The Crimson Petal and the White by Michel Faber

Author:Michel Faber
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2010-02-23T05:00:00+00:00

NINETEEN

‘Wake up,’ hisses a stern voice. ‘Remember where you are.’ Sugar rouses with a start, having nodded off in her seat. Blinking in the multi-coloured sunlight beaming through the stained-glass windows, she sits up straight, smooths her dowdy skirts and adjusts her horrid shawl. The ancient wife next to her, her pious duty done, turns her dim eyes once more to the pulpit, where the faraway rector is still busy casting his oratory across the sea of pews.

Sugar glances at the other occupants of the free seats here in the back of the church, worried that they, too, noticed her falling asleep, but they appear oblivious. There’s an imbecile boy, growing increasingly cross-eyed in his attempts to scratch his nose with his bottom teeth. Next to him, nearest the escape route to the sunny outdoors, sits a shovel-faced mother with two babes cradled one in each arm, which she jigs slowly and gently to ensure their slumber is uninterrupted.

In truth, much of the congregation is asleep, some with heads slung back and mouths open, others with chins sunk into their stiff, upturned collars, others leaning on the shoulders of relations. Sleep is almost irresistible, what with the hot weather, the tinted sunlight, and the rector’s droning voice: a conspiracy of soporifics.

Surreptitiously, Sugar rubs her stiff neck and reminds herself what a fine idea it is to be here. William is away again (just for the day, this time, to Yarmouth), so what better way to spend her Sunday morning than to accompany the Rackham household to church?

Not that there are many Rackhams in evidence. Their contingent has been sadly depleted since the honeymoon days of William’s marriage, when William and Agnes would turn up along with Rackham Senior and all the servants, and clucking ladies of the congregation would hint to the mystified Agnes that she’d soon be bringing a lively family with her.

Yarmouth or no Yarmouth, William rarely attends anymore. Why should he listen to a windbag in a pulpit ranting about intangibles? In the world of Business, nothing is discussed that can’t be made real and viable: would that Religion could boast the same! So, usually it’s Agnes who attends in his stead, along with whatever servants can be spared. But Agnes isn’t here this morning, only her sour-faced maid. (Clara’s wide awake, not by virtue of greater piety but because she’s seething with resentment at the way Letty, who’s trusted to attend the evening service on her own, is in effect given Sundays off. She’s likewise envious of Cheesman, who’s free to wander around outside the church, smoking cigarettes and reading tombstones. And why doesn’t someone poke a parasol into that stupid scullery girl, Janey, to stop her snoring!)

Sugar fidgets in the ‘poor pew’ of the church, many rows behind a small, barely visible child who may or may not be the daughter of William Rackham. Whoever she is, she moves not a muscle throughout the service, and is almost wholly hidden inside a stiff brown coat and oversized hat.

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