Page 178 of The Armor of Light
Elsie shot a look at Kenelm. He went pale with shock. She felt a wave of compassion. This had meant so much to him.
Tattersall said to Kenelm: ‘I think you knew Reddingcote at Oxford. He was a teacher there at the time.’
Elsie had heard of Reddingcote, a conservative intellectual who had written a commentary on Luke’s gospel.
Kenelm found his voice. ‘But why not me?’
‘The archbishop is well aware of your abilities, and feels you have a great future ahead. With a few more years’ experience you may be ready to take on a diocese. Right now you’re too young.’
‘Plenty of men my age have become bishops!’
‘Not plenty. A few, yes, and they have generally been the second or third sons of wealthy noblemen, I’m sorry to say.’
‘But—’
‘Moving on,’ Tattersall said firmly, ‘the dean of Kingsbridge is soon to retire, and the archbishop is promoting you, Mr Mackintosh, to be dean.’
Kenelm was not mollified. It was a desirable promotion, but he yearned for more. However, he managed to say: ‘Thank you.’
Tattersall stood up. ‘Reddingcote is eager to come here immediately,’ he said. ‘You should take over the deanery as soon as the present dean moves out.’
Elsie felt that her life was changing too fast. She wanted to pause it and take stock.
Tattersall looked at his watch. ‘I’ll address the chapter in fifteen minutes. I assume you’ll join me there, Mr Mackintosh.’
Kenelm looked as if he wanted to sayGo to hell, but after a pause he nodded obediently. ‘I’ll be there.’
Tattersall went out.
Elsie said chirpily: ‘Well, so we’re moving into the deanery! It’s a very nice house – smaller than this palace, of course, but probably more comfortable. And it’s in Main Street.’
Kenelm said bitterly: ‘Nine years of fetching and carrying for the bishop and all I get is a deanery.’
‘It’s a quick promotion by the standards of ordinary clergymen.’
‘I’m not an ordinary clergyman.’
He had expected special treatment because he was the son-in-law of a bishop, Elsie knew. But the bishop was dead and Kenelm had no other influential connections. Sadly she said: ‘You thought you’d get special treatment by marrying me.’
‘Hah!’ he said. ‘That was a mistake, wasn’t it?’
It was a slap in the face, and Elsie was silenced.
Kenelm left the room.
Arabella said: ‘Oh, dear, that was unkind – but I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He’s upset.’
‘I’m sure he did mean it,’ said Elsie. ‘He needs someone to blame for his disappointment.’
‘Well, he didn’t get his wish, but you got yours. You have Stevie, Billy and Richie. And I have Abe. We’ll move into the deanery and have a house full of children. Life could be worse!’
Elsie got up and hugged her mother. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘Life could be a lot worse.’
27
HORNBEAM’S DAUGHTER, DEBORAH, had a magazine beside her plate. She was jotting numbers on a scrap of paper, using a pencil, concentrating hard while her tea went cold. On the page were geometric drawings, triangles and circles with tangents. Hornbeam was intrigued. ‘What are you doing?’
‘It’s a maths puzzle,’ she said, without looking up. She was completely absorbed.
