by Iain Pears
‘I know all the words. I just don’t believe any of them at the moment.’
‘You have done well, Jay. Henary would be proud of you. Will be proud, I can say. You kept my secret from Pamarchon until Rosalind decided to intervene – although quite how we got away with that one I cannot say. You will be a great Storyteller. You have played your part for Callan, and it was your idea to approach Esilio to avoid bloodshed. You have done more than enough.’
He glanced at her. ‘I fear I cannot finish yet.’
‘Why not?’
‘I need to be your advocate at the Shrine.’
‘You are not trained,’ she said with vehemence. ‘You don’t know the facts, and might well have to oppose someone who does. It’s a specialised calling. You can’t just stand up and speak, you know that. For a village theft, maybe. Not when lives are at stake, and the entire fate of Willdon.’
‘You see, Callan told me that—’
‘No! You must not say. You know you must not, not while he is alive. It would be a terrible breach of confidence.’
‘Then I must simply say it again. Appoint me to be your advocate. Tell me everything you can in confidence,’ Jay said eventually. ‘I will be able to discharge the duty Callan laid on me without revealing anything which may cast you in a bad light. Do you understand what I am saying?’
She hesitated for a long while before she spoke again. ‘You have thought this through?’
‘I have.’
‘Then I must trust you and place myself in your hands. Are you ready to listen to my story?’
‘I am.’
‘All I ask is that you do not judge me until the end.’
*
‘I am, as you know, Catherine of Willdon, widow of Thenald, who was my equal in birth and dignity,’ she began. ‘I won Willdon on his death because of my status. Someone of my background could be trusted, it was felt, to represent the domain and look after it until it returned to the family line, as it would on my death.
‘I have not displeased. My rule was confirmed at the first Abasement. I went away, returned and was restored by universal acclaim, so much so that now Gontal doesn’t even bother to show up. In all things, in all ways, I have done my people honour in my behaviour.’
She paused and looked at him carefully as he nodded.
‘Unfortunately,’ she continued, ‘that is all a complete lie. I was not the equal of my husband in birth or family. I obtained my husband, and Willdon, through fraud.’
There was a very long silence as Jay digested this.
‘You are known throughout the land as the finest woman in Anterwold,’ he said. ‘Nothing I have seen in the past few days has done anything to contradict that.’
‘I am touched by the compliment, but it is true, nonetheless. I will not dwell on my birth and upbringing, but I came from a poor place, a long way away. For many years I lived a hard life, with hard people. I lived as they did, hand to mouth, with never-ending labour. There was a sort of pestilence on the land. Cruel people commanded us, and few had the spirit to protest. It happens, more often than you think.
‘I left as soon as I could, and went without saying farewell. I came to richer and kinder lands and did what was necessary: I stole, slept rough, worked for shelter and clothes, met other wanderers, formed friendships for the first time. I listened to their stories and was captivated. I watched others, boys and girls from much better families. I kept quiet and absorbed everything. I learned about people, how to persuade and cajole, how to settle disputes and keep the peace. Above all I learned how to listen, to go through what people say to what they mean. It is now my greatest talent. One boy I met was going to be a student, and he was full of Ossenfud and the scholars. So I followed him there. I was already donning my disguise, becoming the mysterious, beautiful Catherine.
‘Henary found me out. He was curious about the young woman sitting in rapt attention as he spoke, who seemed to live nowhere, know no one. I was twenty by then; hardened and experienced from my life, but never, ever showing it. He questioned me, befriended me and gradually instructed me. I impressed him; I had taught myself much, and had not found it difficult in the slightest. He wanted me to become a student, but I could not; your family has to be entered into the rolls; you have to inform them of the great honour done to their name. So I said no and, one night, I told him what I am now telling you.
‘The reason I love Henary is that it did not matter to him. “I thought you were an intelligent, thoughtful and beautiful woman who had made the best of the many advantages that a good family had bestowed on her,” he told me. “Now I think you are even more remarkable, for you make your own advantage.” It made him appreciate me all the more, but he did accept that few would agree. We were thinking about it when I decided to go on a pilgrimage to Esilio’s grave at Willdon. There I met Thenald, and he fell in love with me.’
‘You do not say that you fell in love with him.’
‘Because I did not. He was a refuge for me. To me he was not a bad man, because he was entranced by me, but gradually I saw that to all others he was not good. He was a great believer in his rights and others’ duties. All must be as all had ever been and ever would be. Any deviation he found dangerous, and he reacted to it with violence. He was often heartless when a little kindness would have resolved an issue. He thought only in terms of whether people were below him or above him in family, and there were few above him, so he seemed impossibly proud. He wasn’t really. Just frightened.
‘He was also lazy, which was his best quality. I easily took over running the household, tempered his harshness, and was beginning to know how to run the domain. I would have tamed him eventually, but he found out who I was.’
‘Did he?’
She nodded. ‘He wanted to contact my family, of course he did, but I put him off for a long time. Before we married he sent Callan without telling me, but Callan lied for me and said my family had gone on pilgrimage and could not be contacted for worldly matters. But Thenald got the truth from him. He discovered that I had lied; I was nothing. He said he was going to divorce me and make sure that I was cast out utterly and in shame.
‘He was murdered instead, the next day. Instead of being cast out, I was chosen to rule Willdon.’
‘Henary knows this?’
‘Yes. He never once questioned me or doubted me.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘Callan. Did he not say any of this when you took his story?’
‘I cannot say. You know that. But tell me now; I want to hear it from your mouth. Did you murder Thenald?’
‘No,’ she said firmly and without hesitation. ‘I did not.’
‘Forgive me for asking an impertinent question, but why not?’
She burst out laughing. ‘Oh, Jay! Why not? A good question, but not one I have ever considered. Because I believe in … what would you call it? Fate, if you like. How much would you have me do to safeguard myself? Kill Thenald, then overturn the whole of Anterwold? I could invade the grave of Esilio, cart Pamarchon away and just kill him. I could silence Henary, and you and Callan, for ever. My people would follow me. I could then take on the might of Ossenfud and subdue that, if it were necessary; it is hardly well defended. But I don’t want to; once this starts, it never ends.’
‘Do you think Pamarchon killed him, then?’
‘I used to. I was convinced, genuinely convinced, that he was responsible. I never questioned it. Now – having watched him for three days? Seen him with Rosalind? Now I am not so sure.’
53
‘Hello, Professor,’ Rosie said as she appeared at the top of the stairs and saw that Lytten was not alone. ‘Who are these people?’
Then Angela. ‘Sam!’ she called out. ‘How nice to see you again. Sergeant Maltby too! And who are you, young man?’
‘This is not the time, Angela, I’m afraid,’ Sam Wind said, sounding oddly apologetic. ‘We need to ask you some questions.’
‘By all means. Go ahead.’
‘I’m a bit busy today, I’m afraid. What with one thing and another.’
‘I must insist.’
‘And I must decline, Sam Wind. I said I’m busy.’
Wind nodded at Maltby. ‘If you would do the honours, Sergeant …?’
‘Angela Meerson, I am arresting you on suspicion of offences under the Official Secrets Act.’
Angela stopped, her mouth half open in surprise. ‘Really? What simply extraordinary timing. Are you sure you can’t come back tomorrow?’
‘No. This is not a joke. Please come with us without making a fuss. It will be much easier.’
‘I’m sure. What offences? Henry? Has Sam here lost his wits at last?’
‘If you want my opinion, I think he may have done,’ he replied. ‘But he has a small army out there and so it would be best if you did as instructed. It’s nothing to worry about. It happens to all of us sooner or later, if that’s any consolation. I was taken off and interrogated for three days back in … when was it, Sam?’
‘1954, I think.’
‘That’s right.’
‘I wish I had your confidence.’ Angela turned to Rosie, who was standing with an air of astonishment behind her. ‘More interesting than being at school, eh?’
She nodded.
‘I fear I must ask you to take over for a while. A little show and tell with Henry. Do you know what I mean? Then you have to open it at dusk. Six turns of the little saucepan from where we are. It’s really important. Dusk. Are you up to it? Can you remember?’
‘I think so,’ she said quietly.
‘Good. Rosie is an extraordinary girl, Henry. I want you to listen to her. When she is finished, I will need to see you. At your earliest convenience, please.’
She smiled at Wind. ‘Lead on, Sam Wind. If it makes you feel better.’
‘Professor Lytten, what have you done?’ Rosie exclaimed after she had watched Angela, head high, being led to a police car, put into the back and driven off. One by one the other cars and vans followed, and in a few minutes the street was its usual self once more, apart from the faces trying hard not to be noticed in the windows of every neighbouring house.
‘Rosie, you must go to school, or something. I have no time to talk to you at the moment, and it is certainly none of your business.’ Lytten seemed weary and perplexed by what had happened. She had never seen him like that before.
‘I have to show you something. It’s very important.’
‘No, Rosie. I’m sorry. Please go. You know how much I like you, but you shouldn’t be here in the first place, and I do not wish to discuss the matter.’
‘I do want to discuss it.’
‘Go away.’
‘No.’
‘I will begin to get very angry indeed with you if you—’
He didn’t get to finish what would undoubtedly have been a very pompous sentence. Rosie pressed her lips together and poked him in the chest with her finger.
‘Do not lecture me,’ she said in a furious voice. ‘This is all your fault, and Angela is trying to put it right. So you will listen.’
‘I will do no—’
‘Downstairs. Now,’ she said in a loud, authoritative voice. Lytten had not heard the like since the terrifying Miss Barton in primary school and so, naturally, he fell silent and obeyed.
‘Keep going. Right down to the bottom.’
He would give her three minutes, he thought, then he’d bring this nonsense to an end. He liked the girl but he would have to forbid her from coming to his house any more. Jenkins would miss her.
‘Right, Henry Lytten. I am going to show you something. Something Angela built. Then I will explain what it is.’
She started a sort of ridiculous dance, going down on one knee and spinning around and playing with the old kettle.
‘Rosie. Stop this now.’
‘Oh!’ she said. ‘You’ve broken my concentration. I’ll have to start again. Just shut up for a few seconds, will you?’ Giving him a ferocious glare, she began again, twirling round, kneeling down and chanting. Then she peered behind him and smiled. ‘Ha!’
‘Very funny,’ said Lytten.
‘Look,’ she said, and pointed.
Lytten scowled, turned around and stopped dead.
In front of him was the rusty old pergola that Angela had claimed was a sculpture. Except that the inside of it had started glowing, and he couldn’t see where the light was coming from. Even more strangely, the light changed colour, and then began to form into a picture. He could see a remarkably convincing image of grass and trees. There was a low stone wall, and in the far corner what seemed very like the altar in Poussin’s painting in the Louvre.
‘Now,’ Rosie said, ‘this is not a joke, not a film, not a television. Do you see those people there?’
Lytten looked carefully at a few figures who had appeared at the side.
‘Jay, Pamarchon, Henary, Catherine,’ Rosie continued. ‘All perfectly real and—’
‘That other one. She looks like you.’
‘Apparently it is me.’
‘Very clever. When did you two do this? I must say, it is very like what I had in mind. They all look remarkably as I imagined them. And that arena. Shrine of Esilio?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Wherever did you film it? Or get weather like that?’
‘You don’t listen, do you? It’s real. Angela made it. From your head.’
Lytten shook the very same head, trying to think a way round the joke. It was Rosie’s seriousness that unnerved him. He had a great deal of experience of undergraduate pranks and student acting. There was something unusually convincing about her intensity.
‘According to Angela,’ Rosie went on, ‘it’s a universe. A different one from ours. I think that’s what she said. But time is short. I certainly don’t understand enough to explain properly and I can see it’s going to be hard to convince you. So you’ll just have to go and look for yourself.’
She stopped. ‘Oh, heavens! I’m coming over. You stay there. I’d better get out of the way.’
She scuttled off to the side in a hurry, leaving Lytten looking blankly as a differently dressed Rosie appeared in the pergola. Manifestly the same person, but …
*
‘Professor!’ Rosalind through the pergola called. ‘I’m so glad to see you!’
‘Rosie?’ he replied carefully. ‘Is that really you?’
‘Yes, yes. It’s me. The one and only Rosie. You’ve no idea what’s been going on in the last few days. We really need your help here. Who killed Thenald?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Thenald; you must remember. Catherine marries Thenald. Thenald gets murdered, she inherits. You wrote all that.’
‘Did I? I remember killing him off, I don’t remember spelling out what happened to him.’
‘No, he was murdered. So who did it? You must tell me. It’s important.’
‘Why? It’s only a story.’
‘That’s the point. It’s not. It’s here and it’s real. The whole thing. I’m in it. Listen, I’ll come through and explain it all. It’s time I was back, anyway. They’ll be furious with me at school. Just a minute …’
‘No!’ said Rosie on Henry’s side of things. ‘She doesn’t know about me. She mustn’t. Stop her.’
Lytten didn’t know what was going on, still assumed it was some elaborate joke of unfathomable purpose, but Rosie’s tone held no joke in it. She was panicked.
‘How can I stop her?’
‘Do as I say. Walk through yourself and have a look. It’s not dangerous. I’ve done it. Well, you can see that. If I’m talking rubbish, then the only danger is that you’ll bump into the wall. When you’re through there, by the way, there’s one really important thing you have to do.’
‘What?’
‘Pretend it’s a play. You’re an actor in it. You have to get into your part. Don’t look at me like that; I know what I’m
talking about. It’s the only way of not going a little bit crazy. You’ll be fine. You wrote the play, after all. Think of yourself as an actor-manager, or something.’
Lytten noticed she was looking very serious. She, evidently, didn’t need to step through a pergola to go a little crazy.
‘Ridiculous,’ he said again. Then, determined to end this nonsense once and for all, he did as instructed.
54
I hadn’t been in prison since an unfortunate evening in late 1938 when I got into a brawl in a bar in Marseilles. I badly misinterpreted the friendliness of some strangers, one thing led to another, and I spent the night in jail. We all became good friends eventually.
The police being the British police of course were terribly good at arresting me, but hadn’t got a clue about what they should do after that. Questioning, they said. By whom? What about? Three of them stood in the corner, muttering to each other and occasionally glancing in my direction, while I smiled sweetly and fondled the old shopping bag I had brought as a prop. Bolt upright, knees together, I was the embodiment of innocence, which was fair enough; I hadn’t a clue why I was there, but I was sure I hadn’t done it.
Eventually one of the officers came over. ‘I’m afraid, Mrs Meerson …’
‘Miss, Miss,’ I said. ‘Once spoken for, never collected, that’s me. Just an old spinster, you know.’
‘Very far from that, I’m sure, miss. I’m afraid we must ask you to stay here for a few hours, until Mr Wind returns to question you.’
‘How exciting. Will you lock me in a cell? It’ll give me something to tell the girls at our next luncheon.’
Lovely. A nice quiet cell and a few hours of undisturbed rest. I persuaded them to bring me some water, popped another half tab and settled down to do a bit of serious work.
*
I should explain how this operates. What you do is unpack all the raw material and turn it over to the stimulated part of the brain. The result is presented a little like the memory of a dream; that is, through symbolism and association. The knack is to unwrap the significance of the images afterwards in order to retrieve the detailed calculations underlying them. In that sense it is a bit like the Tsou script, but vastly more subtle.