years ago, attending a wedding in oxford, i was staying overnight in the college, in a tiny room with shower/wc in a wardrobe. the room was below street level and the only window was a sliver through which i spied feet on the street.
so having a few hours before the wedding in the college chapel, i wandered outside and sat on a bench. an elderly lady sat down and we got talking. she said her late husband used to work in my home town. i said was he a clergyman. yes she said. not mr xxxxxx / ? i said. yes she said. i'd never met them.
but my late best friend spoke of him, how he conspired with her husband and doctor to have her put away, in a lunatic asylum. that was often done before the 1959 act. she was under the master of lunacy, as she would often boast later.
anyway it took her years to get out, and eventually worked for the elderly invalids society. guess where she was sent, to a retired clergyman, who by then did not recognise her, and she had changed her name, to get away from the asylum.
she cared for him the same as anyone, and never told.
of course i did not mention any of this to his widow.
and i don't know why i suddenly guessed which clergyman.
