be they near to us or far. Sometimes, Sidney argued, the need for moral decency was closer to home than we thought. We might not necessarily, for example, behave as well with our loved ones as we did with friends or even colleagues and strangers. It was our Christian duty, therefore, to examine our consciences and understand that our greatest strength might be to show our weaknesses; to confess our failings, and acknowledge our helplessness; to become as open and defenceless as the Christ child who came amongst us.
(As soon as Sidney started talking about the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes he missed Anna all over again. In three weeks’ time she would be one year old. He was desperate to return home and see her.)
Amanda walked with him on the way back from church. After praising him for his sermon, she said that she was still concerned about Elizabeth. Sidney had brought their anxieties into focus. But how much should she confront a woman who kept saying that there was nothing to worry about when so clearly there was quite a lot going on, most obviously that Sir Mark was taking out his frustration on being unable to have an affair, and possibly on being blackmailed, by hitting his wife?
As they gathered for drinks before lunch, both Sidney and Hildegard spotted that Elizabeth appeared to have a new bruise on the back of her calf. It showed underneath her stockings. It was discreet, as if she had been kicked in order to make her fall down, and then, perhaps, struck again, but visible.
Dr Robinson had already noticed it and, at Sidney’s prompting, offered to take a closer look but their hostess refused. ‘Please don’t tell anyone. Especially Mark. It’s such a silly thing. I banged it on the car door. It’s my pale skin. I bruise very easily. I wouldn’t want anyone making a fuss. It happens all the time. I’m perfectly all right. I promise.’
‘Do you have any other bruises?’ Dr Robinson asked.
‘No. Not a scratch. We’re home now. I must check if everything is in order for the lunch. Mark hates it if the food is late. I’ll ask Nancy.’
‘Is that the maid your husband calls “Rita”?’ Sidney asked.
‘Yes, it’s his little joke; after Rita Hayworth. Gilda is his favourite film.’
‘Has she been with you long?’
‘A few months. Her mother is an old friend of Mark’s.’
‘Is it working out well?’
‘Mark likes her and that’s generally what matters. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .’
There was roast lamb for lunch, a good-enough claret and a treacle sponge with custard for pudding. Sidney was patronised about his sermon and Hildegard was asked once more about the war, explaining yet again that, no, her father had not been a Nazi but a Communist, and that she had settled very well in England and considered it to be her home. It was clear that they had exhausted all their conversational opportunities and that they really should get home before dark.
As with all country-house parties, and despite the help of Muir and the two maids, it took a further half an hour for everyone to make sure they had all their possessions, get into the right cars, and say their goodbyes. Dr Robinson and his wife, like Sidney and Hildegard, were driving back to Cambridge. Amanda was catching a train to London with Shouty Meynell, Serena Stein and Henry Richmond.
Sidney noticed that Elizabeth was anxious with Amanda before she departed, saying quickly, ‘I wish you didn’t have to go.’
‘Come with me then.’
‘I can’t. You know how he is.’
‘You must stand up for yourself, Elizabeth.’
‘I do.’
‘Come to London as soon as you can. We could go shopping. You could get a few bargains in the New Year sales. Or sooner.’
‘I need a new coat.’
‘What’s wrong with the one you’ve got?’ Sir Mark approached unnoticed.
Elizabeth clasped her friend’s arm and then kissed her goodbye. ‘I’ll try.’
‘Don’t try,’ Amanda replied. ‘Just come.’
As Sidney got
(As soon as Sidney started talking about the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes he missed Anna all over again. In three weeks’ time she would be one year old. He was desperate to return home and see her.)
Amanda walked with him on the way back from church. After praising him for his sermon, she said that she was still concerned about Elizabeth. Sidney had brought their anxieties into focus. But how much should she confront a woman who kept saying that there was nothing to worry about when so clearly there was quite a lot going on, most obviously that Sir Mark was taking out his frustration on being unable to have an affair, and possibly on being blackmailed, by hitting his wife?
As they gathered for drinks before lunch, both Sidney and Hildegard spotted that Elizabeth appeared to have a new bruise on the back of her calf. It showed underneath her stockings. It was discreet, as if she had been kicked in order to make her fall down, and then, perhaps, struck again, but visible.
Dr Robinson had already noticed it and, at Sidney’s prompting, offered to take a closer look but their hostess refused. ‘Please don’t tell anyone. Especially Mark. It’s such a silly thing. I banged it on the car door. It’s my pale skin. I bruise very easily. I wouldn’t want anyone making a fuss. It happens all the time. I’m perfectly all right. I promise.’
‘Do you have any other bruises?’ Dr Robinson asked.
‘No. Not a scratch. We’re home now. I must check if everything is in order for the lunch. Mark hates it if the food is late. I’ll ask Nancy.’
‘Is that the maid your husband calls “Rita”?’ Sidney asked.
‘Yes, it’s his little joke; after Rita Hayworth. Gilda is his favourite film.’
‘Has she been with you long?’
‘A few months. Her mother is an old friend of Mark’s.’
‘Is it working out well?’
‘Mark likes her and that’s generally what matters. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .’
There was roast lamb for lunch, a good-enough claret and a treacle sponge with custard for pudding. Sidney was patronised about his sermon and Hildegard was asked once more about the war, explaining yet again that, no, her father had not been a Nazi but a Communist, and that she had settled very well in England and considered it to be her home. It was clear that they had exhausted all their conversational opportunities and that they really should get home before dark.
As with all country-house parties, and despite the help of Muir and the two maids, it took a further half an hour for everyone to make sure they had all their possessions, get into the right cars, and say their goodbyes. Dr Robinson and his wife, like Sidney and Hildegard, were driving back to Cambridge. Amanda was catching a train to London with Shouty Meynell, Serena Stein and Henry Richmond.
Sidney noticed that Elizabeth was anxious with Amanda before she departed, saying quickly, ‘I wish you didn’t have to go.’
‘Come with me then.’
‘I can’t. You know how he is.’
‘You must stand up for yourself, Elizabeth.’
‘I do.’
‘Come to London as soon as you can. We could go shopping. You could get a few bargains in the New Year sales. Or sooner.’
‘I need a new coat.’
‘What’s wrong with the one you’ve got?’ Sir Mark approached unnoticed.
Elizabeth clasped her friend’s arm and then kissed her goodbye. ‘I’ll try.’
‘Don’t try,’ Amanda replied. ‘Just come.’
As Sidney got
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