‘That meeting went extremely badly. It was like talking to a stranger. Will was totally unlike himself. He met everything we said with what I now know to be standard UHC talking points and jargon, and he refused point-blank to leave the church or resume his studies. I lost my temper, which was a big mistake, because it played right into the church’s hands and enabled them to paint me as his enemy. I should’ve done what Sally was doing: simply pour out love and show we weren’t trying to control or mislead him, which of course is what the church Principals were saying about us.
‘If I’d let Sally handle things, we might have had a chance of getting him out, but I was angry – angry he was throwing away his university career, and angry he’d caused so much fuss and worry when we still didn’t know whether Ed was going to be wheelchair-bound for the rest of his life.’
‘What year was this?’ Strike asked.
‘2012,’ said Sir Colin.
‘So he’s been in there nearly four years?’
‘Correct.’
‘And you’ve only seen him once since he joined?’
‘Once face to face, and otherwise only in photographs taken by Patterson Inc. Ed’s seen him, though.’
‘We didn’t talk,’ said Ed. ‘I tried to approach him last year in Wardour Street and he just turned tail and ran back into the Rupert Court Temple. I’ve walked the area a few times since and I’ve spotted him from a distance, out with his collecting tin. He looks ill. Emaciated. He’s the tallest of all of us and he must be several stone underweight.’
‘Apparently they’re chronically underfed at Chapman Farm,’ said Sir Colin. ‘They do a lot of fasts. I found out a lot about the inner workings of the church through a young ex-member called Kevin Pirbright. Kevin grew up in the church. He was there from the age of three.’
‘Yeah,’ said James, who for the last few minutes had given the impression of a man struggling to keep a guard on his tongue. ‘
There was a moment of charged silence.
‘Sorry,’ said James, though he didn’t look it, but then, evidently unable to hold the words back, he said forcefully,
‘Look, Will might have been too much of an idiot not to realise setting fire to a school chapel won’t solve world poverty, but come on.
‘Will doesn’t think like that,’ said Ed.
‘No, because he’s a self-centred, monomaniacal little shit,’ said James hotly. ‘He knows perfectly well what he’s doing and he’s had plenty of opportunities to stop doing it. Don’t go thinking he’s some innocent halfwit,’ he threw at Strike and Robin. ‘Will can be bloody patronising to anyone who isn’t as clever as he is and you should hear him in an argument.’
‘James,’ said Ed quietly, but his brother ignored him.
‘My mother died on New Year’s Day. One of her last conscious acts was to write a letter to Will,
‘I thought that was going to happen,’ muttered Ed.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Sir Colin to Strike and Robin. His eyes had become wet.
‘Don’t worry about us,’ said Strike. ‘We’ve seen far worse.’
Sir Colin cleared his throat again and said, with a slight tremor in his voice,
‘Sally’s
Ed struggled up to move into the seat beside his father. As he moved around the table, Strike saw he still had a pronounced limp.
‘C’mon, Dad,’ he said, placing a hand on Sir Colin’s shoulder. ‘’S’all right.’
‘We don’t usually behave like this in public,’ Sir Colin told Strike and Robin, striving for a smile as he mopped his eyes. ‘It’s just that Sally… it’s all still very… very recent…’
With what Robin felt was deplorable timing, an attendant now arrived beside their table to offer lunch.
‘Yes, very good idea,’ said Sir Colin huskily. ‘Let’s eat.’
By the time menus had been provided and food ordered, Sir Colin had regained his composure. Once the waiter was out of earshot he said,
