Prayer by Philip Kerr

gave me. I think there’s more to it than I thought.”
    “It sounded to me as if you and he were discussing your own crisis of faith, honey.”
    I shook my head. “No, it wasn’t anything like that. I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”
    “I smelled the cigarette.”
    “That’s why I was smoking it out of the window.”
    “It still comes in the house when you breathe out.”
    “All right, in future I’ll try not to do too much of that.” I shrugged. “What’s the matter?”
    “I guess I’m a little puzzled that you can talk about things with Bishop Coogan that you don’t seem able to discuss with me.”
    “I already told you,” I said, stifling a yawn, “that’s not what he and I were talking about.”
    She unfolded her arms and took my hand in her own.
    “I was thinking, Gil, maybe we could . . .”
    She hesitated long enough for me to get the wrong idea. I put my arms around her and tried to kiss her.
    “I didn’t mean that,” she said. “I thought maybe we could pray. Now. Together.”
    I sighed and put a better face on my disappointment. “I really don’t think that’s going to help right now, sweetheart.”
    “It’s okay for Bishop Coogan to pray for you, but not me. Is that it?”
    “Look, you can pray for me all you want, honey. And so can he. His was a professional courtesy, I imagine. But I don’t want to pray with anyone. Not anymore. Not ever. I just can’t, Ruth. I don’t have the words. God isn’t there for me. Perhaps he never was.”

    They say God moves in a mysterious way, but I have to admit I was more than a little surprised by what happened over breakfast.
    Danny was watching television before Ruth drove him to school. I had a slice of toast in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, and Ruth was fixing my tie for me, and perhaps it didn’t help that the tie was one she knew I had acquired during my temporary duty assignment in Washington, D.C. If she suspected that Nancy Graham had bought it for me, from Michael Andrews Bespoke—which she had—then she certainly didn’t say so. But this time she did a lot more than merely straighten my tie. The green eyes I knew better than mine flicked up and down between the knot of the tie and my face, and each time I met them they seemed a little sadder than before; then she swallowed a lump in her throat the size of an egg and a tear appeared on one eyelash. In the same moment a terrible fear went through me and, recognizing all at once that something was very wrong, I started to cover her forehead with kisses and to apologize for the previous evening.
    “I’m so sorry about last night, babe,” I said. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was unforgivable.”
    “Yes, it was,” she said, and tightened the silk knot of my tie just a little too much. “I could strangle you because of what you said last night, Gil Martins. And I hate having that feeling about my husband. I don’t recognize myself in your eyes. We used to be such good friends, you and I. But now all I feel is your overriding hostility.”
    “Come on, Ruth, it’s not you I feel hostile toward,” I said. “You know I love you. I’ve always loved you. Even when I made that mistake in Washington, I still loved you.”
    “Do you see what you’ve done, Martins? You and this precious job of yours? Do you see where you’ve brought me? Where you’ve brought us?”
    “Let’s not talk about my job again, Ruth.”
    “And I am not going to talk about it. I give you my word on that. I’ll never talk about your job again. Not now, not ever.”
    As she let go of my tie, I put down the toast and the coffee, cupped her hands in mine, and lifted them to kiss the tips of her fingers.
    “Forget what I said last night. Look, if you want to pray, let’s pray. All right? I’m ready. We’ll kneel down and pray and ask for God’s help, just like you wanted.”
    I knelt down and tried to make her kneel with me, but Ruth stayed up on her feet and turned away.