Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno 3)

Katherine’s sharp gaze missed very little, and she certainly didn’t miss seeing Julia start at the mention of Professor Martin’s name.

“Jeremy was an ally to both of you last year. He tried very hard to help Gabriel, but in the end, there was only so much he could do.”

Julia shifted in her seat. “I always wondered why he helped Christa transfer to his alma mater. There were rumors they were involved.”

“Rumors hurt people. Sometimes, they hurt innocent people. I expect better from you, Mrs. Emerson, than to be listening to gossip about Professor Martin.”

Julia grew flustered.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, of course.”

“I’ve known Jeremy and his wife for years. Believe me, Christa Peterson couldn’t catch his eye if she were naked, holding the original manuscript of The Decameron and a case of beer.”

Julia stifled a laugh at Professor Picton’s imaginative description, such as it was.

“Two days after I explained my situation, Jeremy approached Gabriel. In short order, he volunteered to take over my seminar and any other responsibilities while I was away.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Katherine tipped her head to one side. “But it shouldn’t surprise you. Gabriel likes to do his good deeds in secret, I think, but that he does them is unremarkable. When he volunteered to help he was a first-year assistant professor, just out of graduate school. It was an extraordinary kindness on his part for someone he knew only in passing. As it happened, I was away until after Christmas, burdening him with everything for four long months. And then afterward, when I came home, he was a very good friend to me. So as you can appreciate, I owe him a debt.”

“I’m sure he was happy to help, Professor. After everything you’ve done for us, the debt is more than forgotten.”

Katherine paused, peering at their surroundings thoughtfully. “Gabriel tells me you’re an admirer of the Inklings.”

“I am. Did you know them?”

“I met Tolkien once, when I was a little girl. My father was a Beowulf specialist at Leeds and he and Tolkien used to correspond with one another. I came down on the train with my father to visit him.”

“What was he like?”

Katherine sat back in her chair and regarded the ceiling.

“I liked him. At the time, I simply thought of him as old, like my father. But I can recall that he coaxed me into telling him a story I’d made up about a family of badgers that lived behind our house. He seemed quite taken by it.” She gestured to the corner in which they sat. “This was the exact spot where the Inklings used to meet.”

Julia slowly examined the space. As a child, hiding in her room with a stack of Narnia books, she would never have imagined that one day she would be sitting where Lewis sat. It was nothing short of a miracle.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” Her voice almost caught in her throat.

“My pleasure.”

Katherine’s expression shifted.

“It took me almost an entire semester to see Old Hut. When I arrived in Oxford, his wife banned me from the hospice. I showed up every day for weeks, hoping to change her mind, hoping that he wouldn’t pass away before I could see him.”

“Who would be so cruel?”

“You ask this question after the Shoah? After countless instances of genocide? Human beings can be incredibly cruel.

“In the case of Old Hut, I was the cruel one and I paid for it. But that semester, it was Mrs. Hutton’s opportunity to exact her revenge, with interest.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Professor Picton waved her hand. “Gabriel gave me the chance to make my peace. I will always be in his debt, which means I feel a special responsibility for you.”

“Were you able to see your friend?”

“Mrs. Hutton’s aunt fell ill. While she was visiting her, I managed to see the professor. By then, he was near death, but we were able to talk.

“I came back to Toronto and worked through my depression. But I never told Gabriel the entire story, or why it was so important for me to see John before he died.” Katherine pursed her lips, looking as if she were divided about something. Then she shrugged.

“All the important players are dead, with the exception of me. There’s no point in keeping it a secret.” She looked at Julia over her glass. “I don’t expect you to keep things from your husband, but I ask that you be discreet.”

“Of course, Professor.”

Katherine wrapped her aged fingers around her pint.

“Old Hut and I were involved while I was his student, and afterward, when I taught at Cambridge. He was married. Lucky for me, no one found out about us while I was living here in Oxford. But eventually, there were rumors, and the rumors followed me for ten years.”

Julia’s mouth dropped open.

Katherine glanced at her, her blue eyes sparkling in what could have been amusement.

“I see you’re surprised. But I wasn’t always this old. In my day, I was considered attractive. And is it really so surprising? People work closely together on something they’re passionate about, and that passion has to go somewhere. Dante speaks of it when he describes Paolo and Francesca.”

Katherine replaced her glasses on her face.

“When I was trying to get an academic position, the gossip became particularly vicious. There were those among my student colleagues who were jealous of Old Hut’s attentions and the fact that he clearly preferred me. Even without evidence of our amour, they began circulating stories that he authored my research. In fact, someone wrote to the University of Cambridge after I’d applied for a job there, claiming that Old Hut wrote a letter of recommendation for me simply because I was sleeping with him.”

Julia laughed.

Then she clapped a hand to her mouth.

“I’m so sorry. That isn’t funny.”

Katherine’s eyes twinkled.

“Of course it’s funny. You should have seen his recommendation letter. He wrote, Miss Picton is competent in the study of Dante. I was his lover, for God’s sake. Don’t you think he could have troubled himself to write more than one sentence?”

While Julia stared in horror, Professor Picton chuckled.

“I can make light of it now, but I was unhappy for many years. I fell in love with a married man and I mourned not having him all to myself. No marriage, no children. Once I began presenting my research, the rumors died. People heard my lectures, some of which disagreed with Old Hut’s positions, and they realized I knew what I was talking about. I worked very hard to make a name for myself and to come out from under his shadow. That’s why when he was dying, the only other person who knew what had transpired between me and Old Hut was his wife.”