Page 194 of The Armor of Light

‘I don’t wish to be mean.’

She stepped closer. ‘Look at my lips,’ she said. He did so: he could not help it. ‘In one minute’s time we could be kissing,’ she went on. ‘And you could kiss me all over. Anywhere. Everywhere.’

As he stood there, taut with conflict, he began to understand why he did not simply walk into the house and do everything he longed for. She wanted to have him on a string that she could pull every time she needed him. The thought was humiliating.

He said: ‘You’re offering me half of you – less than half. Am I tohave my heart’s desire when Northwood goes away, and be starved of love the rest of the time? I can’t live like that.’

‘Isn’t half a loaf better than no bread?’ she said, quoting a proverb.

He responded with a quote from the Book of Deuteronomy. ‘Man doth not live by bread only.’

‘Oh, pooh,’ she said. ‘You make me sick.’ And she slammed the door.

He turned away slowly. The cathedral loomed darkly over the empty market square. Although he was a Methodist he still regarded the cathedral as the house of God, and now he walked to its front and sat on the steps, thinking.

He felt strangely liberated. He had stepped away from something that made him ashamed. And he began to see Jane in a different light. Her remark about her brothers came back to him. She thought they were dull for choosing to be pastors. Her values were all wrong.

She used people. She had never loved Northwood, but she had wanted what he could provide. And she had wanted to make use of Amos, exploiting his passion whenever she needed to be loved. It was obvious, but it had taken him a long time to see her plainly and accept the truth bravely. And now that he had done that, he was not even sure that he loved her. Was that possible?

He still felt a tug at his heartstrings when he pictured her. Perhaps he always would. But his blind obsession might be over. At any rate, he felt optimistic about the future now.

He stood up, turned around, and looked at the cathedral, dimly lit by the street lamps on the far side of the square. ‘My mind is clear now,’ he said aloud. ‘Thank you.’

*

Hornbeam had a vision for Kingsbridge. He saw it becoming a powerhouse of manufacturing, a place where great fortunes were made, rivalling Manchester for the title of England’s second city. Butsome of the people of Kingsbridge stood in the way, constantly thinking of objections to progress. The worst of them was Spade. Which was why Hornbeam was furious at suggestions that Spade should be made an alderman.

It was no surprise that the proposal had originated with a woman – Cissy Bagshaw.

He was determined to kill this idea.

Fortunately, Spade had a weakness: Arabella Latimer.

Hornbeam spent some time mulling over the best way to use that weakness against Spade, and finally decided to speak to the new bishop, Marcus Reddingcote.

For church the next Sunday he put on a new coat, plain black, the look that was becoming the mark of a serious man of business. After the service he greeted the bishop and his supercilious wife, Una. ‘You’ve been with us for half a year, Mrs Reddingcote,’ he said. ‘I do hope you’re enjoying Kingsbridge?’

She did not say yes. ‘We were at a London church before – Mayfair, you know. Quite different. But one serves where one is sent, of course.’

So Kingsbridge was a step down, socially, Hornbeam inferred. He forced a smile and said: ‘If there is anything I can do to assist you, you only have to ask.’

‘Most kind. We’re very well served at the palace.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Hornbeam turned to the bishop, a tall man and quite stout, as wealthy clergymen often were. ‘May I speak to you briefly, my lord bishop?’

‘Of course.’

Hornbeam glanced at Mrs Reddingcote and said: ‘On a matter of some delicacy.’

She took the hint and moved away.

Hornbeam stepped closer and spoke quietly. ‘There is a clothier called David Shoveller – you may have heard people refer to someone called Spade, it’s a humorous nickname.’

‘Ah, yes, I see, Shoveller, Spade. Most amusing.’

‘He is manoeuvring to become an alderman.’

‘Do you approve?’ The bishop looked around, as if he might spot Spade.