But Nelson knows, in his heart, that nothing is over. They may know who killed Bernadette, they may know what happened to Elizabeth Black (forensics have uncovered the bones buried in the school playground – Father Hennessey will have another funeral to conduct) but the feelings stirred up by the deaths of these little girls (Annabelle Spens too) are not so easily buried. Fathers and daughters, this is the phrase that keeps running through Nelson’s head. He will shortly be the father of three daughters. This is the thought that now keeps him awake at night, the thought that has sent him speeding down the motorway towards the retired Catholic priest.
Confession? He hasn’t said the word aloud to himself but when he greets Father Hennessey and the older man suggests a walk in the secluded part of the garden, he knows that this is what he has come for. Once a Catholic… he smiles grimly to himself. Father Damian would be proud of him.
At first they discuss the Woolmarket Street case.
‘Have you any idea why Sir Roderick Spens did this terrible thing?’ asks Father Hennessey.
‘Edward Spens found his diaries,’ says Nelson, following the priest down a path overgrown with lavender and lemon balm. ‘He kept a diary from when he was a child. It’s all there, the murder and everything. Weirdest thing you ever read. Like a cross between Adrian Mole and Jack the Ripper.’
‘He must have been a very troubled soul.’
‘Troubled? Yes.’ Nelson gives a bark of humourless laughter. ‘But he managed to go through life without anyone suspecting. I mean, Edward Spens knew his father was odd. That was why he lived with them, to keep him out of trouble. But he never suspected that he was a murderer.’
‘And yet it came to light in the end,’ murmurs Hennessey. ‘Evil can’t stay hidden for ever.’
They have reached a sunken garden, out of sight of the house. They sit on a low bench, still warm from the sun. In front of them is a fountain, a mere trickle of water descending from the mouth of a stone fish. The dappled light overhead turns the spray into a hazy rainbow, yellow, green and blue.
Father Hennessey turns to face Nelson. ‘Why did you want to see me, my son?’
Nelson takes a deep breath. ‘I wanted to ask your advice.’
Hennessey inclines his head but says nothing. The silence trick. Nelson recognises it but that doesn’t stop him from falling into the trap and singing like a bird.
‘I’m a married man, Father. I love my wife and I love our two daughters.’ He pauses. Those terrible few hours when he thought his daughters were in danger have impressed on him just how much he does love them. He would do anything for them, even (at Michelle’s insistence) invite Laura’s boyfriend for Sunday lunch.
‘I love my wife,’ he repeats, ‘but a few months ago I… slept with someone else. I’m not making excuses, I knew it was wrong, but it was at a very difficult time… for me and for the other woman. We just came together, didn’t think about the consequences. But now she’s pregnant. She’s expecting my baby, a girl. And I don’t know what to do.’
Nelson stares at the fountain, the water falling endlessly into the stone bowl. Father Hennessey’s voice is calm.
‘You say you love your wife. Do you love this other woman?’
Nelson is silent for a moment and then he says, ‘I don’t know. I care about her. I care about her and the baby. I want to look after her.’ He laughs, rather harshly. ‘My wife does too. That’s the weirdest thing. She knows this woman and wants to help her. With the baby and everything. My wife wants to befriend the woman who’s having my baby. You couldn’t make it up.’
‘Love is always a force for good,’ says Hennessey gently. ‘Your love for your wife and daughters, for this woman and her unborn baby. Even your wife’s kindness towards her. These are all good things.’
Nelson turns towards him, his eyes are wet. ‘How can it be good? If my wife finds out, our marriage will be over.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘You think I should tell her then?’
‘I can’t give you advice,’ says Hennessey, ‘although I know that’s what you want. I can only tell you that a baby is always a blessing, love is always a blessing. You care about these people, you will find a way.’
Nelson nods. He stares ahead, watching the light play on the water. He hardly notices when Father Hennessey puts his hand gently on his head and murmurs a blessing before walking away, back to the house.
Evening and Max’s party is in full swing. The lonely hill, where once the Roman occupiers had huddled together against the cold Norfolk wind, is now full of people. Someone has set up speakers by one of the trenches and Leah’s uncle has brought barrels of beer and cider from the pub. Irish Ted and Trace are dancing amongst the mounds of soil and stones. Ruth sees Clough, wearing a Manchester United shirt, cut in and dance with Trace, showing surprisingly good hip action. If Clough has come, why isn’t Nelson here?