a terrible hour to spend alone. I . . . I know. I’ve done it. I still have my arms and legs, but I felt as if God had abandoned the world.” He gulped again. “He . . . he hasn’t, has he?” He looked at Joseph with pleading eyes.
Joseph looked back at him, racking his mind for what he should say. Was Kerr strong enough for honesty? Perhaps he was too weak to survive anything else, and forgive? “I don’t know,” he answered. “There are times when I look at what’s happening, young men crushed and dying, the land poisoned and turned to filth, corruption of what I used to trust utterly, and I’m not sure.” He met Kerr’s haggard eyes. “But the things that Christ taught are still true, of that I’m absolutely certain. Meet me at the end of the world when we stand at the abyss, I’ll tell Satan to his face just as certainly: Honor is still worth living or dying for; no matter how tired or hurt or frightened you are, face forward and seek the light, even if it’s gone out and you can’t remember where it was, keep going. It’s always right to care. It’s going to hurt like hell at times, you’ll think it’s beyond bearing, but if you let go of that then you have lost the purpose of existing at all.”
Kerr stared at him, a slow, almost beautiful dawn of understanding in his eyes, as if he had seen something at last that made sense, one firm step on which to build.
“Yes,” he said simply. “I’ll go now. Thank you, Captain Reavley.” He held out his hand. “Thank you for everything.”
Joseph took it and gripped it hard, and felt an answering firmness. “Good luck,” he offered, meaning it profoundly.
Kerr nodded. “You too, sir.”
The next day Orla telephoned again, and this time it was not possible to put her off with evasion. Her voice was harsh with fear and exhaustion, and unquestionably with anger as well.
“Joseph? Shanley has asked me to speak with you. He sounds terribly ill, and he won’t tell me what is wrong. He says that he has some information about an enemy in the Establishment. I suppose he must be referring to whomever murdered poor Theo Blaine.” Now the anger in her was very forceful. “I think that Shanley has realized who it is that is betraying us to the Germans. He dare not trust anyone except you. He says he cannot even speak to Matthew, and you will know why, but it is extremely urgent. You have to go to him, Joseph. He sounds dreadful. I’ve never heard him like this before.” Her voice dropped. “I think it must be someone he is very fond of, someone he really trusted. Disillusion is one of the most painful of all human experiences, especially for a man like Shanley, who cares for people so much. Please go immediately, Joseph. Promise me?”
She spoke of disillusion! What searing irony. It was the very last thing he wanted to do. There was nothing to say, nothing to add except recriminations, and excuses neither of them would believe.
