A Terrible Kindness(85)

William’s throat locks. He can’t breathe. Now! ‘Amplius lava me ab iniquitate mea.’ Sky diving without a parachute. The chapel fills with the otherworldly, almost inhuman sound. Pure. Perfect. Top B.

Wash me thoroughly from my wickedness.

The clerk swoops down on Evelyn like a raven and holds her elbow. He’s taking her away. She looks over her shoulder at him she leaves.

Here it comes. ‘Et a peccato meo munda me.’

Top C.

And cleanse me from my sin.

Drop down to the B. Rock-steady as the tenors weave and curl around it.

Howard has a red stripe on his cheek. His mother has been removed from the chapel. His uncle’s eyes are tiny silver saucers.

He can’t stand this. He can’t look any more. Yet now, the simple act of switching his gaze back to Phillip is like a jump from one planet to another. But he must stop this torture, return to the safe place of his choirmaster’s face. And it’s only then, when he sees that Phillip’s concentration is not on him at all, but on his friend beside him, that it hits him. With an icy tingle running from head to toe, William realises he hasn’t sung a single note. It was Martin all along.

There are four solos left. He won’t waste a second more on his despicable mother. He’s back and he’s ready and it’s all he has left. William breathes, straightens, focuses entirely on Phillip. With two bars to go, he follows each note on the score, his eyes switching from music to Phillip. Music, Phillip. Nothing. Else. Phillip. Music.

But Phillip doesn’t lean towards him. Doesn’t even look at him. As if William has ceased to exist, it’s Martin Phillip invites. And the next time, and the time after that, and the time after that, even though William’s concentration doesn’t waver for a second.

Once it’s over, all twelve minutes of it, Phillip finally looks at him. And in that moment, William feels not just the disgrace of his choirmaster’s disappointment, but everyone’s; the other choristers, his family and every member of the bloated congregation.

Abruptly, it’s intolerable for him to remain a second longer. He’s not even aware of making a decision. His body takes over, scrambling out of the choir stalls, treading on feet as he goes, running down the aisle. As he passes Uncle Robert and Howard, his foot lands and slips on a thick green tulip stem. His arms wheel back for a second, but he manages not to fall and runs on, breath loud and coarse, feet slapping the tiles.

In the vestibule, he sees his mother, still held at the elbow by the clerk. He keeps running, out into the flat light of cool spring, through the quad, past the Porters’ Lodge, onto the street.

Eventually he squats and leans against the low wall, gripping his head.

‘William!’

It’s her, running towards him. And not far behind are Uncle Robert and Howard. He stands, knees shaking. And now, here they all are, together on the pavement.

‘Happy now?’ Evelyn’s eyes narrow at Robert. She tries to take William’s hand but he pulls it away. ‘I told you it would put too much pressure on him.’

‘You asked us to come, Evelyn!’ Howard snaps, his cheek still red.

‘I asked you not to come.’ Her jaw’s so tight it’s a wonder she can speak.

William sees Howard’s desperate glance at Uncle Robert, then at him. In that second of connection, William sees that his uncle realises who wrote the letter.

‘You hit Howard.’ William turns on his mother. ‘You hit him.’

For a moment she looks appalled. ‘He attacked me – with those bloody flowers!’

William sees the bewilderment on Howard’s face. ‘She’s always hated the flowers, Howard, she used to throw them away.’ He’s punishing her. ‘Didn’t you, Mum?’

‘I just wanted you to leave the three of us alone!’ Now she’s crying. ‘All I wanted was to be a normal family, not bloody Lavery and Sons! I didn’t want flowers – I wanted my family!’ With a clenched cry of frustration she pushes Robert in the chest. ‘Why couldn’t you have died instead of him!’

‘Evelyn!’ Howards shouts. ‘For God’s sake.’

A calm comes over William. He turns slightly away from Robert and Howard so he’s facing his mother. He’s never felt so angry and so powerful.

‘If someone had to die,’ he says softly, ‘I wish it had been you.’

Evelyn stops crying and stares at him.

‘William,’ Robert says, his voice low, ‘enough.’

‘You ruined today and I’ll never forgive you.’ He carries on as if his uncle hadn’t spoken. He glances at the chapel over his mother’s shoulder. A gust of wind moves his hair. ‘Take me home.’

The air around them bristles with the shock of what’s happened, with what’s just been said. Evelyn stands looking at him, blinking. After what seems a long time, she inhales suddenly. ‘You can’t just leave.’

‘I already have.’

‘But I’m going back to Swansea tonight. I’ve got an interview tomorrow. I’ve got to sort out a house, school for September. As soon as term’s over, I’ll come and get you.’

William sees the shock on Robert’s face. He knows nothing of Evelyn’s plans.

‘You’ve only got a few months left,’ she says, ‘it’ll be fine.’