Sidney Chambers and the Perils of the Night

by James Runcie

  ‘But of course the fellows always think they are immune from the real world. The only way to fight back is to get them on their own terms.’

  ‘And how do you do that?’

  ‘We referred to the statutes and ordinances of the university itself.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had a copy.’

  ‘You’d be surprised what we have here, Sidney.’ Keating opened a large volume on his desk and began to quote from it: ‘ “No member of the university shall intentionally or recklessly disrupt or impede or attempt to disrupt or impede the activities and functions of the university, or any part thereof, or of any college.” I think electrocution counts as disruption, don’t you? However, we still haven’t got to the real reason why he did it.’

  ‘Adam Cade was threatening to expose Edward Todd as a plagiarist.’

  ‘Some kind of blackmail, you mean? Is plagiarism so dangerous that a man would want to murder to prevent it being known?’

  ‘Creative theft, which is, I think, the more polite way of explaining it, happens all the time with the flow of ideas. Musicians and writers are always stealing from each other. Hildegard has been telling me how Beethoven’s last sonata contains a hidden theme from Bach; and how, in turn, Chopin’s revolutionary étude takes up the theme and Prokofiev’s second symphony follows its structure. Eliot’s The Waste Land is full of quotations and borrowed ideas. But only the truly creative person can get away with this. They have to have enough originality to acknowledge their sources. Those who do not are on shakier ground, and my friend Professor Meldrum assures me that there is no more precarious territory than mathematical and scientific research. Professor Todd’s forthcoming volume on percolation theory owed much to the work of his research fellow and yet this is not acknowledged, even in the publisher’s proofs. Cade had got hold of a copy and threatened to expose Todd and ruin his reputation.’

  ‘Who told you this?’

  ‘Professor Meldrum. He didn’t have much time for either of them.’

  ‘Isn’t that usually the case with those fellows?’

  ‘Alas, it is so.’

  Keating was unimpressed. ‘We’d have a fine police force if none of us talked to each other. So I take it that Adam Cade kicked up a fuss and Edward Todd recognised that he needed silencing. But surely he could either have acknowledged Cade’s work or talked his way out of it?’

  ‘In this university once the accusation of plagiarism is made it is hard to brush it aside. If word had got out then Edward Todd would have been forced to resign and give up his post as dean of the college. His reputation would have been in ruins. He lived for nothing else.’

  ‘A lesson to us all. It’s just as well you have more than one string to your bow, Sidney. However, I’m not sure Mrs Staunton needed such a vivid reminder of your double life. How is she, by the way? She seems a very fine woman.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt about that.’

  ‘Good. For a man of doubts you sound surprisingly certain. I have noted that we haven’t seen very much of Miss Kendall of late.’

  ‘She is coming for Easter.’

  ‘At the same time that Mrs Staunton is here? Isn’t that a bit risky?’

  ‘I think that it’s about time she met Hildegard.’

  ‘I would have thought that it was better to keep them apart.’

  ‘I’d like to see what they make of one another.’

  ‘You can’t play women off against each other like that.’

  ‘That is not my intention.’

  ‘Then what is your intention?’

  ‘I think I want Amanda’s approval. Her blessing, as it were . . .’

  ‘You have chosen Hildegard above her.’

  ‘Amanda has always said that I must approve of the man she marries. It seems fair that I should offer her the same right of veto.’

  ‘If I was Mrs Staunton, I wouldn’t be too pleased about that. It shows a lack of confidence. You would be better off doing the deed and seeking the approval afterwards.’

  ‘It’s a bit late for that. Amanda’s coming for lunch.’

  ‘Are you going out somewhere? The Blue Boar, perhaps?’

  ‘No, I think Hildegard is doing the cooking. We’re having roast lamb and some kind of German pudding. There may even be simnel cake.’

  ‘So the whole thing will seem a fait accompli. Do you want that?’

  ‘I’m not sure what I want.’

  ‘Well, Sidney, you had better make up your mind, or you’ll end up losing both of them.’

  On Easter Day, Orlando Richards brought a group of musicians from the college to perform Bach’s great cantata Christ lag in Todesbanden with the choir of Grantchester church. It was his way, he explained, of apologising for the coded compositions that had so nearly led to a disastrous misunderstanding.

  Just before the service began, Leonard told Hildegard that the parishioner who had been due to give the first reading had been struck down with influenza and he asked her, as a favour, to read instead. It was only after she had begun to read the passage from the Song of Solomon that she realised that the parishioner in question may never have been asked in the first place.

  ‘I will rise now and go about the city, in the streets and in the broad ways; I will seek him whom my soul loveth,’ she began. She was wearing a narrow streamlined chemise in navy blue with a matching cardigan jacket.

  Hildegard looked out at the congregation and cast an anxious glance at Leonard. He really had a nerve asking her to do this: ‘I sought him, but I found him not. The watchmen that go about the city found me; to whom I said, “Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?” ’

  Sidney was moved by the clarity of her speech, and the simple sensitivity of her interpretation. When he preached his sermon he tried not to let nerves get the better of him, but found himself being more emotional than he might normally have been. It had been an upsetting few days but now, on Easter Day itself, he had to concentrate on the core of his faith.

  ‘Christ is risen!’ he pronounced and looked down from the pulpit to see Hildegard staring straight ahead at the clean white altar with its golden Alleluia and replying: ‘He is risen indeed.’

  The congregation stood to say the Creed, and Sidney led the congregational prayers towards communion. After Hildegard had taken both bread and wine, she returned to her seat and sat in contemplation. As she did so, she listened to the choir sing a special unaccompanied anthem. It was dedicated to the fire of the Holy Spirit, the life-force of creation, the fountain of holiness and the robe of hope.

  At its end, Orlando Richards turned to Hildegard and gave her a little nod. She smiled. She had recognised the piece almost as soon as it had started: O ignis spiritus, by her namesake, Hildegard of Bingen.

  Amanda was expected for Sunday lunch and was driving up from London in her MG.

  Leonard had shopped for the groceries, receiving a special clerical discount both on the lamb from the butcher’s and on the cabbage and potatoes from the grocer. He told Sidney that they should contemplate shopping more often. It was a good, quick way of meeting the parishioners and a demonstration that they were at one with their people rather than closeted in their studies. Sidney was somewhat unwilling to take lessons in pastoral care from his curate but let the matter pass. He had more important things to think about, not least the first meeting between his two greatest female friends.

  ‘She is a very fine woman,’ Leonard had told Hildegard, as he accompanied her back to the vicarage, ‘but she can be somewhat eccentric.’

  ‘Sidney has told me about her but he is very anxious about our meeting.’

  ‘With good reason,’ Leonard replied as he held open the front door. ‘Amanda can be loud and judgemental but, of the two of you, I think she will be the more nervous. Remember, you are in the driving seat.’

  ‘But I don’t know where we are going . . .’ Hildegard smiled.

  ‘I shouldn’t worry too much about that. Let me make you a cup of tea. As soon as Miss Kendall gets here we wi
ll be on to the Easter champagne.’

  ‘Is that a tradition?’

  ‘It has become one. Miss Kendall believes in extravagant gifts. She always thinks we need cheering up.’

  ‘And do you?’ Hildegard asked.

  ‘Well,’ Leonard replied gallantly, ‘the Lenten abstinence does make Sidney rather grumpy. He says so himself. Of course, now that you are here he has perked up considerably. But life does have a way of creating nasty surprises.’

  The door burst open and Amanda walked into the room. ‘I hope that I do not count as one of them, then.’ She had her hair swept back and she wore a bright-red tailored coat that demanded attention. ‘You must be Mrs Staunton . . .’

  ‘Hildegard, please . . .’

  ‘Of course. Leonard, will you do the honours? I’m too hot already.’ Amanda put down her handbag and began to shrug off her coat. ‘How have you found your return to Grantchester?’ she asked. ‘Leonard, be careful. Put it on a hanger. Don’t leave it over a chair like you normally do. I’ve brought the champagne. We must have some straight away.’

  ‘I was making some tea . . .’ Leonard replied.

  ‘Good heavens, Leonard, what is wrong with you? It is already after midday. Where is Sidney? I do hope he’s delayed so that Hildegard and I can get to know each other a little. Shall we sit down?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Hildegard. ‘Although I must also see to the lunch.’

  ‘Isn’t Mrs Maguire to hand?’

  ‘I said I would cook.’

  ‘Are the men making you slave away already? I thought you were a guest?’

  ‘Leonard is in charge but I am helping. I have noticed that both men sometimes forget what they are doing.’

  ‘Have you spotted that already?’ Amanda smiled conspiratorially. ‘They can’t concentrate on anything at all. They like to think they have their mind on “higher things” but most of the time they are wondering who has murdered whom. I do hope you have been spared any of that nonsense. Leonard: will you hurry up with the champagne? I am gasping.’ Amanda’s nervousness in meeting Hildegard was shown in her refusal to maintain silence. ‘It must be very hard for you to come back here, I would have thought?’

  ‘I have memories that are difficult, yes.’

  ‘Can you imagine living here again?’

  Sidney entered the room and threw his cloak on to a chair. ‘That is a very leading question, Amanda.’

  ‘I think it’s an important one. You may kiss me.’

  Sidney obliged. ‘Is there any chance of a cup of tea, do you think?’

  ‘Oh, we are well past tea,’ Amanda continued. ‘The champagne is on its way. But I am keen to hear Hildegard’s answer.’

  Hildegard put her hands on to her knees. ‘I am not so sure. We have not talked about this. It depends on the circumstances. I think I would be uneasy.’

  There was a pop from the kitchen and Leonard emerged with a tray and four glasses of champagne. ‘You have your work in Germany.’

  ‘I have heard you teach the piano?’ Amanda checked.

  ‘Do you play yourself?’

  ‘I play the clarinet rather badly. I think it would be all right for jazz, but not Mozart.’

  ‘You don’t like jazz?’ Hildegard asked.

  ‘I can’t stand it, I am afraid.’

  Leonard handed round the drinks, and the four companions wished each other a Happy Easter before Sidney tried to explain. ‘Amanda has yet to be convinced of its wonders.’

  ‘There is nothing wondrous about it as far as I can see.’

  Hildegard smiled. ‘And there is with Mozart.’

  ‘I think the Clarinet Concerto is one of the finest pieces of music ever written,’ Amanda pronounced.

  Hildegard turned to Sidney. ‘You know they say that when the angels are on duty they play Bach, but in their time off they play Mozart. Not jazz, I am sorry.’

  ‘That’s the devil’s music,’ Amanda continued, ‘as I believe “jazzers” call it.’

  ‘I think you’ll find that’s the blues,’ Sidney replied before enquiring, ‘Have we put the roast potatoes on?’

  ‘Oh, Sidney,’ Amanda answered. ‘You look annoyed. Are you put out that we are getting along?’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting to be teased.’

  Hildegard was surprised by this little streak of humourlessness. ‘Then you shouldn’t have asked us to come at the same time.’

  ‘I wanted you to like each other.’

  ‘We do,’ they said in unison.

  ‘I just want a quiet life, really,’ said Sidney.

  Hildegard was quick to answer. ‘Oh I don’t think you want that at all. You would be very bored.’

  ‘And in any case,’ Amanda continued, ‘we are not going to give you one. From now on you’ll have to deal with both of us.’

  Leonard returned to the kitchen to check on the lunch. ‘Two for the price of one,’ he smiled. Sidney followed.

  ‘Have you known him for a long time?’ Hildegard asked Amanda.

  ‘Technically, yes, but it’s only recently we’ve become chums.’

  ‘Chums?’ Hildegard asked. ‘I am not sure I understand that word.’

  ‘Special friends. I don’t know if there is a German word for it?’

  ‘ “Vertraut” perhaps. It is something more than “Freund” but not too much more.’

  ‘I never think it’s too helpful to try and define things,’ Amanda replied. ‘There are so many different terms for friendship. Do you think there are more in German than there are in English?’

  Hildegard thought for a moment. ‘ “Vertrauter” is a trusted friend. “Wegbegleiter” is someone who shares your path in life. “Verbündeter” is someone you feel joined to.’

  ‘That just about covers it, I would have thought.’

  ‘Then there is a meeting of minds – “Geistesgeschwister” – or even of souls, as in “Seelenfreund”. We like to be precise in Germany. We want to know how things stand. Tell me, do you have a boyfriend?’

  Amanda was momentarily taken aback by Hildegard’s direct tone. ‘I have my admirers. I don’t think that any of them count as “boyfriends”. None of them quite live up to Sidney, of course. They all fall short when I compare them to him.’

  Their host overheard this remark on returning to the room. He had timed it so conveniently that Hildegard imagined he might have been listening at the door. ‘I am sure that is true; but we must not flatter him too much.’

  ‘I rather enjoy teasing him,’ Amanda smiled. ‘And in any case, vanity is more of a problem for him than embarrassment. You know he has his admirers too?’

  Sidney tried to put a stop to the conversation. ‘Come, come, Amanda. Wouldn’t it be better if we got on with the lunch?’

  Amanda would not be silenced. ‘I’ve seen those women helping out at the church fête. They’ve all got names like Veronica and Margaret. Then there’s Agatha Redmond. She provided Sidney with his Labrador. She gets herself into quite a tizz whenever she sees him. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if even Mrs Maguire was secretly in love with him.’

  ‘Mrs Maguire?’ said Sidney. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  Leonard Graham returned with a tea towel over his arm. ‘I think that is perfectly plausible.’

  ‘Don’t you start . . .’

  ‘It’s not impossible,’ said Hildegard.

  ‘Mrs Maguire is not in love with me,’ Sidney snapped. There was a pause, and a silence which he tried to fill by standing up. He thought of walking out but realised that such an action would appear childish. Then he sat down again. ‘Is there any more champagne?’ he asked.

  ‘The lady does protest too much, methinks,’ Leonard added as he shared out the rest of the drinks.

  ‘Honestly, will you all stop it?’ Sidney asked. ‘It’s not funny.’

  ‘Does anyone ever call you Hildy?’ Leonard asked, consciously changing the subject.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Hildegard replied. ‘But I have no objection i
f you’d like to call me by that name.’

  ‘There’s a Hildy Johnson in the film His Girl Friday. Do you know it?’ Leonard asked.

  ‘Is that the one based on The Front Page with Rosalind Russell?’ said Amanda.

  ‘It is,’ Hildegard stood up. ‘But I should check on the lunch.’ She put a hand on Sidney’s shoulder. ‘I am “His Girl Sunday”.’

  ‘That would be kind,’ Sidney replied, rather too brusquely.

  Amanda noticed Hildegard’s proprietary gesture and tried not to mind. ‘I suppose I could always content myself by being “His Girl Saturday”.’

  Leonard could not resist continuing. ‘Which would leave Mrs Maguire free to be “His Girl Monday to Friday”.’

  ‘Will you all please stop going on about Mrs Maguire?’ Sidney said, as quietly and as firmly as he could, only to find himself met by communal laughter and an outright refusal to obey him. He couldn’t decide what he would have to do to regain his authority, or if he had lost his sense of humour altogether.

  After lunch they took a walk down to the river while Dickens leapt around them. Sidney let Amanda and Hildegard talk to each other and discussed a few impending matters with his curate who was keener to return to his studies of Dostoevsky than concentrate on his parish duties. It was odd that both men had such strong outside interests, a peculiarity that was enhanced by a fortuitous meeting with Inspector Keating’s family who were enjoying a similar constitutional.

  The three young Keating girls were delighted to play with Dickens, throwing him sticks and chasing after him, while Cathy Keating reflected that it was her husband’s first day off in months.

  ‘He’s always telling me that he never has days off,’ Sidney replied.