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Authors: Susan Howatch
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role in the household – she seems very close to Mrs Jardine.’
‘Oh, Mrs Jardine thinks of her as a daughter, I know she does.’
‘How does she get on with the Bishop?’
‘People always want to know that,’ said Harvey, pausing to extricate his latchkey as we approached the front door, ‘and they’re always surprised by my reply which is: “Better than they used to” and not the expected “Magnificently well”.’
‘There’s been friction?’
‘Well, not exactly
friction
… but they’ve had their cool spells. The first was after she came to Radbury – that was around the time I started staying with them in the holidays – and then there was a second cool period after they arrived in Starbridge five years ago. I remember saying to Lady Starmouth once that I was afraid Lyle might leave if the Bishop became much cooler, but Lady Starmouth told me not to worry. She said it’s not always easy for a married couple to live in close proximity to a third party, and of course Lyle’s much more involved with both the Jardines than I am. I’m fairly peripheral in their private life, even though I see so much of the Bishop in his professional role.’ He finally found his latchkey but when the front door swung open it became wedged against a pile of envelopes. ‘Heavens above, look at all this post!’
‘Is this abnormally substantial?’
‘Yes, we’re still dealing with the correspondence on the A. P. Herbert Bill. We even had to engage additional secretarial help last week,’ said Harvey, becoming flustered at the memory, and bustled away into the library as if he feared the envelopes might multiply in his hands.
I made a mental note to ask Lady Starmouth about the difficulties of a married couple obliged to live in close proximity to a young and attractive third party. Then I retired to the dining-room in pursuit of breakfast.
II
I was early. I found no one in the dining-room, but the morning papers were laid out on a side-table and I began to browse among the cricket reports in the
Daily Telegraph.
I was still digesting the unfortunate news that Oxford had defeated Cambridge by seven wickets when Jardine walked in.
‘I was glad to see you at the service,’ he said after we had exchanged greetings. ‘I was glad to be there myself. Sometimes one so strongly needs to wipe the slate clean in order to come fresh to a new day.’
There was a pause while we both thought of the dinner party, its unhappy memory now purged from our consciences, and before either of us could speak again the Starmouths entered the room. They were followed by Miss Christie, immaculate in a navy-blue skirt and white blouse, and at once I noticed the discreet, perfectly proportioned curves of her figure above the waist; I even found myself toying with the erotic image of a pair of empty champagne glasses.
‘Good morning, Dr Ashworth,’ she said formally, while I was grappling with these most unclerical thoughts, but the next moment she was turning to Jardine. ‘Carrie’s decided to stay in bed for a while, Bishop, and she’s asked me to have breakfast with her.’
The Bishop showed no surprise but Lady Starmouth inquired in alarm if Mrs Jardine were unwell. Miss Christie, however, had already retreated to the hall and it was left to Jardine to answer idly as he turned a page of
The Times
, ‘It’s merely the aftermath of insomnia. At two o’clock this morning, acting out of a strong sense of self-preservation, I was obliged to retire to my dressing-room in order to resume the bliss of unconsciousness. The chief disadvantage of Carrie’s insomnia is that she’s always overcome with the urge to share it with me.’
My immediate reaction was to reflect that Jack had been right in assuming that the Jardines still shared a bedroom. My second reaction was to accuse myself of becoming more prurient than any reporter from
The News of the World
, and in an effort to beat back all thoughts which were unbecoming to a
‘Oh, Mrs Jardine thinks of her as a daughter, I know she does.’
‘How does she get on with the Bishop?’
‘People always want to know that,’ said Harvey, pausing to extricate his latchkey as we approached the front door, ‘and they’re always surprised by my reply which is: “Better than they used to” and not the expected “Magnificently well”.’
‘There’s been friction?’
‘Well, not exactly
friction
… but they’ve had their cool spells. The first was after she came to Radbury – that was around the time I started staying with them in the holidays – and then there was a second cool period after they arrived in Starbridge five years ago. I remember saying to Lady Starmouth once that I was afraid Lyle might leave if the Bishop became much cooler, but Lady Starmouth told me not to worry. She said it’s not always easy for a married couple to live in close proximity to a third party, and of course Lyle’s much more involved with both the Jardines than I am. I’m fairly peripheral in their private life, even though I see so much of the Bishop in his professional role.’ He finally found his latchkey but when the front door swung open it became wedged against a pile of envelopes. ‘Heavens above, look at all this post!’
‘Is this abnormally substantial?’
‘Yes, we’re still dealing with the correspondence on the A. P. Herbert Bill. We even had to engage additional secretarial help last week,’ said Harvey, becoming flustered at the memory, and bustled away into the library as if he feared the envelopes might multiply in his hands.
I made a mental note to ask Lady Starmouth about the difficulties of a married couple obliged to live in close proximity to a young and attractive third party. Then I retired to the dining-room in pursuit of breakfast.
II
I was early. I found no one in the dining-room, but the morning papers were laid out on a side-table and I began to browse among the cricket reports in the
Daily Telegraph.
I was still digesting the unfortunate news that Oxford had defeated Cambridge by seven wickets when Jardine walked in.
‘I was glad to see you at the service,’ he said after we had exchanged greetings. ‘I was glad to be there myself. Sometimes one so strongly needs to wipe the slate clean in order to come fresh to a new day.’
There was a pause while we both thought of the dinner party, its unhappy memory now purged from our consciences, and before either of us could speak again the Starmouths entered the room. They were followed by Miss Christie, immaculate in a navy-blue skirt and white blouse, and at once I noticed the discreet, perfectly proportioned curves of her figure above the waist; I even found myself toying with the erotic image of a pair of empty champagne glasses.
‘Good morning, Dr Ashworth,’ she said formally, while I was grappling with these most unclerical thoughts, but the next moment she was turning to Jardine. ‘Carrie’s decided to stay in bed for a while, Bishop, and she’s asked me to have breakfast with her.’
The Bishop showed no surprise but Lady Starmouth inquired in alarm if Mrs Jardine were unwell. Miss Christie, however, had already retreated to the hall and it was left to Jardine to answer idly as he turned a page of
The Times
, ‘It’s merely the aftermath of insomnia. At two o’clock this morning, acting out of a strong sense of self-preservation, I was obliged to retire to my dressing-room in order to resume the bliss of unconsciousness. The chief disadvantage of Carrie’s insomnia is that she’s always overcome with the urge to share it with me.’
My immediate reaction was to reflect that Jack had been right in assuming that the Jardines still shared a bedroom. My second reaction was to accuse myself of becoming more prurient than any reporter from
The News of the World
, and in an effort to beat back all thoughts which were unbecoming to a
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