Yesterday's Sins

by James Green

  There was almost a pleading in her voice. Charlie stood up and took her hand.

  ‘Of course. Go and get a suit that will knock a Paris shop girl’s eye out and when you come back I’ll have it all arranged.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Elspeth stood up and pulled on the jacket. Then she went to the dressing table and picked up her handbag.

  ‘Did you read your letters? Anything interesting?’

  ‘No, nothing. Nothing important. Angela’s still trying to get that awful family of hers into St Anthony’s. She wants me to agree that Daddy should go into a home.’

  ‘What a bunch. I’m glad I got the one who’s the exception to the rule. What was the other one?’

  Elspeth paused. Her mind was racing. Confront him? Tell him? Lie to him? Do not warn him or your life will be in danger.

  ‘Er, that was a note from ...’ Charlie waited, suddenly alert. ‘From Fr Nguyen. I wasn’t going to tell you because, well, you know how you get when ... he didn’t want to bother me in person but he wanted me, us, to ...’ Charlie waited. ‘He wanted us to donate some money for a centre they’re trying to establish in Odense for immigrants. There’s a big Vietnamese population and lots of them are Catholics. I suppose he must have got our name from someone.’

  Charlie relaxed.

  ‘My God, priests. It’s always money, isn’t it? Did he say how much?’

  ‘No, just that he was contacting Catholics who lived anywhere near Odense.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll cough up. We always do. You get going to Copenhagen and I’ll start sorting out the bookings.’ He walked to the bedroom door. ‘And make sure the suit will knock them dead in Paris. No expense spared. I’ll claim it as a business expense. Who knows, I might even actually get a bit of business done.’

  And he was gone.

  Elspeth stood for a moment hardly daring to breath. Then she walked to the living room doorway.

  ‘Bye, Charlie.’

  He didn’t look round from the desk. ‘Bye.’

  Elspeth left the bungalow and walked quickly towards the station. She pulled out her mobile and dialled.

  ‘Father Mundt? Oh, Mr Costello, is Father Mundt in? May I speak with him? Yes, it’s important.’ She walked on as she waited for Fr Mundt to come to the phone. ‘Hello, Father. I need to talk to you. Yes it’s urgent. As soon as possible, this afternoon. I’m on my way to the station now. Yes, I can tell you. It’s about someone called Yuri Kemedov.’ There was a silence. Then Udo answered. ‘Thank you, Father, I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  Udo put the phone down and went back to the living room.

  ‘That was Elspeth Bronski.’

  ‘I thought I recognised the voice.’

  ‘She’s coming to see me.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘She’s on her way to the station at Nyborg now. She should be here in a couple of hours.’

  ‘What does she want.’

  ‘She wants to talk to me about someone called Yuri Kemedov.’

  Jimmy put down his book. ‘Oh, Jesus. What will you do?’

  ‘What can I do? If she asks I’ll tell her.’

  ‘And if Bronski finds out?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Oh, Christ. What a mess.’

  ‘Yes, as you say, a mess.’ And Udo went out.

  Jimmy was sitting in a chair. He picked up the book he was reading and looked absently at the page.

  “Marcellus of Ancyra, however, according to the testimony of Eusebius, held that there was one tri-personal, thrice-named hypostasis in God ...”

  What did it all mean? Who had told her about Kemedov and why was she bringing it to Udo? Thank God I can walk away from this one. Whatever problems Bronski is going to have with his wife aren’t anything to do with me. Jimmy stood up and went to the doorway of the study. It was open and Udo was working.

  ‘I’ll go and do some hospital visits when she comes.’

  Udo didn’t bother to look up. He kept on working.

  ‘Sure, Jimmy. This is my affair, it’s nothing to do with you. I’ll get on with some work here until she arrives.’

  Jimmy went back to the living room and picked up his book. “... and Eusebius judged that this opinion was openly Sabellian.”

  He closed it. What a mess, but things were always a mess. Nothing changed. Nothing ever bloody well did.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Udo answered the door.

  ‘Hello, Elspeth, please come in.’ Udo led the way to the living room. ‘Sit down.’

  ‘Thank you, Father.’

  They sat down and Udo waited. Elspeth half-smiled then looked round the room avoiding Udo’s eyes. Udo waited. Elspeth looked at him, almost spoke, then looked down at her handbag. She was having trouble getting started, wanted to talk but didn’t know how to begin. It didn’t matter because Udo could start it for her.

  ‘Ask me your question, Elspeth. It’s why you’ve come, so ask it.’

  She looked up, slightly startled. Then she understood.

  ‘Is it true?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Elspeth held her handbag on her lap with both hands. She looked down at it for support but it remained stubbornly neutral, as handbags do. She looked at Udo looking at her, waiting. She couldn’t bear his eyes on her. She looked at the window and studied the pattern on the net curtains. Small flowers with twiddly bits in between. Cheap and common. A priest should have better in his house. She looked back at her handbag. It still reserved judgement.

  ‘Would you like a drink, tea or coffee?’ She didn’t answer. ‘Perhaps something stronger?’

  Elspeth looked up. She never drank spirits. Hugh had taught her that strong drink made women prone to sins of the flesh and that beer was a plebeian drink, coarse and common, a drink for the working classes, something to replace the sweat of hard physical labour. Ladies didn’t sweat. If a woman wanted alcohol then it should be wine. But only in moderation and never port.

  ‘Yes please, Father, I’d like something to drink.’

  ‘Tea, coffee?’

  ‘Something stronger. A large one.’

  It was a phrase she had heard Charlie use.

  ‘Sure. Vodka. Would that be all right?’

  ‘Are you having a drink, Father?’

  ‘Yes, and drop the Father, Elspeth. If you want to call me anything, make it Udo.’

  ‘I’ll have whatever you have.’

  ‘Fine.’

  Udo got up and left. Elspeth took a handkerchief out of her handbag. There were no tears yet, just fear. In the train, she had found a hundred ways to tell herself it wasn’t true, that it was all just some horrible story. A malicious letter written to hurt Charlie through her. But she had known, deep inside, that she was only finding one of a hundred ways to avoid admitting it was the truth. What do you do when your whole world suddenly comes to an end, when you suddenly find you don’t know your husband and you don’t know yourself? Who was she now?

  Udo returned, put a glass on the table in front of her and sat down. He took a drink and waited. Tentatively she picked up the chunky tumbler of clear liquid. It looked harmless, like water. She took a very small sip. It didn’t taste of anything. Was she now a fallen woman? She found the words eventually.

  ‘Can you tell me anything?’

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Who is Yuri Kemedov?’

  ‘Yuri Kemedov worked for the Soviet Secret Service, the KGB. When the Soviet Union was disbanded, he worked for Russian Intelligence. He wasn’t so very high up or important but the British thought he was worth buying when he offered to defect. They gave him a new identity and a new life. He became Charles Bronski and went to live in England. After that you know more about him than I do.’

  Elspeth put the glass down and opened her handbag. She took out the letter and handed it to Udo.

  ‘Read it please, Father.’ Udo didn’t correct her. He took the envelope from her, took out the letter and read it. Then
he put it back into the envelope and handed it back. Elspeth took it and sat for a moment looking at it. ‘Is it true? Did he kill people?’

  ‘He may have done. I know he had people killed.’

  ‘Isn’t that the same thing?’

  ‘No. The hand that holds the gun does the killing. Yuri gave the orders.’

  Suddenly words she had heard many times in her life slipped into her head, words that had never had any impact when they were part of the routine Gospel readings in Mass. They had never really meant anything, just words you listened to reverently. Holy but meaningless words that somehow saved you from Hell.

  You would have no power over me at all if it had not been given to you from above. That is why the man who handed me over to you has the greater guilt. Those who handed Jesus over to Pilate for execution had the greater guilt.

  She had been wrong about the words. They didn’t save you from Hell. They put you there.

  ‘Did he order the killing of the people in the letter? The sister and the father.’

  ‘He had the sister killed. The father committed suicide.’

  ‘And were there many others?’

  ‘Enough.’

  There was a silence. Udo took a drink and waited. She would have to do this in her own way, he couldn’t help. He waited. Elspeth took a sip, then a big drink and immediately choked. She held her handkerchief to her mouth as she coughed and spluttered. She almost threw the glass on to the table. It fell over and what was left of the drink spilled as the glass rolled over and fell to the floor. Udo watched. Elspeth finally got control of herself. Her eyes were watering but it was not tears. She sat for a moment, breathing carefully. Then she noticed the table and the glass on the floor.

  ‘Oh dear. I’m so sorry, Father.’ She looked around in a vague way and then remembered the handkerchief she was still holding. She mopped up the vodka with it then bent down and picked up the glass, put it on the table and put the damp handkerchief in her handbag. Udo watched. He had seen it all before. People trying to deal with something that couldn’t be dealt with. People trying to hang on to a normality that was utterly gone. Elspeth calmed down and looked at Udo. It was time.

  ‘What shall I do?’

  ‘What do you want to do?’

  It was not the answer she expected, nor the one she wanted. She wanted to be told what to do. Priests did that. They told you what to do. You told them your sins and they forgave you in God’s name and then named God’s price. Always a small price, just a few words, meaningless holy words that saved you from Hell. ‘Say three Hail Marys and make a good Act of Contrition’ was what she wanted. You said your penance and everything was right again. They didn’t ask you what you wanted to do.

  ‘I don’t know. Is there anything I can do?’

  Udo though about it. It was a very sensible question. He was slightly surprised. Elspeth had always struck him as a woman who allowed herself to be ruled by others, someone who had never developed any real personality. A beautiful but essentially empty person. Now, as she sat there looking at him, waiting for his answer, she seemed to be changing. Unless he was mistaken, the emotion which she had finally allowed to emerge was not fear but anger.

  ‘Stay or go.’

  She thought about it.

  ‘And that’s all? Stay with him or leave him?’

  ‘It’s all I can think of.’

  ‘Are you, as a priest, telling me I should stay with a man I’m not married to? A man it turns out I was never married to?’

  ‘No, not as a priest. As a friend. As a priest I would have to say that now you know the truth about your supposed marriage, any continuance of your sexual union would be sinful. But, frankly, Elspeth, sinful or not sinful isn’t the issue here.’

  ‘The letter said I could be in danger if he found out I knew who he really was. Is that right?’

  Udo nodded. ‘Very much so.’

  ‘Well, I don’t believe you, either of you. I think whoever wrote that letter wants to get at Charlie through me. I think Charlie isn’t the same man who did those horrible things, if anyone did them. I think he wanted to start a new life and did. He loves me and is trying to be a good man and a good husband. If any of it is true, I think he’s trying to make up for what he did in the past. If he ever was as you say then he’s changed. And as for sinful, well you can ...’ she paused to summon up her courage, ‘well you can fuck your sinful and you can fuck your Church.’ There, it hadn’t been so bad. Swearing out loud wasn’t so difficult, nor even so terrible. All you needed to do was say the words. Then suddenly the fact that she had said them to this man, a priest, in his own home crashed in on her mind. ‘Oh, Father, I’m sorry, so sorry. I didn’t mean ...’

  And a lifetime of oppression and Catholic guilt crushed the small flame of rebellion, snuffed it out. She lowered her eyes and awaited her punishment. It would be very terrible, she knew, but she would deserve it.

  ‘Yes, I know how you feel. I sometimes feel the same myself. But I’m afraid you’re wrong about Charlie. He hasn’t changed. He can’t change and I don’t think he wants to try. If he thinks you know the truth about him, my guess is that he will kill you.’

  Elspeth looked up at Udo. This wasn’t any kind of priest she’d ever known. This was a glimpse of that shyest of animals in her limited world, the man behind the priest. And he was telling her the truth.

  ‘How can you be sure?’

  ‘Because a few days ago he went to Lübeck and killed two people. It was the price that British Intelligence wanted to keep him safe. His was the hand that held the gun this time; it was someone else who ordered the killings.

  ‘Oh my God.’ Then a thought occurred to her. ‘How do you know so much about him, about what he was and what he did?’

  ‘Because I worked for him, amongst others. We were both in the same line of business. God forgive me, mine was the hand that held the gun. I was the one who carried out the orders that the likes of Yuri gave.’

  Elspeth tried to let it sink in. Then a small light dawned. ‘But you, you’ve changed. Why couldn’t Charlie, if he loves me? Do you think he loves me?’

  ‘Possibly. I think you are a person someone could easily love. But even if he loves you, he won’t let that stand in the way of what he thinks he has to do to protect himself. Lose one wife and you can always get another. Lose your life and it’s permanent.’

  ‘Then I can’t stay. I can’t live with him and pretend I know nothing. He’d find out just as if I told him.’

  ‘You’ll go?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll run away like some scared little girl.’

  ‘Have you any experience of running?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Do you have money, can you get papers in another name or could you get them? Do you have somewhere to run where Yuri couldn’t follow or find you? If he comes after you, could you be ready for him and kill him before he kills you? What if he pays someone to do it for him? You understand? It’s not so easy to run in situations like this. You wouldn’t know how and Yuri is a trained professional. People like me and him were trained to find people and do what had to be done.’

  He wasn’t helping, he was advising and then throwing difficulties in her path.

  ‘But if I can’t stay and I can’t run, what can I do?’

  ‘There’s only one thing you can do ...’

  Elspeth knew what was coming. The priest was back. The man had gone. Her anger returned. Anger was all that was left.

  ‘I know. I’ve heard it a hundred times. Pray. Prayer is the answer. Put it all in God’s hands. Prayer was the answer when Daddy wouldn’t let me apply for university. The nuns at school listened and said I should pray about it. Well, I prayed, but I still didn’t go to university. And when I asked priests what I should do about Daddy bullying me into staying at home to be his unpaid housekeeper instead of having a life of my own, the answer was always: pray about it. And I prayed. I prayed and I prayed until Charlie came along and just swept Daddy aside and ma
rried me. I thought God had finally heard me, that Charlie was the answer to my prayers. But he can’t be, can he? Not if he’s who you say he is. He was just someone else, like Daddy, who wanted to use me. So what’s the good of praying? It will change nothing. Don’t tell me to pray, I’ve tried it and it doesn’t work.’

  The anger was in full flow and Udo was glad, it was better than despair.

  ‘I wasn’t going to tell you to pray about it. Pray about it if you like. It would be good to pray about it. But like you said, it won’t change Yuri. Nothing will change Yuri.’

  Elspeth’s anger disappeared. This man wasn’t the one who had destroyed her world.

  ‘So what were you going to say?’

  ‘Choose bad.’

  ‘Bad?’

  ‘When your choice is between bad and worse, choose bad, not worse. Work out which is bad and which is worse, staying or running. Then do whichever is the bad option, not the worse. I’m sorry, it’s all I can suggest.’

  Elspeth thought about it. ‘I could go to the police.’

  She wasn’t hopeful. She had thought about it a lot on the train. What did she actually know? Only what was in the letter and there wasn’t even a name on the letter. True, she now had Fr Mundt’s confirmation, but was that worth anything?

  ‘Yes, you could go to the police.’

  ‘Would it do any good?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Would you tell them what you told me?’

  ‘What have I told you?’ Elspeth didn’t understand. ‘All I have told you is that a long time ago Charlie had another name and did another job. So what? Now he has a new name and is a British citizen with a history which he can prove and which the British government, if asked, will back up. What could the police do? And once you’d told them, Yuri would know.’

  ‘But he couldn’t kill me then, could he?’

  ‘If you mean would he put a gun to your head and blow your brains out, no, he wouldn’t do that. But there are many ways to make someone die, more than you can imagine.’ Elspeth looked down at her handbag. It offered no comfort. There was no comfort anywhere. ‘What did you tell him?’

  Elspeth looked up. ‘About what?’