Sidney Chambers and The Forgiveness of Sins by James Runcie Read Free Book Online Page A

lift his daughter out of her cot.
    She was still so tiny, half awake and half asleep. She cradled into his shoulder. He gave her a little milk and walked the hall downstairs talking to her, as he spoke to Byron, about all his cares and worries. He asked her if she was looking forward to her christening (they still hadn’t arranged it and were thinking about Easter Day) and whether she thought all the stars had come out in the sky or were there more still to come?
    He told his daughter how he imagined that one of the stars was looking down on her. It was her star. Could she tell which one it was? Anna’s heavy eyelids closed once more, and he kept talking, as gently as he could, as he laid her down to sleep. When he turned to leave the room he saw that Hildegard had been watching from the doorway. She was wearing a nightdress that Sidney did not think he had seen before.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re very good at that when you want to be.’
     
    Josef Madara had been taken back into custody and a psychiatric visit was arranged for the Monday. Angela Jones was convinced that Sophie Madara was still in Britain but had been unable to provide any clues as to her whereabouts. In London, Inspector Williams had charged Dmitri Zhirkov with the murder of his wife.
    Sidney had to concentrate on his duties and it wasn’t until the middle of the week that he could catch up with Keating. If he really thought that Dmitri Zhirkov had been framed in some way then he had no time to prove it, and little hope, as the weapon, the motive and the evidence all pointed to the man’s guilt.
    It was also possible that Dmitri was involved in the staged scene of Sophie Madara’s death (if this had indeed occurred) and that he was working with either her or her husband, who could have been feigning his insanity.
    The only relatively innocent party in the whole quartet, as far as Sidney could see, was Natasha Zhirkov, and she was dead; just as she had feared she might be.
    It was one big mess and he was not sure that he was in a position to do anything about it. Was it even his responsibility any more? Madara had turned up in his church, it was true, but now ‘the experts’ had taken over there was little he could do. He had failed to protect Natasha Zhirkov, they had not yet found Josef’s wife, and the man himself was still in an advanced state of psychiatric delusion. If anything, his visit to the church in Grantchester, and the subsequent investigation, had only made matters worse. What would have happened if Sidney had simply sent him on his way after a cup of tea and a sandwich as many of his colleagues might have done? Could the situation have been any poorer?
    He tried to concentrate on his parish tasks once more: Easter preparation, confirmation classes and the requirement to lead a Lenten meditation on sin and suffering. These were the absolute bare minimum, let alone his need to visit the sick and interview potential candidates to run the village school.
    Malcolm was unconcerned by such travails (what freedom Sidney would have if he were simply a curate again!) and was installing another section of railway track in his room. Hildegard joked that there were probably train delays owing to cake crumbs on the line. As they sat on the sofa, she asked her husband how his thoughts were progressing.
    ‘Not that well. In musical terms it’s more Stockhausen than Bach.’
    ‘It’s the end of the quartet, I imagine. They can hardly go on after this, even if they find a new member.’
    ‘It’s surprising that they survived so long,’ said Sidney. ‘Perhaps it’s not a good idea for married couples to work together . . .’
    ‘We might see more of each other if we did . . .’
    ‘I think couples need external stimulation, otherwise love becomes insular and claustrophobic. You have to keep bringing things back from the outside world.’
    ‘Is that why you keep going away? You think it refreshes our