Glittering Images by Susan Howatch Page A

indeed most sincerely sorry that the debate went so wrong.’
    ‘It’s all right. My hypocrisy got what it deserved. Sorry I took such a cheap way out.’ The conversation was now so far removed from any dialogue I could have foreseen that I was unable to sustain it. Moving to the hearth, the glass of port in my hand, I pretended to examine the carvings on the chimneypiece.
    ‘Now that,’ said Jardine, ‘is a very remarkable apology. You’re beginning to interest me exceedingly, Dr Ashworth.’ Although I had my back to him, I heard the splash as he refilled his glass. ‘First of all I was tempted to write you off as just another of Lang’s bright young men,’ he was saying, ‘but the truth’s more complicated than that, isn’t it? You no longer find the required mask of sycophancy easy to wear.’
    I finished my port before saying, ‘I’m very much in Dr Lang’s debt.’
    ‘Of course you are. Men of power have a knack of building up extensive credit, but if one is in a position of power,’ said Jardine, moving over to me with the decanter in his hand, ‘one must always be scrupulously careful not to bankrupt one’s debtors by demanding inappropriate methods of repayment. More port?’
    ‘Thank you.’ I held out my glass with a steady hand.
    ‘May I give you a word of advice? Your first duty, debts or no debts, is not to the Archbishop of Canterbury. Your first duty is to God who created you as a unique individual in his own image, not as a miraculous facsimile of Dr Lang. Be yourself, Dr Ashworth. Be the man God intended you to be, not the sycophant His Grace’s vanity would prefer. And now,’ said Jardine, having refilled my glass, ‘I shall stop preaching and we shall divert ourselves very briefly, before we join the ladies, by ruminating on an issue which to me is of far greater interest than dear old St Anselm’s meditations. I refer to the search for the historical Jesus – do you think we can ever see beyond the shining image of the Gospels to the man he really was?’
    ‘I think it can be unproductive to probe behind glittering images,’ I said, ‘and with all due respect I believe your generation has been too preoccupied with Christ’s humanity at the expense of his divinity.’
    Jardine smiled. ‘You think that in pursuing the concept of the immanence of God in mankind we’ve wound up losing sight of God and following mankind, as represented by Christ, down a historical blind alley?’
    ‘Exactly. Speaking for myself, I’m much more interested in the modern doctrines asserting God’s transcendence and the importance of revelation – I think we should focus on the message Christ presented, not on the shadowy figure behind the glittering image,’ I said firmly, and escaping with profound relief into the world of scholarship, I began to talk of the writings of Karl Barth and the challenge of Crisis Theology.

VI
    On our return to the drawing-room Jardine announced: ‘I’m glad to say that Dr Ashworth and I have quite resolved our differences so there’s no need for anyone to remain embarrassed by our debate … Lady Starmouth, come outside and take a turn with me on the terrace.’
    ‘Coffee, Dr Ashworth?’ called Miss Christie.
    ‘Yes – thank you.’ I was just moving towards her with alacrity when I was intercepted by a distraught Mrs Jardine.
    ‘Dr Ashworth, I’m so very sorry – my husband was terribly upset afterwards, I know he was – it was when you mentioned the baby –’ As she broke off I saw to my horror that her eyes were full of tears.
    ‘My dear Mrs Jardine – please – don’t distress yourself –’
    But Miss Christie had come to the rescue. ‘It’s all right, darling,’ she said to Mrs Jardine, and I was struck by her use of an endearment. ‘Dr Ashworth understands. Come and sit down – Mrs Jennings and I were just discussing the choirboys’ concert.’ And passing me my cup of coffee she steered Mrs Jardine to the cluster of chairs where Mrs