The Fabric of Sin

‘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.’

Sian 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 Sian, 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 …’ Sian 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,’ Sian 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,’ Sian said.

‘Sian, 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.’

‘Her sister-in-law … Joanna? I think I’ve met her once.’

‘Joanna Harvey. She doesn’t come to church, and in her place I suspect I’d probably stay away as well, or attend another one miles away. Shirley moved here after her divorce, to be near her older brother, Colin. After just a few months of Shirley as a neighbour, Joanna’s at the end of her tether. Desperately wants to move, just to get away from her, but Colin feels a certain family responsibility.’

‘All the things I ought to know.’

‘Shirley had been married seven years before discovering at a party that the late Frederick West had been some sort of distant cousin to her husband. Who hadn’t bothered to tell her — doubtless suspecting the effect it might have. An effect evidently worsened by the way Shirley found out and the thoughtless jokes about what might be under the concrete patio that Colin had made. It preyed on her mind, becoming an obsession. She came to believe that her husband was tainted by evil. That evil hung over the family.’

For a shortish man, Fred West had thrown a long shadow.

Merrily said. ‘His brother John was facing a rape charge when he hanged himself, exactly the way Fred had. Other members of the family have suffered emotional damage with predictable effects on their domestic situations. But … there are dozens of perfectly normal, well-balanced Wests …’

‘It’s clear that Shirley herself has psychiatric problems.’

‘Though not immediately clear to me, apparently,’ Merrily said.

‘She moved into a separate bedroom from her husband, accusing him of unnatural sexual behaviour. He worked — still works, presumably — for a feed dealer, making deliveries to farms, and she accused him of having a relationship with two sisters who had a smallholding. Entirely unfounded, according to Joanna. There’s more, but you get the idea.’

‘Oh God.’

‘She washes her clothes compulsively. She doesn’t watch television and she doesn’t read newspapers because of the filth they transmit. She began going to church for the first time since childhood about four years ago … obsessively. She joined Christian internet chat groups, particularly in America. Before moving here, she used to attend services at Leominster Priory, where she attached herself to a curate — Tom Dover?’

‘I knew him slightly. He moved on.’

‘And faster than he might have normally. Shirley would insist on doing his washing — washing his vestments, in particular. He’s still a curate, near Swindon. I called him on my mobile about an hour ago. He said he felt guilty — ought to have told someone about Shirley.’

‘But she’s a professional woman. Branch manager at a bank.’

‘Where, according to Joanna Harvey, she frequently offers unsought moral and spiritual advice to customers.