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

It’s always the bloody doctor.’
    ‘But this is not fiction, Amanda. This is real life.’
    ‘I don’t want you doing anything silly.’
    ‘There’s not much chance of that. All my energy is being taken up with looking after your wretched Labrador.’
    ‘I’m sorry if you think that Dickens is too much for you,’ Amanda snapped. ‘I meant well. I’m sure I can find another home for him if you’d like. I was just trying to do my best and give you a companion. That’s all I was trying to do.’
    ‘I’m sorry, Amanda. It’s just that sometimes . . .’
    His friend interrupted. ‘I’m worried you are so gloomy. Do you think it’s because it’s Lent? Or something else? Have you taken Dickens out for a walk today?’
    ‘Of course I have,’ Sidney replied defensively.
    He wondered how much longer this conversation would continue. He had nothing to say and much to think about. Furthermore, he was standing in the cold hall. The windows had frosted completely, and on the inside. It was probably going to snow yet again. When, oh when, Sidney wondered, would it be spring?
    Amanda was still talking. ‘Are you still there?’
    Sidney had switched off. ‘Yes, of course.’
    ‘I have to go. Henry is taking me out to dinner.’
    ‘Henry?’
    ‘I’ve told you about him.’
    ‘Have you?’
    ‘Of course I have. There’s nothing you need to worry about.’
    ‘But I do . . .’
    ‘Must dash. Don’t go to the doctor whatever you do. Love you.’
    Sidney began to remonstrate but Amanda had already put down the receiver. He listened to the relentless sound of the dialling tone. There was nothing that could have matched his mood more exactly.
     
    At last Easter came; the Maundy Thursday washing of feet, the three-hour meditation on Good Friday, the vigil on Saturday evening and then the triumphant alleluia of Easter Sunday. A wave of purple crocuses burst through the grass of the Grantchester Meadows to echo the message of Christian hope.
    Sidney was determined that his parishioners should share the joy and redemption of Easter, and took, as the symbol of his sermon, the image of the cloth left in the cave where Jesus had lain. It had been folded rather than thrown away, Sidney told his congregation, a sign, according to the custom of the time, that he would return, to the table, to the meal and to the communion between God and man.
    ‘We are Easter people,’ he told the parishioners of Grantchester. ‘This is not one day out of three hundred and sixty-five, but the mainspring of our faith. We carry the Easter message each day of our lives, lives in which the pain of the Cross and the suffering of humanity are followed by the uncomprehended magnitude of the Resurrection.’
    Sidney spoke with as much passion as he could muster but as he looked down from the pulpit he realised that he was not able to reach every parishioner. The elderly looked benevolent and grateful, but younger widows from the war carried a grief that could not be assuaged. Sidney stressed that God must be one with whom humanity’s pain and loneliness can identify, but he could tell that some of his parishioners could only look back at him and say, ‘Not this pain. Not this loneliness.’
    He wished, once more, that he could be a better priest. He hoped he could bring comfort but there were times when he just had to understand that he could not be all things to all men. Sometimes he had to accept his limitations and take a few hours away from his duties and let life take its course. At least he now had the excuse of walking his Labrador.
    This was not always an easy task. Sidney was no disciplinarian when it came to training and Dickens had to be frequently retrieved from hedges, ditches and, on one occasion, the river itself. His presence did, however, make social engagement with other dog owners more agreeable and Sidney had no choice but to leave his desk and get out into the surrounding countryside with a companion who was always loyal and never bored. No matter what Sidney did Dickens was keen to follow.
    Sidney only wished that Amanda, the provider of such an unexpected gift to his life, could share some of her caring canine’s qualities.
    On his return from an enjoyable, if rather breathless walk that Easter afternoon, Sidney was surprised to find the coroner at his front door. He was leaving some wine by the empty milk bottles.
    ‘I’m glad I’ve caught you,’ he exclaimed.
    Dickens jumped up against the coroner’s