Sidney Chambers and the Perils of the Night

by James Runcie

  ‘Is something the matter?’ Juliette asked.

  ‘No, it’s nothing. I’m quite all right.’

  ‘I hope it wasn’t the food.’

  ‘Or the company,’ Anthony Cartwright laughed.

  Sidney realised that he was making a scene. ‘No. It’s all right. I’m sorry. I don’t want to make a fuss. Slight headache.’ It was the kind that no amount of Aspro could clear.

  ‘I’ll give you a lift to the station,’ said Jennifer.

  Sidney was apologetic. ‘I don’t want to break up the party.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ his sister replied before turning to her hostess. ‘I can come back. It’s not far.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Johnny.

  ‘No, it’s all right.’

  ‘I insist.’

  Amanda stood up and kissed Sidney goodbye. She wanted to make sure that he was still going to take her through the wedding preparations with Tony in a few days’ time. Sidney tried to smile. ‘I look forward to it.’ He shook Anthony Cartwright’s hand and said that it had been good to meet him at last.

  Outside, and once they had settled in the car, Jennifer drove without turning to her brother at all. ‘Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Sidney.’

  ‘I really don’t think I am.’

  ‘You were in such a mood. What’s wrong with him?’

  ‘You don’t think he’s too good to be true?’

  ‘There are men like that, Sidney. You should be happy for Amanda. She’s found someone who loves her at last.’

  ‘I know, I know. But there’s something about him that doesn’t feel right.’

  ‘Oh, Sidney, don’t be ridiculous.’

  Jennifer’s boyfriend was curiously silent. ‘What do you think, Johnny?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, I hate to disagree with you, and I know this will get me into a lot of trouble once we have dropped Sidney off, but I think your brother might have a point.’

  Amanda drove Anthony Cartwright to Grantchester the following week. She had suggested that they could get through the whole ‘marriage-preparation malarkey’ over lunch in a single session at Le Bleu Blanc Rouge but Sidney was having none of it. They would need to come for two full sessions over morning coffee in the vicarage and they would be treated in the same way as any other couple.

  Sidney wondered if part of their hurry was because his friend was pregnant. Although he felt sure that his sister would have told him if that was the case, Amanda was in full organisational mode. Indeed, she had already booked a honeymoon in the south of France (revealing that she was going to pay for the whole thing since, as an academic, her fiancé had so little money, and she wanted to stay at the Palais de la Méditerranée in Nice).

  Sidney was surprised by Anthony Cartwright’s keenness to get the ceremony out of the way before he went on his next research trip to America. It was certainly unusual for a man to leave his wife straight after the honeymoon for six weeks but his research was, apparently, at a critical stage. Science was the new frontier and he told Sidney that all of the interesting work was being done across the Atlantic.

  ‘Richard Feynman at Caltech is working on a pictorial representation scheme for the mathematical expressions governing the behaviour of subatomic particles. I have to be there or I’ll be out of the game. I don’t want to end up like poor old Meldrum.’

  Neville Meldrum, the Professor of Theoretical Physics at Corpus, was one of Sidney’s closest friends and there was nothing ‘poor’ or ‘old’ about him.

  ‘I’ve always said that Cambridge is a bit of a backwater,’ Amanda joined in. ‘I don’t know why Sidney has put up with the provinces for so long. That’s why I’m so glad that we’re getting married in London. We can put on a proper “do”.’

  Sidney poured out the coffee and offered round a small plate of Mrs Maguire’s shortbread. ‘And what about your family, Dr Cartwright?’

  ‘I’m an only child, I’m afraid. My father’s long gone and my mother’s on the Isle of Skye. It’s very much Amanda’s show, as you can imagine.’

  Sidney tried to smile but he could already tell that this encounter was going to be tough. He reminded the couple of the introduction of the ceremony itself: that marriage was not to be enterprised lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly and in the fear of God.

  ‘We know all that,’ Amanda replied impatiently. ‘We’ve both been to plenty of weddings.’

  ‘But you haven’t, as far as I am aware, taken vows before God yourselves.’

  ‘Certainly not.’

  Sidney looked at Anthony Cartwright and waited for his answer. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘Of course I haven’t. Amanda is the love of my life.’

  ‘I suppose, then, we should start by thinking about that phrase: “the love of my life”. I have views on the matter but it might be helpful to hear yours first. What do you think it means when someone says, “You are the love of my life”?’

  Amanda crossed her legs at her ankles. ‘I thought you were doing the marriage guidance.’

  ‘This is preparation,’ Sidney replied. ‘Guidance comes when things are falling apart.’ Again he tried to smile but his heart just wasn’t in it. ‘And I don’t think you’ve got to that stage yet.’

  ‘I don’t intend to get to it either.’

  ‘Good.’ Sidney turned to Cartwright. ‘You understand, both of you, that marriage is for life? It has to exist after the thrill of early love has gone.’

  ‘I don’t think ours will go, Amanda, do you?’

  ‘I should jolly well hope not. I’m expecting years of unadulterated passion.’

  ‘Some people are, of course, fortunate,’ Sidney replied. ‘But my task is to make you think of all eventualities: not only the joys of children . . .’

  ‘I don’t think we’ll be having any children . . .’ Cartwright interrupted.

  Amanda backed him up. ‘I think we are agreed on that.’

  ‘But also sickness, ill fortune, even death.’

  ‘Oh, Sidney, this is very gloomy,’ Amanda cut in.

  ‘I don’t mean to be.’

  ‘Shouldn’t this be a cheerful occasion?’

  ‘Of course, the service itself is a great moment of celebration both of God’s love for mankind and of your love for each other. But we can only enjoy ourselves once the solemnities have been observed. The use of the word “solemn” is deliberate.’

  ‘And the church in Sloane Street is quite dark,’ Cartwright mused.

  ‘Mummy’s going to fill it with flowers. And it’s going to be a wonderful sunny day. I just know it.’

  ‘I am sure it will be,’ Sidney conceded. ‘And I know we are all looking forward to it. But before we get to that happy day I am also charged to ask you whether you are true Christian believers?’

  ‘Oh for goodness sake, of course we are. You know that. We go to church.’

  ‘That is not always the same thing.’ Sidney was not going to make it easy for them. He turned to Amanda’s fiancé once more. ‘Dr Cartwright, we have only met on one occasion and so I must ask you to answer. Have you been baptised and confirmed?’

  ‘I have.’

  ‘And do you believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth? And in Jesus Christ, His only-begotten Son our Lord?’

  ‘I wouldn’t quite put it as strongly as that.’

  ‘Then how would you put it?’

  Amanda was exasperated. ‘This is awfully serious, Sidney. If you carry on like this we’ll have to consider finding someone else to take the service. The vicar’s already put out that you’re doing it. He’s insisted on saying a few words even though he’s got one of those annoying clergy voices that goes up and down all the time.’

  ‘I think you will find all priests very much the same if you want to be married in a church. If the religious commitment is all too much for you then may I remind you that there is always the registry office.’ Sidney did not intend to sound pompous but he was not going to allow Amanda to use
their friendship to get an easy ride.

  ‘Registry office?’ she almost spat. ‘Isn’t that for runaways and adulterers?’

  ‘I am only reminding you that you have that choice. In the meantime, I must repeat my question to you, Anthony.’ Sidney used Cartwright’s formal Christian name deliberately. ‘Dost thou believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy Catholic Church; the communion of saints; the remission of sins; the resurrection of the flesh; and everlasting life after death?’

  ‘I do, I suppose.’

  ‘Supposing isn’t good enough.’

  ‘Very well, I do.’

  Amanda cut in again. ‘You are being very fierce, Sidney. Are you going to ask me all these questions?’

  ‘Of course. In fact, Amanda, you might find me even tougher when it’s your turn.’

  ‘I think you’re punishing me for marrying Tony rather than you.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Sidney, angry that she should refer directly to their friendship. ‘I am simply making sure that you know what you are doing. Believe me, you’ll thank me for it in the end.’

  ‘I think we’ll be the judge of that.’

  ‘No,’ Sidney replied. ‘God will be.’ He couldn’t quite work out what had got into him and why he was so intensely irritated but he wasn’t going to have his faith passed over for the sake of social nicety.

  The following Tuesday was a university teaching morning, and Sidney bicycled over to Corpus in good time to put some first-year undergraduates through their theological paces. As he approached the college, he realised that he was unusually early, and thought he would take a detour to see if he could find his colleague Neville Meldrum, the eminent astrophysicist. There were a few questions he wanted to ask.

  Professor Meldrum was a man of fastidious precision in his late forties, and he was probably the best-dressed fellow in the college. He wore elegant three-piece suits from Savile Row (his father had been an Edwardian dandy), crisp white shirts with starched collars, and his handmade shoes were beautifully polished.

  He was preparing for the morning’s academic work, wiping clean a blackboard in the lecture hall that was filled with calculations Sidney could not hope to understand, setting out monochromatic absorption coefficients and opacities in stellar interiors. Sidney could just about remember the chemical symbols. ‘You should come to a few lectures,’ Meldrum encouraged. ‘It would help you keep abreast of the space race.’

  ‘It looks very complicated.’

  ‘No more so than theology and ancient Greek. We could exchange tutorials.’

  ‘I think I stopped at the periodic table.’

  ‘You should start again. We’re moving on to discuss dark matter. Although,’ Meldrum paused for effect, ‘I imagine you have dark matters of your own.’

  Sidney had forgotten the limitations of Neville Meldrum’s humour but he liked the man for his extreme precision. He spent his life in search of clarity and Sidney knew that he should get to the point as quickly as possible. His colleague acknowledged that he did not know Anthony Cartwright personally but had, indeed, heard of him as they had both applied for the same post in 1954: a research fellowship at the Royal Observatory, Greenwich.

  Sidney began by asking how much their fields of scientific enquiry overlapped and if his friend could throw any light on Anthony Cartwright’s desire to build a resonator circuit and his work in the United States.

  ‘The Americans are ahead of us here, constructing microwave amplifiers, quantum oscillators and infrared lasers, so he’s on to something. But who is funding his trips across the Atlantic and all his lab work? I wonder if it’s Bell Labs, or an American university like Columbia? A few physicists even have their research specifically funded by private donation.’

  ‘That would be Amanda.’

  ‘Miss Kendall? Forgive me, Sidney, I know she is a formidable woman but surely she is no expert in quantum mechanics?’

  ‘Indeed not.’

  Neville Meldrum was sufficiently surprised to distract himself with a course of action over which he had immediate control. He began to sort through his lecture notes in preparation for the next set of undergraduates. ‘I’m sure Cartwright’s intentions are honourable,’ he said to himself.

  ‘Are you?’

  Neville looked up. ‘No, of course I’m not, Sidney. I’m just saying so to be polite, although I can’t quite imagine a man marrying a woman simply to fund his research.’

  ‘People do marry for money, Neville.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose they do.’

  Sidney guessed that his colleague was holding something back. ‘What is it, Neville?’

  ‘The odd thing is that I thought Cartwright was married already.’ He checked his notes once more. ‘Perhaps the wife died.’

  ‘They certainly haven’t said anything about that to me.’

  ‘You would think they might mention it. It is peculiar if he hasn’t, don’t you think? I’m pretty sure they lived in Cornwall for a while. I think she breeds dogs. She was definitely Cornish. I remember hearing people say that she was quite fierce about it; wanted independence for the county and said she’d never wanted to leave – which is a bit of a handicap if you are an astrophysicist. There aren’t too many opportunities for them in Cornwall.’

  ‘There’s Exeter, I suppose, but that’s in Devon.’

  ‘The curious thing is that when he went to London I think they bought a place in King’s Lynn. I’ve no idea why. Perhaps she couldn’t face living in the capital. Although if you’re going to live in King’s Lynn you might as well be in Cornwall. You’d probably get more visitors.’

  ‘This is very alarming,’ Sidney replied. ‘How easy do you think it would be to find out if he’s still married to her? I don’t want Amanda to enter into a bigamous marriage.’

  ‘Indeed not,’ said Professor Meldrum, before adding a thought that had, as yet, remained unspoken. ‘Then Cartwright really would have to be in two places at the same time.’

  On the Saturday Amanda was singing in a late-afternoon concert given by the Bach Choir at the Festival Hall and she persuaded Sidney to join both her and Tony Cartwright for drinks afterwards. There were, she informed him, quite a few matters to discuss, not least the amount of time he thought it necessary to give to religious preparation before the wedding.

  ‘I don’t know why we’re having to go through all this so thoroughly. It’s lovely that you want to see us but we can’t all be as religious as you, Sidney.’

  ‘Sometimes I feel I’m not religious enough – but we’re not here to talk about me.’

  Cartwright went to the bar to order the drinks. Alone together for the first time since the engagement, Amanda was keen to seek Sidney’s approval. ‘Isn’t Tony marvellous?’ she asked him.

  ‘He’s certainly very intelligent,’ Sidney replied. ‘An original choice.’

  ‘You were expecting one of my posh friends whom you automatically assume to be dim?’

  ‘I had no expectations in that matter, I promise. But you’ve surprised us all. I hope you’ll be very happy together.’

  ‘I’m glad you approve.’

  ‘It does seem quite a hasty decision, Amanda.’

  ‘I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you’re implying.’

  ‘No. It’s not that.’

  ‘Then what is the matter? I can tell that you are holding back.’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ Sidney lied.

  ‘I’m not getting any younger . . .’

  ‘Do you think you know each other well enough?’ Sidney asked. ‘Have you met his family and friends? Do you know what he really believes? Has he been involved with anyone else? What do you think he is looking for in a relationship?’

  ‘Goodness, Sidney, those are far too many questions to answer all in one go. We love each other. Isn’t that enough?’

  ‘It’s only that I’ve always thought that love needs strong foundations. You have to make sure they are secure before you build a marriage.’

  Amanda could s
ee that Tony was paying for the drinks and was about to return. ‘Yes, of course, Sidney, I understand all that. It’s very odd, isn’t it, you doling out all this marital advice without being married yourself?’

  ‘I am aware of my limitations.’

  ‘Perhaps you’ll know soon enough. Tony and I are expecting to come to Germany in the next year or two,’ she said, impishly.

  ‘You’ve told him about Hildegard?’

  ‘I had to assure Tony you were a man with your heart in the right place.’ Cartwright was smiling as he returned with the drinks. ‘He thought you were a pansy.’ Amanda looked dotingly towards her fiancé. ‘Didn’t you, darling?’

  Sidney was badly in need of Geordie Keating’s advice but when they next met for their regular night of backgammon in the Eagle his friend was out of sorts. His eldest daughter, Maggie, was walking out with her first boyfriend and the inspector was struggling to come to terms with it.

  ‘It’s the end of childhood,’ he complained. ‘Maggie’s not my little girl any more. I wish she was still seven.’

  ‘We cannot halt the advance of time, Geordie. In a year or two, I’m sure you’ll both still love each other. And you’ll always be her dad.’

  ‘But I have no influence on her any more. It’s all Davie, Davie, Davie . . .’

  ‘And what does Davie do?’

  ‘Nothing that’s going to make any money. He wants to be some kind of pop singer. They asked me for the cash to get a coach to Liverpool. Apparently it’s all happening up there. She’s only sixteen so I said no. What do they think they’re playing at?’

  ‘You don’t want her running away. She might do that, you know.’

  ‘Are you suggesting I should just approve of the whole thing and go along with it?’

  ‘I am suggesting that you do not fall out with her. That is a very different thing. She is still more dependent on you than she will admit, either in public or to you. Try not to lose your temper, Geordie, and be patient. They come back to you in the end.’

  ‘I don’t know how you know all this.’

  ‘I do have a sister.’

  ‘The one that shares a flat with Miss Kendall? How’s she getting on, by the way?’