The Two Confessions by John Whitbourn (good books to read for adults .TXT) 📕

Samuelwanted to cross over to the priest and smash his face in – then tear theman to bits like they had his sign. It would have been so lovely. However,there was a papal dragoon dancing in attendance. Foresight had been shown,putting the delicious indulgence out of the question. The foreigner would be notoy soldier, and all too keen to do his duty.

Thedragoon looked bored, staring lazily down from his horse. To him it was just amild holiday from routine, a trip out from the grim Westminster Citadel. ToSamuel Trevan he was nemesis.

Samuelwalked on and neither priest nor soldier knew he'd passed.

Whitechapelnatives and peddlers out from the Ghetto alike made way for him, but stillreceived the evil eye. Nothing and no one could do right. Even the smile on thebronze Pepys, 'England's Neptune', outside Trinity House, hithertohumane, today mocked the fallen Trevan. The world scowled and he replied inkind.

Howhad it come to this? He'd been fairly sprinting up the mountain; neverdreaming you could overshoot the summit and plummet down the other side. Thatwas the only way Samuel could describe it to himself. He'd thought himself acomet, an adornment to the sky, getting brighter and brighter till the timecame to move on to a new life out in the dark. However, it turned out he wasjust a firework, a momentary flash of glory and then nothing. No - worse thannothing: a piece of rubbish falling back to earth where it belonged.

Hecouldn't work out what Providence was playing at. Up to now he'd trusted- as he'd been told to - and never doubted. For all that life dealt him a roughfirst hand he hadn't whinged or borne a grudge. He'd got on with things andthis was the thanks he got. Well, it wouldn’t do. It wasn't plain dealing!

Brickby brick, Samuel had built himself a cathedral of achievement. It had looked assolid as the stone sort which graced London. He'd assumed it would be there forfuture generations to look at. And yet, and yet... just one or two surprisevisitors and it all came tumbling down. Because they didn't like his buildingmethods. Never mind the grandeur of the sight, the pains taken or exaltedvision: no, they just didn't care for the masons' hours. Yeah, right…. Had StPaul's or St Guy's - or St Peter's Basilica - been raised to strict Trade Guildrules? The hypocrites!

Samuelbrooded on the power of unexpected visitors all the way back to his lodgings.There he found another one - the last and worst - waiting for him. The oneillusion he had left to be ripped away was that fate wouldn't demand abjectsurrender. He'd blithely assumed that at least his cathedral's foundationswould be left intact.

Wrongagain.

************

FatherOmar had let himself in. He'd always had a facility with locks and bolts, sothere was no mystery to it.

‘Yourforgiveness, Samuel-of-the-disgrace, I did not relish waiting on the landing.’

Samuelthrew his topcoat on the bed. The place was in disorder, the result of severalabandoned bouts of packing.

‘Don'tmention,’ he said. ‘My home's been liberty hall to lots of churchmen lately.’He grimaced, hating it when his brimful pail of bitterness slopped over tosplash the undeserving. ‘Anyway, it's good to see you....’

Thehorsehair seat, fine for normal frames, was far too close a fit for the priest.He shifted round seeking elusive comfort. Perhaps it was that that put edge onhis bass tones.

‘Ishall not let you linger in that opinion, child. Matthew 10, 34: 'I came notto send peace, but a sword.’ A sword thrust cannot be made palatable withplatitudes or prevarication.’

‘‘Ettu, Brute’?’ said Samuel.

Omarsmiled, displaying brown peg teeth. Along with the Church he belonged to, he'dalways venerated the Saint from Stratford who had done so much to re-convertEngland. It was news however that any line from that sublime pen had lodged inthis pupil.

‘No,not I, Samuel-of-the-telling-quote. 'Et tu, Farncombe', you shouldrather say. Here.’ Omar retrieved and held out an ominously thin letter. ‘Thereis no honey that may be poured on it. Take and read.’

Samuelbalanced the missive on three spread fingertips, killing it with a look.

‘Noneed,’ he said. ‘I can guess.’ He flicked it into an inaccessible corner.

FatherOmar watched it go: a welcome pause in distasteful duties.

‘Neitherdoes Lewes wish you back,’ he said eventually. ‘Mine was the sole dissentingvoice on the Town panel. Exile is your lot and the Town Governor, who is apious man - so he repeatedly assured us - thirsts to enforce the ban againstyou. Should I say at this juncture that I am sorry?’

Samuelcrossed to the bed, evicted his coat, and lay down, hands behind his head.

‘Ifyou like; yes please.’

Omarobliged. ‘Then know that I am a vessel of regrets; for my failures and foryours - and for their mean spirits.’

Samuelsignalled he’d heard.

‘So,where am I to go then? Is Beachy Head what they're hinting at?’

‘Perhaps- but that is not my sentiment. I have come this weary and unpleasantdistance precisely to command the contrary.’

Samuelexpelled a sigh through his teeth.

‘Well,I’ve been getting a fair number of commands just lately, Father - as you mayknow. Arguably, a sickening amount….’

Omarnodded.

‘Ihave been in London a full day before I came to you, Samuel-of-despair. Notbeing entirely deprived of what are called 'contacts', I have spent my timeexploring the extent of sanctions against you. Accordingly, my commands - my council,if that probes your wounds less roughly - are well informed. When we first met,I could - and did - hold you in the crook of one arm. That is no longerpossible, but my wishes remain equally protective.’

Trevanwearily turned his head.

‘Proofagainst the hardening of the heart are you? Wish you'd tell me your secret.’

Ina trice, Omar's voice was all harshness and reproof.

‘Inever ceased to expound it in every lesson and conversation, my boy. It is youwho have chosen to forget: just as you chose to spend my life savings on...rifles.’

Thatstruck home, though Samuel strived not to show it. He was glad the priest'schair wasn't in direct line of sight.

‘Butyou didn't forbid it either. So why not now tell me plain: how was what I didso bad?’

Omarhad always been a patient teacher; patient to a fault. Remaining so was now avisible trial.

‘Youwere