The Worsener's Tale by Robert Edeson

Author:Robert Edeson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fremantle Press
Published: 2024-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

19 INTERCESSIONAL PRAYERS

[Tuesday]

Worse arrived home at four o’clock, which allowed time for a shower and change before the special service for Canon Simony, scheduled for 5.30. Already, parked cars filled most available places in Old Forge Lane, and large groups of people were milling around outside the police barrier at St Eke’s and along to the church hall.

He had phoned ahead to tell Millie he was on his way; she was standing by the front door waiting for him, and observing the gathering congregation. Worse gestured at the crowd.

‘The Canon would be pleased to see this. He shared with me a ruefulness about declining attendance at St Eke’s.’

‘A rather extreme measure he’s taken to summon the flock, don’t you think?’ said Millie.

Worse gave her a look that made her realize the irony was in poor taste.

‘Sorry,’ she said.

‘No, no. It was amusing,’ said Worse. ‘Perhaps I didn’t show it.’

Millie was left to wonder what he meant.

−

As they entered the house, Worse received a call from the Archdeacon. She described to Worse developments in Canterbury regarding the emergency at St Eke’s. In return, Worse updated her, to an extent that would not be compromising, on his investigation’s progress. Neither referred to Wilfred’s medical status.

Then she changed the subject.

‘Chief Inspector, when you address me as Archdeacon, I feel that I should clarify to you that I am acting in the role.’

We are all acting in our roles, thought Worse.

‘I was briefed,’ he said. ‘How should I address you?’

‘As Victoria Bray. My name.’

‘People call me Worse. Victoria, I can’t stress enough how grateful I am for your involvement this morning.’

‘I’m pleased that I was called into the situation early,’ she said. ‘So, I take it you have chosen a reading for Wilfred’s service?’

Worse wondered whether the question carried any anxiety about appropriateness—perfectly understandable if she had heard reports of his and Millie’s Satroit presentation at William’s funeral. He was reassuring.

‘I have. It’s short, but in its brevity I think it teaches that whatever one’s affliction, there will be found, in one or other realm of argument—Divine for some—a compensating good that may be difficult to fathom. Difficult, but ultimately enlightening. I view it as a Lesson, and I hope that Wilfred’s family finds comfort in it.’

It was clearly not an answer, or exposition, that the Archdeacon was expecting.

‘I’m intrigued. Your reading is?’

‘The dialogue concerning Bartimaeus from Leonardo di Boccardo’s Conversaziones e Silenzio.’

‘Oh. Yes. I was once familiar with it. A perceptive choice. Complex, dense, a touch subversive, but uplifting as I recall.’

She was quiet for several seconds.

‘How do you know that work? Leonardo is not often read in the modern Church, if at all. If anywhere, for that matter.’

‘But should be,’ said Worse. ‘No one these days is properly interested in how to be thankful, for example. Or challenged. Or trustful. Or mystified. Those things, at least, are taught in the Conversaziones, putting aside the wryness that you allude to. Which I value, by the way.’

‘I agree,’ said Victoria.

Worse pushed further. ‘I’ve always thought that the subversive functions to refine our polity.

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