Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [553]
“But . . . my wife and children,” he burst out.
“Ah,” Porteus cried. “So you have remembered them.” He turned to Forest. “I shall of course see they are provided for.”
“That will be all, gentlemen,” Forest said. It was an order to depart.
It was Thaddeus Barnikel who managed to discover exactly what had taken place. It was far worse even than he had feared.
“Porteus had already warned several of the boys’ parents; and the bishop,” he told Ralph. “Even without Forest, there would have been demands to remove you that could not have been resisted. He’s done his work thoroughly.”
“And if I go to apologise to him. If I retract?” Ralph asked miserably.
“Too late, I fear. His mind is . . .” he pressed his hands together to demonstrate: “closed like a vice.” He grimaced. “I must tell you that at present, no one in Sarum will employ you.”
It was late that morning that Forest sent for him again. The interview took place in the same room as before.
“I understand Canon Porteus has turned Sarum against you. I had not realised myself how far he intended to go,” Lord Forest confessed.
Ralph nodded sadly.
“It will blow over,” Forest told him. “You must be patient. In the meantime, I think you must consider a post outside Sarum.”
“It seems I must consider anything.”
“Very well. My grandchildren need a tutor and I think you will do. You will be paid the same that you had here, but your wife had best remain at Salisbury.”
It was a good offer. As good as he could hope for at present.
“Are you not afraid I shall make them into revolutionaries?” Ralph asked wryly.
Forest allowed himself a thin smile.
“There is little danger of that.”
“I accept. But I must make it clear that I wish to return to Sarum as soon as possible.”
“That is understood.” Forest looked at him thoughtfully. “In the current political climate, Mr Shockley, you must not deceive yourself. It will take some time.”
Ralph hung his head.
“I fear, Lord Forest, I have been very foolish,” he said frankly.
The parting of Ralph Shockley and his wife was a sad business.
Before him he saw a woman who had not shared his quarrel. But worse than that, he knew she had been right, and now by his foolishness he had wronged her. The sense of guilt made him irritable.
And Agnes saw an immature boy. Could it be, if he was prepared to bring such misery down on her and the children for the sake of a moment’s pride, that he really loved her? It felt to her like a rejection.
“He is, in effect, deliberately leaving me,” she thought. He could not appreciate her very much. “I can only wait then,” she considered, “for him to grow a little wiser, even if he does not really love me.” If he was unstable she must be firm. Aloud she said:
“We shall await you here in Sarum. I hope your return will be soon.”
“You will visit me though.”
She shook her head.
“No. We shall wait for you.”
He saw her intention: to take a superior moral position.
“You may wait a long time,” he snapped.
“I hope not.” Now she looked down. His tone hurt her and, for a moment, she thought she would cry. But she knew she must not. A tearful parting, a moment of weakness shared with him, and he would shift all the blame for his troubles on to Porteus.
So now she was strong and looked at him evenly.
“We shall wait here,” she repeated.
Then she turned and left.
Ralph did not speak to Porteus again, but he did go to see his sister Frances.
“I could not stop him,” she explained sadly. “I tried to argue with him for a whole night.”
He looked at her with a heavy heart. For a moment he thought he could see the light in his sister’s eyes that he had known before her marriage. Then it was gone.
“Pray, my dear brother,” she continued earnestly, “whatever your opinions in the future, for all our sakes let them remain unspoken.