Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno Trilogy)

by Reynard, Sylvain

  Inside, Katherine purchased two pints of Caledonian ale and piloted her former student to a back corner. Once they were comfortable, she clinked their glasses together and took a long pull from her pint.

  “It’s good to see you, Julianne. You’re looking well.” Katherine took in her former student’s appearance with a single glance. “Your wedding was a triumph. I haven’t had that much fun in years.”

  “I’m so glad you could join us.” Julia gripped her glass a little too tightly, the whiteness of her knuckles telegraphing her nervousness.

  “Are you anxious about your lecture?”

  “Somewhat.” Julia sipped her ale, wondering why Katherine had insisted on speaking to her alone.

  “It’s understandable to be apprehensive, but you’ll do fine. No doubt you’re still a bit shaken after encountering that dreadful woman.”

  Julia’s stomach flipped, and she nodded.

  Katherine noted that the other patrons were engaged in their own conversations before continuing.

  “Did Gabriel ever explain how I came to be in his debt?”

  “He mentioned something about doing you a favor, but he wasn’t specific.”

  Katherine tapped her pint thoughtfully with a single unpainted fingernail.

  “I would have thought he’d have told you. But it’s like him to keep another person’s confidence.”

  She removed her glasses, placing them on the table.

  “Six years ago, I was in phased retirement in Toronto. Jeremy Martin hired Gabriel to replace me, but I was still supervising graduate students and teaching a seminar.

  “At the beginning of the fall semester, I received an email from an old friend here in Oxford. He told me that our former professor, John Hutton, was in hospice dying of cancer.”

  “I know Professor Hutton’s work. He was one of the sources for my paper.”

  “Old Hut probably forgot more information about Dante than I ever knew.” Katherine’s expression grew almost wistful. “When I received news that he was dying, I’d already begun teaching my seminar. And I’d agreed to deliver a series of lectures on Dante and the seven deadly sins for the CBC. I approached Jeremy and asked if it would be possible to take a week off so I could come here.”

  Katherine’s sharp gaze missed very little, and she certainly didn’t miss seeing Julia start at the mention of Professor Martin’s name.

  “Jeremy was an ally to both of you last year. He tried very hard to help Gabriel, but in the end, there was only so much he could do.”

  Julia shifted in her seat. “I always wondered why he helped Christa transfer to his alma mater. There were rumors they were involved.”

  “Rumors hurt people. Sometimes, they hurt innocent people. I expect better from you, Mrs. Emerson, than to be listening to gossip about Professor Martin.”

  Julia grew flustered.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right, of course.”

  “I’ve known Jeremy and his wife for years. Believe me, Christa Peterson couldn’t catch his eye if she were naked, holding the original manuscript of The Decameron and a case of beer.”

  Julia stifled a laugh at Professor Picton’s imaginative description, such as it was.

  “Two days after I explained my situation, Jeremy approached Gabriel. In short order, he volunteered to take over my seminar and any other responsibilities while I was away.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  Katherine tipped her head to one side. “But it shouldn’t surprise you. Gabriel likes to do his good deeds in secret, I think, but that he does them is unremarkable. When he volunteered to help he was a first-year assistant professor, just out of graduate school. It was an extraordinary kindness on his part for someone he knew only in passing. As it happened, I was away until after Christmas, burdening him with everything for four long months. And then afterward, when I came home, he was a very good friend to me. So as you can appreciate, I owe him a debt.”

  “I’m sure he was happy to help, Professor. After everything you’ve done for us, the debt is more than forgotten.”

  Katherine paused, peering at their surroundings thoughtfully. “Gabriel tells me you’re an admirer of the Inklings.”

  “I am. Did you know them?”

  “I met Tolkien once, when I was a little girl. My father was a Beowulf specialist at Leeds and he and Tolkien used to correspond with one another. I came down on the train with my father to visit him.”

  “What was he like?”

  Katherine sat back in her chair and regarded the ceiling.

  “I liked him. At the time, I simply thought of him as old, like my father. But I can recall that he coaxed me into telling him a story I’d made up about a family of badgers that lived behind our house. He seemed quite taken by it.” She gestured to the corner in which they sat. “This was the exact spot where the Inklings used to meet.”

  Julia slowly examined the space. As a child, hiding in her room with a stack of Narnia books, she would never have imagined that one day she would be sitting where Lewis sat. It was nothing short of a miracle.

  “Thank you for bringing me here.” Her voice almost caught in her throat.

  “My pleasure.”

  Katherine’s expression shifted.

  “It took me almost an entire semester to see Old Hut. When I arrived in Oxford, his wife banned me from the hospice. I showed up every day for weeks, hoping to change her mind, hoping that he wouldn’t pass away before I could see him.”

  “Who would be so cruel?”

  “You ask this question after the Shoah? After countless instances of genocide? Human beings can be incredibly cruel.

  “In the case of Old Hut, I was the cruel one and I paid for it. But that semester, it was Mrs. Hutton’s opportunity to exact her revenge, with interest.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Professor Picton waved her hand. “Gabriel gave me the chance to make my peace. I will always be in his debt, which means I feel a special responsibility for you.”

  “Were you able to see your friend?”

  “Mrs. Hutton’s aunt fell ill. While she was visiting her, I managed to see the professor. By then, he was near death, but we were able to talk.

  “I came back to Toronto and worked through my depression. But I never told Gabriel the entire story, or why it was so important for me to see John before he died.” Katherine pursed her lips, looking as if she were divided about something. Then she shrugged.

  “All the important players are dead, with the exception of me. There’s no point in keeping it a secret.” She looked at Julia over her glass. “I don’t expect you to keep things from your husband, but I ask that you be discreet.”

  “Of course, Professor.”

  Katherine wrapped her aged fingers around her pint.

  “Old Hut and I were involved while I was his student, and afterward, when I taught at Cambridge. He was married. Lucky for me, no one found out about us while I was living here in Oxford. But eventually, there were rumors, and the rumors followed me for ten years.”

  Julia’s mouth dropped open.

  Katherine glanced at her, her blue eyes sparkling in what could have been amusement.

  “I see you’re surprised. But I wasn’t always this old. In my day, I was considered attractive. And is it really so surprising? People work closely together on something they’re passionate about, and that passion has to go somewhere. Dante speaks of it when he describes Paolo and Francesca.”

  Katherine replaced her glasses on her face.

  “When I was trying to get an academic position, the gossip became particularly vicious. There were those among my student colleagues who were jealous of Old Hut’s attentions and the fact that he clearly preferred me. Even without evidence of our amour, they began circulating stories that he authored my research. In fact, someone wrote to the Unive
rsity of Cambridge after I’d applied for a job there, claiming that Old Hut wrote a letter of recommendation for me simply because I was sleeping with him.”

  Julia laughed.

  Then she clapped a hand to her mouth.

  “I’m so sorry. That isn’t funny.”

  Katherine’s eyes twinkled.

  “Of course it’s funny. You should have seen his recommendation letter. He wrote, Miss Picton is competent in the study of Dante. I was his lover, for God’s sake. Don’t you think he could have troubled himself to write more than one sentence?”

  While Julia stared in horror, Professor Picton chuckled.

  “I can make light of it now, but I was unhappy for many years. I fell in love with a married man and I mourned not having him all to myself. No marriage, no children. Once I began presenting my research, the rumors died. People heard my lectures, some of which disagreed with Old Hut’s positions, and they realized I knew what I was talking about. I worked very hard to make a name for myself and to come out from under his shadow. That’s why when he was dying, the only other person who knew what had transpired between me and Old Hut was his wife.”

  Katherine stared at Julia intently.

  “I tried my best to discredit Miss Peterson this morning and I will continue to do so. But even if I fail, eventually everyone will move on to the latest scandal. By the time you have your own faculty position, the rumors will be forgotten.”

  “That’s six years away, Professor.”

  Professor Picton smiled. “Given what I’ve shared with you this evening, I think you should call me Katherine.”

  “Thank you, Katherine.” Julia returned her smile shyly.

  “You can help people forget the gossip by being excellent. If you prove yourself, all the gossip in the world can’t diminish it. It’s possible you’ll have to work harder than others, but I don’t think you’re bothered by hard work. Are you?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Good.” Katherine sat back in her chair. “My next piece of advice will be a little bit more difficult to hear.”

  Julia braced herself for the words to come.

  “You need to be more assertive, academically. I understand that it’s your nature to be shy and that you’d prefer to avoid confrontation. But in the academic arena, you cannot do that. When you deliver a paper and someone challenges you, you have to challenge him right back. You can’t sustain misguided or malicious criticisms, especially in public. Do you understand?”

  “I don’t seem to have trouble speaking up in my seminars. Professor Marinelli has been pleased.”

  “Good. My advice is to be yourself tomorrow. Be bright. Be excellent. And don’t let yourself be ravaged by wolves like some diseased moose.”

  Julia’s eyes widened at the strange reference, but she said nothing.

  “You mustn’t let your husband defend you, either. That will make you look weak. You need to defend yourself and your ideas if you’re going to be successful. Gabriel isn’t going to like that. But you must make him see that when he comes to your aid, he makes you look helpless, and that does more harm than good. Chivalry in academia is dead.”

  Julia nodded a bit uncertainly.

  Katherine finished her pint.

  “Now, let’s see if Gabriel has managed to charm the old bastards of the Oxford Dante Society into forgetting what they might have heard this morning.” She winked. “For some of them, what they heard would only make him more appealing. I’m afraid your husband is far more interesting than any of them could have imagined.”

  Gabriel spent his time apart from Julianne wisely. He visited with old friends and new acquaintances at the King’s Arms pub, putting his silver tongue to good use. By the end of the hour, he’d succeeded in giving a half a dozen Dante specialists reason to think that Christa Peterson was a jealous ex-student and that he and Julia were the victims of slander.

  So it was with a markedly improved mood that he joined Professor Picton and Julia for dinner. Katherine spoke fluidly as the wine flowed, while Gabriel kept up his end of the conversation.

  Julia was quiet, even more so than usual, her large eyes tired. She merely picked at her dinner and couldn’t even be tempted by dessert. It was clear that the events of the day had caught up with her.

  When she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, Katherine gave Gabriel a concerned look.

  “She needs rest. The poor girl is worn out.”

  “Yes.” Gabriel’s expression was thoughtful, but he didn’t comment further.

  Katherine nodded at his empty wine glass. “You’ve stopped drinking.”

  “I have.” He offered her a patient smile.

  “Not a bad idea. I go through periods of teetotaling myself.” She wiped her lips with her napkin. “Will you accept some maternal advice, from someone who is not your mother?”

  Gabriel turned to her abruptly. “About what?”

  “I worry sometimes about your ability to handle your detractors. Especially now that you’re married.”

  He started to disagree but she interrupted.

  “I’m old, I can behave how I wish. But you cannot be Julianne’s champion at academic conferences. If you rise to her defense, you’ll make her look weak.”

  Gabriel folded his napkin and placed it on the table. “The incident this morning with Christa Peterson was anomalous. She tried to destroy our careers.”

  “Just so. But even in that case, I’m afraid you did more harm than good.”

  Gabriel frowned, and Katherine decided to change tactics.

  “We’ve been good friends, you and I. I’d like to think that if I’d had a son, he would be your equal in intelligence and talent.”

  His expression softened. “Thank you, Katherine. Your friendship is important to me.”

  “I’ve given Julianne some advice. No doubt she’ll tell you all about our conversation. But before she returns, I’d ask that you consider what I’ve just said. She’s a nice young woman and very bright. Let her brightness shine.”

  “That’s all I want.” He looked down at his hands. His eyes were drawn to the way the light caught on his wedding band, and he found himself staring at it.

  “Good.” Katherine tapped her finger on the table, as if to signal that the matter had been decided. “Now, I hope I’ll be invited to dinner at your house when I give my lecture series at Harvard in January. Greg Matthews always takes me to these appalling molecular gastronomy restaurants that serve you deconstructed entrées cooked in liquid nitrogen. I can never decide whether I’m having dinner or sitting for an exam in organic chemistry.”

  After dinner, Gabriel insisted that they escort Katherine to her residence at All Souls, where they bade one another good night and agreed to meet for breakfast the following morning.

  “Eight thirty, sharp.” Katherine tapped her wristwatch. “Don’t be late.”

  “We wouldn’t dream of it.” Gabriel bowed.

  “See that you don’t.” With a wave, she disappeared behind the great wooden door of the college, which closed behind her.

  Left standing together, Gabriel took Julia’s hand, noticing that her fingers had grown cold. He tried to warm them, touching her wedding band and engagement ring.

  “I know that you’re tired,” he said. “But I want to show you something. It will just take a minute.”

  He led her around the corner to Radcliffe Camera, a great, circular building that had become an icon of the university. The sky was dark, moonless, but a few lights illuminated the impressive structure.

  He squeezed her hand as they approached. “I used to spend a lot of time walking around this building. I’ve always admired it.”

  “It’s fantastic.”

  Julia eagerly perused the architecture and its interplay of stone and dome and pillar. The sky was the color of ink, and the dome almo
st seemed to glow against its backdrop.

  Gabriel brought his hands to cup her cheeks. “I want to speak to you about what happened this morning.”

  He felt her tense beneath his touch. His eyes sought hers and he moved his thumbs gently across her cheekbones. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”

  “I know it was difficult for you to walk away from her at first. But you did. And I’m grateful for that.” Her dark eyes glinted. “You still like to fight.”

  Gabriel took her hands in his and pulled them into his chest.

  “I like to fight with people other than you. Christa is a bully. The only way to deal with bullies is to confront them.”

  Julia lifted her chin. “Sometimes, you should let the nastiness speak for itself. Or at least, let her target decide for herself what’s to be done.”

  “I can do that. At least, I can try.”

  “That’s all I ask.” Julia brushed her lips against his. “I’m sorry she brought up Professor Pain. I had no idea they knew each other.”

  Gabriel closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were pained.

  “I confessed my past. I left it behind. Must I be reminded of it forever?”

  “I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around his back, bringing their chests together.

  They were quiet for a moment and Gabriel pushed his face into her neck, clutching her tightly.

  “Caravaggio,” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I remember what you said about his painting of St. Thomas and Jesus—how our scars might heal but they never disappear. You can’t eliminate your past but you don’t have to be controlled by it.”

  “I know that. But I doubt anyone would want their sexual encounters broadcasted to their work colleagues.”

  “Anyone who would judge you based on old gossip isn’t a friend of yours, anyway.” She pulled back so she could look into his eyes. “Those of us who know you will ignore the gossip.”

  “Thank you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead before meeting her gaze. “People and circumstances will conspire to alienate us from one another, Julianne. We can’t let them do that.”