The Fabric of Sin

Van der Post, Laurens: white South African who bonded with the bushmen of the Kalahari studying so-called primitive belief systems and showing what Western societies might learn from them, while drawing public attention to the horrors of apartheid.

A war hero. But known primarily, in later years, as a close friend of the Prince of Wales. A seminal influence.

‘The Church wasn’t happy,’ Merrily recalled, ‘when Charles decided he should be William’s godfather. On account of van der Post’s own belief system being not strictly C of E. Correct?’

‘He believed that all religions were, essentially, one,’ Sophie said.

‘Which possibly accounts for Charles’s declared intention of becoming Defender of Faiths, when he becomes king?’

‘Which almost certainly does account for it. The extent of van der Post’s influence can never be overstated. He was extremely mystical in a way that I suspect your … daughter would understand.’

‘Pagan?’

‘That would be too simplistic. He died in’ 96, at the age of ninety, having been far closer to the Prince in his crucial formative years than, I would guess, anyone in the Church of England. You’ll find details in the cuttings about the time they went together into the wilderness of Kenya and van der Post imparted his knowledge of … I suppose the word “shamanism” would not be inappropriate.’

‘It’s coming back to me. Closeness to the land, anyway.’

‘And the alleged … spirits of nature. Evidently a very powerful experience for a young man. They were camping out in a very remote area, without guards or detectives. And there, if you want to look for it, lies the basis of this much publicized — and possibly much misrepresented — communication with plants. It might have sown the seeds of the Prince’s passion for conservation and green issues generally.’

‘Interesting.’

What was also interesting was the way Sophie — who worked for the cathedral — talked about it, with no hint of condemnation. As if even the fringe-pagan became less obnoxious, for her, if it happened to be championed by royalty. If it ever came to a stand-off between the Church and the Crown, whose side would Sophie be on?

‘But where’s it leading, Sophie?’

‘It leads,’ Sophie said, ‘directly to Canon Dobbs. When he first came over here in, I think, the late 1920s, van der Post became a farmer in Gloucestershire for some years. Canon Dobbs grew up near Cirencester. My information is that he might even have worked on the van der Post farm as a boy, during holidays.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘I’ve been speaking to a retired clergyman — nobody you would know, so don’t ask — who knew Dobbs years ago. He said Dobbs would often talk about a South African farmer he’d known before the war who had helped to awaken his spiritual faculties.’

‘If they stayed in contact, Sophie, that doesn’t totally add up. Dobbs’s attitude to spirituality, while not exactly fundamentalist, was certainly tightly focused.’

‘Merrily, you only encountered him at the very end. We’re talking about the 1930s, when he was a boy, and Laurens van der Post a young man. They may not subsequently have followed the same spiritual paths, but in their questing years … Anyway, they were exchanging letters almost until van der Post’s death.’

‘You know this for a fact?’

‘I confirmed it about an hour ago, with Mrs Edna Rees. You remember her?’

‘Yes, I do.’

Dobbs’s housekeeper in Gwynne Street who had once told Merrily he hardly spoke to her. A cloistered existence in his later years.

‘She sometimes, in his absence, managed to clean his office,’ Sophie said. ‘And she remembers the letters.’

Merrily recalled Mrs Rees. Stolid West Herefordshire countrywoman. Shrewd.

OK, crafty.

‘She read these letters?’

‘As Canon Dobbs was apparently shutting her out — unnecessarily, she felt — I would guess she saw it as justified. How far she understood them is another matter. The parts that stuck in her mind, inevitably, were the references to the late Princess Diana.’

‘By Dobbs?’

‘It’s been widely reported, since, that Sir Laurens was not entirely in favour of that marriage. Once describing the poor child as, I recall, a pinhead.’

‘Sharing his opinions with Dobbs? Elderly men conspiring against Diana?’

‘So it seemed to Mrs Rees.’

‘A big Diana fan, I’d guess.’

‘Until then, she hadn’t really known who Laurens van der Post was.’

‘When was this?’

‘Early nineties, I would guess. Mrs Rees made it her business to find out about him — afterwards, of course. And although she insists she never discussed the correspondence with anyone from that day to this, I think she was rather glad to have finally unloaded it all on … someone.’

Someone who worked for the cathedral. And who — humiliatingly excluded, for the first time, from the Bishop’s confidence — would be bitterly identifying with Mrs Rees’s dilemma.

‘Well,’ Merrily said, ‘it’s certainly fascinating from an historical perspective, but—’

‘There’s more. Mrs Rees believes something was entrusted by Sir Laurens to Canon Dobbs — information, perhaps even a package of some kind. Canon Dobbs never actually accused her of reading his mail, but a locksmith arrived one day to change the locks on his study door, and this time Mrs Rees never found the keys.’

‘Any idea what it was?’

‘There was one significant reference in the last letter she saw from Sir Laurens. He … believed he was under surveillance.’

‘Well, that would figure. Anybody that close to the heir to the throne, the security services would be bound to check him out.’

‘Yes, I suppose.’

‘I don’t know what to say about this, Sophie. It’s intriguing, but unlikely to have any bearing on what I’m supposed to be dealing with. It’s all getting too crowded for me. I just want to strip it down to the basics, get the right people in one room, hold a suitable service. I’m just a small-time cleric in the sticks — let’s not get too ambitious.’

‘Oh,’ Sophie said.

‘What?’

‘The Bishop’s here.’

‘With you now?’

‘Standing in my porch. I can see him through the window.’

‘He usually show up this time of night?’

‘No. I’m going to have to go and let him in.’

‘Of course you are.’

* * *

Jane said everything was absolutely fine which, if you knew Jane at all, meant that everything was very much not fine.

‘Can you talk? I mean, is Sian there?’

‘She’s not far away.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing I can’t handle.’

‘Jane, I don’t want you handling anything.’

‘Mum, have you seen the Baphomet again? I mean, have you been back to that house?’

‘Don’t change the subject. Do I need to come back to deal with anything?’