Sidney Chambers and The Shadow of Death (The Grantchester Mysteries)

tell each other anything, I hope.’
    ‘That is true.’
    ‘It doesn’t matter whether it’s God, crime or my new fur coat, does it?’
    ‘Of course it doesn’t, Amanda. Sometimes I wished we could talk about the trivial a little more. By the way, where did you get that coat? Did Eddie Harcourt give it to you?’
    ‘He did not.’
    ‘Then . . .’
    ‘I turned him down, by the way.’
    ‘Good. I’m pleased.’
    ‘Daddy’s not, although he’s already lined up someone else.’
    ‘Hence the fur coat.’
    ‘Indeed. But there’s no need for you to worry about any of that. As soon as I meet anyone serious you will have power of veto and I can’t imagine you approving of any of them.’
    ‘There’s bound to be someone in the end.’
    ‘Probably; but we don’t have to think about that now, do we? Is there any beer?’
    ‘I think there’s a whole barrel from The Green Man,’ Sidney replied, wondering how limitless Amanda’s supply of suitors might be.
    ‘Do you imagine they’ll give me a whole pint?’ she asked. ‘It’s not very ladylike.’
    ‘I’ll get one for you. They’ll probably give it to you on the house. You’re becoming rather well known round here.’
    ‘Well, I do hope people are talking. I like to create a bit of interest.’
    The first of the fireworks exploded in the sky. The two friends took their pints out of the pavilion to watch the night rainbows of crimson, silver and gold.
    ‘What a sight!’ Amanda cried. ‘And what a sound! There’s enough noise to cover all manner of murders, I would have thought.’
    Sidney smiled. ‘Don’t.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘You are beginning to sound like me.’
    She put her arm through his and the warm light of the bonfire lit up her face. ‘Is that a good thing or a bad thing?’
    ‘A very bad thing, I would have thought,’ Sidney replied. ‘Especially if you want to keep up with your friends.’
    Amanda gave his arm a tug of reassurance. ‘You remember when I came to lunch last winter? It was when we thought the doctor might be polishing people off . . .’
    ‘It was the first time we were alone together.’
    ‘You said something to me then that I have never forgotten. Can you remember what it was?’
    Sidney thought for a moment. Children raced in front of them, waving sparklers, shouting with delight. A Catherine wheel fizzed chaotically on the side of an oak tree. Rockets exploded in the sky.
    ‘You were advising me about marriage. You said that love was “an unassailable friendship”. Now, we’re not married, of course, but do you think we’ve got that now? With each other?’
    ‘Unassailable friendship?’
    Amanda gave a little tug at his arm. ‘What do you think?’
    ‘I certainly hope so.’
    ‘So do I,’ said Amanda, kissing him lightly on the cheek.
     
    The following Thursday Sidney was sitting with Geordie Keating in their accustomed positions at The Eagle. Their first pints of bitter were half-empty and a game of backgammon was well under way. The Inspector was convinced that he was on the cusp of victory while Sidney was mulling over the implications of the recent crime.
    ‘So complicated, the whole business of reputation, isn’t it?’ he mused. ‘So intangible, and so hard to know if you are maintaining it well.’
    ‘Isn’t it just a matter of keeping a clear conscience?’ the inspector asked.
    ‘I’m not sure that it is. I think it is worth thinking about the way in which other people see you. A man’s reputation can be more fragile than he thinks.’
    ‘You just have to be true to yourself, don’t you?’ the inspector asked. He threw a three and a one. ‘That’s what I try to do, even though sometimes, inevitably, the black dog comes; and I don’t mean your Labrador.’
    ‘Everyone has his moments of depression, Geordie . . .’
    The inspector looked down at the board. ‘It’s your turn.’
    ‘I am sorry.’ Sidney threw his dice. ‘Oh good. A double six.’
    Keating continued. ‘And then, when it does come, I sometimes think that everything I do – whether it is in the Force, at home, for the wife, for the children, or out in the streets – anything and everything – is a waste of time. Nothing I do, in the grand scheme of things, can ever make much of a difference.’
    ‘I can assure you, Geordie, that everything makes a difference. The world would be a poorer place without you.’
    Keating threw a two and a four. ‘I don’t know, Sidney. You solve one crime and