The Chorister at the Abbey by Lis Howell

felt destabilized. She had tried really hard to help her son acclimatize to a new home, but now Jake was being seduced by his own father.
    ‘Come on, Jakey, try this crazy ride.’
    ‘Look, Jake, more e-games!’
    ‘Want to try extreme skate-boarding, Jake?’
    The worst of it was that Suzy felt desperately sorry for Nigel. She no longer loved him, but she had loved him once and she was ashamed to admit that his bravado had been part of the attraction. But to feed it, he had needed the admiration of women. So Suzy had turned a blind eye to his affairs. It was a vicious circle and she had been a link in it, reinforcing Nigel’s image as a ladies’ man. She had assumed that even if his current girlfriend didn’t last, Nigel would find a more glamorous bet and disappear from her emotional life for good. Didn’t men always want younger, more beautiful women? But now, astonishingly, Nigel’s supply had dried up.
    Her mother had enjoyed Christmas at The Briars but had been unable to conceal her delight at seeing Suzy and Nigel together again as a family. Suzy had driven them all down to her mum’s house for New Year’s Day with Nigel beside her, advising her when to use the windscreen wipers. His dominating behaviour had infuriated her in the past, but this time she accepted it. She was beginning to think all men wanted control. Surely Robert’s sudden misguided marriage proposal was about establishing himself as head of the household? But if she was going to gratify any paterfamilias, shouldn’t it be Nigel?
    Suzy felt parcelled up, unable to talk to anyone, except when she called her longstanding London friend Rachel Cohen on the phone.
    ‘Jesus, Rachel, this is awful.’
    ‘Jesus who? Shalom to you too.’
    ‘Oh, stop joking! I feel so muddled up. Robert’s been acting like a moral force and Nigel is mooning round wanting to be a family man again.’
    ‘So you’ve got a new guy who wants to marry you and a husband already. You should be so lucky!’
    ‘You’re joking. I mean, Nigel is so pathetic that I feel really sorry for him.’
    ‘Well, it’s classic. When Nigel was behaving like a bastard it was easy to move on. But now he’s suffering, you treat him like your third child.’
    ‘But it makes me so sad. I don’t know what to do. Look I’d better go. Mum’s making cocoa for everyone and Molly will probably chuck it up, the way Nigel throws her around. Come to Tarnfield and stay with us soon.’
    ‘Will do. But who is us?’
    The thought stayed with Suzy as she crept into the narrow bed in the room she’d had as a child. As always, Rachel had put her finger on the problem. Just who was ‘us’?

11
    Thou hast shewed the people heavy things; thou hast given us a drink of deadly wine. Psalm 60:3
    On the evening of New Year’s Day, Edwin Armstrong waved goodbye to his parents. His mother was still talking at him through the driver’s window of their ancient car as she manoeuvred out of the tiny driveway in front of his cottage. The car groaned and took a rasping breath before finally moving. Thank goodness they’re off, Edwin thought. He was desperate for some time to himself.
    It had been a very odd New Year’s Day. He had been expecting the Clifford family to join him and his parents for lunch, but when they arrived Lynn had looked absolutely exhausted. Even Neil had seemed distracted. And Chloe had been pale and quiet, dressed in a long dark skirt, flat boots and a baggy jumper discarded by Lynn. He had hardly recognized her.
    They had arrived early, and after one gin and tonic his sister had followed him into the kitchen. ‘We’ve had a really weird night,’ she said to Edwin’s back as he basted the roast potatoes. ‘Chloe didn’t come home till six o’clock in the morning!’
    ‘Really? Was she having fun?’
    ‘Fun? Well, it’s hard to say. I was absolutely terrified. She hadn’t phoned although we bought her that state-of-the-art mobile, and she hadn’t said anything about