Lanark_ a life in 4 books - Alasdair Gray [200]
They shook hands. The clergyman looked down on Rima, who had sunk down on her heels with her arms resting wearily on her stomach. He said, “So this is your good lady.”
“Lady,” snarled Rima contemptuously.
Lanark said, “She’s tired and a bit unwell. In fact she’ll be having a baby quite soon.”
The clergyman smiled enthusiastically.
“Splendid. That’s really glorious. We must get her into hospital.”
Rima said violently, “No!”
“She doesn’t want to go into hospital,” explained Lanark.
“You must persuade her.”
“But I think she ought to do what she likes.”
The clergyman moved his feet and said, “It’s rather chilly here. Isn’t it time we put our noses above ground?”
Lanark helped Rima to her feet and they followed Ritchie-Smollet across the black ice.
It was hard to see anything of the cavern except that the ceiling was a foot or two above their heads. Ritchie-Smollet said, “What tremendous energy these Victorian chaps had. They hollowed this place out as a burial vault when the ground upstairs was filled up. A later age put it to a more pedestrian use, and it still is a remarkably handy short cut…. Please ask any questions you like.”
“Who are you?”
“A Christian. Or I try to be. I suppose you’d like to know my precise church, but I don’t think the sect is all that important, do you? Christ, Buddha, Amon-Ra and Confucius had a great deal in common. Actually I’m a Presbyterian but I work with believers of every continent and colour.”
Lanark felt too tired to speak. They had left the ice and were climbing a flagged passage under an arching roof. Ritchie-Smollet said, “Mind you, I’m opposed to human sacrifice: unless it’s voluntary, as in the case of Christ. Did you have a nice journey?”
“No.”
“Never mind. You’re still sound in wind and limb and you can be sure of a hearty welcome. You’ll be offered a seat on the committee, of course. Sludden was definite about that and so was I. My experience of institute and council affairs is rather out of date—things were less tense in my time. We were delighted when we heard you had chosen to join us.”
“I’ve chosen to join nobody. I know nothing about committee work and Sludden is no friend of mine.”
“Now, now, don’t get impatient. A wash and a clean bed will work wonders. I suspect you’re more exhausted than you think.”
The pale square of light appeared ahead and enlarged to a doorway. It opened into the foot of a metal staircase. Lanark and Rima climbed slowly and painfully in watery green light. Ritchie-Smollet came patiently behind, humming to himself. After many minutes they emerged into a narrow, dark, stone-built chamber with marble plaques on three walls and large wrought-iron gates in the fourth. These swung easily outward, and they stepped onto a gravel path beneath a huge black sky. Lanark saw he was on a hilltop among the obelisks of a familiar cemetery.
CHAPTER 35.
Cathedral
After they had gone a little way Lanark stopped and declared, “This isn’t Unthank!”
“You are mistaken. It is.”
They looked down a slope of pinnacled monuments onto a squat black cathedral. The floodlit spire held a gilt weathercock above the level of their eyes, but Lanark was more perplexed by the view beyond. He remembered a stone-built city of dark tenements and ornate public buildings, a city with a square street plan and electric tramcars. Rumours from the council corridors had made him expect much the same place, only darker and more derelict, but below a starless sky this city was coldly blazing. Slim poles as tall as the spire cast white light upon the lanes and looping bridges of another vast motorway. On each side shone glass and concrete towers over twenty floors high with lights on top to warn off aeroplanes. Yet this was Unthank, though the old streets between towers and motor-lanes had a half-erased look, and blank gables stood behind spaces cleared for carparks. After a pause Lanark said, “And Unthank is dying?”
“Dying? Oh I doubt it. The population has shrunk since they scrapped the Q39 project, but there’s been a tremendous