The House At Sea’s End

‘That was an interesting experience,’ Tatjana is saying to Cathbad.

‘It’s important,’ says Cathbad, ‘to introduce the baby to the household guardians.’

Tatjana stacks glasses neatly in the sink.

‘So, Cathbad,’ she says, ‘how long have you been a devil worshipper?’

CHAPTER 15

The next morning Nelson drives to work in a sombre frame of mind. Last night felt like one of those weirdly scientific Japanese tortures designed to discover how much one person could stand in a short space of time. He prides himself on his self control but there are easier things in life than watching your wife hold your illegitimate baby. And what was Cathbad playing at around the fire? Nelson is sure that when he said the words, ‘we ask the gods to watch over you and over your father and mother’, Cathbad looked straight at him. Does Cathbad know that Nelson is Kate’s father? Before she was born Cathbad overheard something which may have given him a clue and Nelson has no doubt at all that he has remembered, word for word. Cathbad is also well in with all the university lot – maybe Ruth has confided in Shona or even that slimy Phil. Christ, probably everyone at UNN knows by now – Nelson’s hands are wet on the steering wheel. If so, it’s only a matter of time before Michelle finds out.

Michelle likes Ruth. She wants to help her. ‘She doesn’t know the first thing about looking after a baby’ she told a decidedly twitchy Nelson on her return from a visit to Ruth and the new-born Kate. ‘I caught her reading today.’ ‘Reading? ’ echoed Nelson, rather wildly. ‘Yes, she was feeding Kate and reading some old archaeology book.’ ‘What’s wrong with that?’ Michelle had laughed. ‘When you have a baby you don’t have time for reading. Not if you’re doing it properly.’ Was Ruth doing it properly? She doesn’t quite look comfortable with a baby, the way Michelle does. Ruth still holds Kate slightly warily, as if she might explode, but she seems to do all the right things and, sometimes, she looks at Kate with an expression that makes Nelson’s heart ache. And she talks to the baby all the time, even if she does address the five-month-old like one of her postgraduates. ‘We’re going outside now, Kate. You might find it a bit cold at first but that’s just the contrast with inside…’

No, to Nelson’s anxious eye, Ruth seems to be doing just fine. He’d worried about her going back to work but the childminder seems competent (unknown to Ruth, Nelson has run a third check on Sandra) and he knows that, as he’s hardly in a position to help her openly, Ruth needs the money. He has offered to give her some money every month (he’d tell Michelle it was a retirement scheme or something) but Ruth refused. ‘I want to do this on my own,’ she said. A statement which, though courageous and admirable in many ways, nevertheless fills Nelson with dread.

When it comes down to it, does he have any rights at all where Kate is concerned? None at all, says a lawyer whom he has secretly consulted. ‘If your name isn’t on the birth certificate, you’re no-one.’ Nelson has never seen Kate’s birth certificate but he’s betting it’s ‘father unknown’. Ruth could do anything – emigrate, join a commune, refuse to send Kate to school – and he couldn’t do a thing about it. Jesus, she’s already had a pagan christening service. His mother would turn in her grave (the shock of Kate’s parentage would have killed her). When Cathbad put the oil on Kate’s forehead Nelson had surprised himself by how strongly he wanted Cathbad, anyone, to trace the sign of the cross there. I baptise you in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Once a Catholic, as they say. And Kate Scarlet! Why had Ruth done that? Even today, when he thinks of the name Scarlet, he feels as if his heart will break.

By the time he reaches the station he is sunk in gloom and the sight of Whitcliffe waiting for him in his office does nothing to cheer him up. He knows that Whitcliffe won’t have dropped in for a cosy chat about his promotion prospects.

Whitcliffe is holding a piece of paper. When he sees Nelson he strides forward and thrusts the paper into his face.

‘What is the meaning of this?’

Nelson has never known his boss so angry. Normally Whitcliffe keeps his distance and speaks in a light monotone. Now he is eyeball to eyeball with Nelson, his face red, his voice, in which the Norfolk accent has suddenly come to the fore, choked with fury. In an odd way, for the first time, Nelson almost likes the man. But he knows he must be careful, very careful.

‘What do you mean, sir?’ He throws in the ‘sir’ to appease Whitcliffe.

‘Mean? I mean this!’ Whitcliffe waves the paper again. Nelson backs away slightly.

‘What is it?’ Though he knows very well.

‘How dare you… how dare you ask for an autopsy on my grandfather.’

‘I had good reasons, sir,’ says Nelson stolidly.