The Quickening Maze - Adam Foulds [22]
‘Then it won’t take you a moment.’
Eliza returned with a tray of tea things just as her husband launched himself into the room.
‘Oswald, I had no idea.’
‘I didn’t give you any idea,’ his brother smiled. ‘And I’m delighted to see you too.’
Matthew blended a smile and a frown to indicate fondly that the implication was foolish. ‘I’m pleased to see you, too, of course.Your journey was comfortable?’
‘Perfectly agreeable, at least so far as these things are. And I rounded it off with a pleasant walk from Woodford.’
‘You walked up? Carrying your bag? You could have hired a cab, you know. Mr Mason is known around the station to take people.’
‘Oh, no. Thrift, Horatio, thrift.’
Horatio? That meant Hamlet. Oswald was reminding Matthew of the cultured company he kept in York, that not only in London was there literary conversation to be had.Typical of him to arrive stealthily like this, unannounced, and full of messages about himself, all his little flags flying.
Matthew Allen, flustered, forgot the tongs and picked up a lump of sugar with his fingertips, dropping it with a small splash into his tea. ‘It’s a surprising time for you to visit,’ he said, ‘by which I mean for an apothecary. Are you not now besieged by the winter ailments?’
‘Fortunately, yes,’ Oswald laughed. ‘But I have left the shop in good hands. I have an apprentice and two others at the moment.’ More impressive news about himself. ‘I keep my hours at the shop to a minimum now that I’m able, and so have more time for my benevolent activities and so forth.’
‘Oh, very good.’ Matthew gulped his tea.
‘You could have been joined with me in that, had you not chosen another course.’ Oswald smiled. ‘But we needn’t go into that.’
Matthew smiled.‘Ah, but I did choose another course.’ He would not be drawn again into this conversation. Indeed he saw an opportunity for a moment’s triumph and couldn’t resist, relishing the plural he was able to deploy.‘I shall give you a tour of the buildings, my alternative course, later before we install you in a room.’
Dr Allen savoured his time at the lectern during evening prayers as a period when he was unopposed, central and secure. He chose to read his brother’s expression - downcast eyes, thoughtfully lengthened lips - as simple absorption even though he knew he would not approve. Oswald’s face instead insisted on his own distinct piety. He did not hesitate to begin his criticism after the service was concluded. With patients still ambling out and George Laidlaw having offered again his heartfelt thanks, at which Oswald smiled, apparently bemused, he began: ‘It’s a long way from anything our father would recognise, Matthew.’
‘It is indeed. As I suppose we are, or I am.’
‘Hm.’ Oswald nodded. ‘Father would not have approved such Latitudinarianism.’
‘Of course. But you see, needs must. I’m preaching for a very mixed congregation, and not only denominationally, if it comes to that.’
‘He would maintain that there are differences between sects and that he’d brought us up in the true dogma. I mean to say, the point is simple. How can the truth be graspable by churches that we know to be in error?’
‘Oswald, even if I wanted to I could not make this institution Sandemanian. For one thing, our little church would require a great deal of explanation to those whose intellectual faculties are in many cases already strained to breaking point. And the need for the congregation’s unity of mind - it’s hardly a practicable aim with a congregation of the insane and the idiot.’
‘And indeed you yourself rarely managed it.’
‘Indeed.’ Matthew Allen looked down at his brother, some years older, some inches shorter, and still trying to rule in their father’s place. ‘I was excluded often enough. So there, you see,’ he attempted to laugh. ‘I was not a good enough Sandemanian to be worthy to attempt to create a community here.’
Oswald did not laugh. ‘You were always too soft in