Time's Legacy (8 page)

Another creak from the stalls made him swing round, straining his eyes into the shadows. ‘Hello? Is there anyone there?’ He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. ‘Come on out.’ Even in full sunlight this was a dark church but he could see there was no-one there. Nowhere to hide.

‘Come on! Time to go. I’m about to lock up.’

The silence was almost tangible.

Behind him a light flickered. He swung round to face the altar and gasped. There were two candlesticks on it now, two candles, lit, a lace cloth, a cross. His mouth dry with terror he stared for a long moment, not daring to breathe. Raising his hand at last he reached out and at once the candles vanished. ‘Our Father who art in Heaven,’ he whispered. This was Abi’s doing. She hadn’t wanted them to touch this place. He backed away towards the door. ‘Hallowed be thy name.’ It was her. She had brought evil here with her. That was why she didn’t want him to touch her. That was why she had panicked when he had reached out for her.

There was only one word for what was happening here. Witchcraft.

David Paxman looked at Abi quizzically. ‘I gather you almost knocked out one of his teeth, Abi. That must have been some punch!’

‘He’s spoken to you?’ She clenched her fists again, trying to speak calmly. ‘Did he tell you that he hit me?’

The bishop nodded wearily. ‘He more or less corroborates your story, although he does feel you were out to seduce him from the start. He is also worried as to what exactly you were doing in the church that necessitated the lighting of so many candles.’

‘Candles?’ She felt the colour drain from her face.

‘Candles.’ The bishop sat back and picked up his cup. He was watching her carefully.

‘They weren’t real candles.’ She met his eye defiantly. ‘The church was full of ghosts. There was a choir and a parson and the pews were full and someone was singing the most beautiful solo hymn.’ Uneasily she began to pleat the folds of her skirt between her fingers. ‘And then Kieran arrived and, just like that,’ she clicked her fingers, ‘they disappeared. The church was dark when he came in. Dark and cold and empty.’

‘There was a mention of witchcraft.’ The bishop grinned broadly.

‘Oh, please!’ Abi stood up. ‘I don’t believe it. I suppose that’s because I rejected his advances.’

‘Actually he assumes it helped you lure him against his better judgement.’

‘The vindictive bastard! Does he want me burned at the stake!’

‘Not good Christian sentiments, Abi, but yes, something along those lines.’

‘Well, I’m resigning, remember? So he can take his box of matches somewhere else.’ She sat down again, furiously. ‘He is right about one thing. I was wrong to take holy orders. I accept that now. I have no vocation!’ She stopped abruptly. She hadn’t planned to say that. ‘It’s not just that I am seeing ghosts,’ she went on doggedly, deciding she might as well make a clean breast of things. ‘I’ve been practising the ministry of healing. He doesn’t like that at all, either.’ She paused, then went on. ‘He was so afraid. I don’t know if he was more afraid of the ghosts or of me or of himself. All three, perhaps.’ She shrugged. ‘After I saw him, after I left the church, I don’t know what happened. Perhaps I was in shock, but I was seeing everything differently suddenly.’ She hesitated. ‘The ghosts, everything, have always been there, but I couldn’t quite see them before. I’ve sensed them. I knew there was so much going on that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Then suddenly it was as though someone flicked a switch and all the lights came on in my head.’

The bishop said nothing. He waited, his eyes on her face.

‘Everything was glowing. People, houses, trees. It was like looking through some kind of prism; shimmering colours. Everywhere. And people in the streets. People who weren’t there.’ Her voice had dropped to a whisper. It had been incredible, somehow how she imagined it must be the first time or two one got high on drugs. Beyond anything she had ever experienced. She realised the bishop was still watching her closely.

‘People?’ he prompted at last.

‘People in old-fashioned clothes. Ghosts. Like in the church.’ To her embarrassment her eyes suddenly filled with tears. ‘I could feel their pain. Their loneliness. Their fear.’

For a moment there was complete silence in the room. Outside in the hall, a phone rang and almost immediately stopped. ‘What’s happened to me?’ She looked up at him pleadingly.

‘I think in modern parlance, Abi, that you are probably suffering from stress,’ he said at last. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘We have been overworking you, that much is clear, and the man who should have been your guide and mentor has betrayed your trust. And mine!’ He paused a little grimly. There was another moment of silence. ‘Can you see those prisms and lights now?’

She shook her head.

‘Any ghosts?’ He was very serious.

She shook her head again.

‘Good.’

‘I spent yesterday praying,’ she went on after a moment. ‘When you couldn’t see me at once, I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I went for a long walk in the country. Up towards Wandlebury Hill. I should have been helping them clear out St Hugh’s but I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Kier again. Up there, I made the lights go away. I wouldn’t let them happen. They wanted to. They wanted to show me the past. It’s an ancient site up there, but I somehow controlled them. Out there in the fields they seemed all wrong. Unchristian. Pagan. So, you see why I can’t go on being a priest. Perhaps he has identified my problem. Perhaps I am a witch! You’ll have to accept my resignation. My parents hated me being ordained. My father because he’s an atheist, but my mother, well, you know what she thinks.’ She shrugged. ‘Whatever the reason, they were right.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Your mother told me she lost her faith, Abi, but never why.’ He shrugged. ‘But you are wrong in thinking she didn’t want you to be ordained. She told me it was your choice and she only wanted what was best for you.’ He looked at her pensively. ‘I think, Abi, the best thing would be for you to take a leave of absence for a few weeks while we all calm down and think things over.’

‘You needn’t expect me to think anything over when it comes to Kieran,’ she retorted hotly.

‘And I won’t. But there are other matters to consider.’ The bishop took a deep breath. ‘You are too valuable a member of the team, Abi, to lose you. And so is he. He too has offered to resign. He behaved unforgivably and has infringed every rule in the book regarding his relationship to you. He has put himself as well as you in a very vulnerable position. He will be coming to see me later this evening and in the meantime I think we should all take some time out to pray.’ He paused.

‘I don’t want him to lose his job,’ she said with unexpected meekness. ‘Perhaps he’s right and I did attract him in some way – without realising it. I didn’t mean to. He misunderstood.’

‘Abi, he should have been able to control himself. Put him out of your mind, my dear. I shall deal with him. Now, we must think about you.’

‘You haven’t said. Do you think I’m mad?’

‘Why should I think that?’

‘Seeing ghosts.’

‘I don’t think you’re mad.’ He stood up and held out his hands to her. Automatically she stood up too and after a second’s hesitation put her own into his. ‘I’m going to send you away for a while, Abi. Think of it as a retreat. A chance to pray, to think things over in a safe environment, far away from here. Somewhere you can think about your options and talk them over. Will you do that? Let me make some phone calls and I will contact you.’ ‘And in the meantime I don’t have to meet Kieran?’ ‘No, you don’t have to meet Kieran.’ He smiled. ‘Bless you, my dear. It will all come out all right, I promise you.’

4

The Reverend Ben Cavendish pulled out a chair and sat himself down at the kitchen table in Woodley Manor, looking first at his sister-in-law and then at his brother. There was a strong family likeness, the two men tall, with rugged outdoor complexions and greying pepper and salt hair, Ben some five years older than his brother. ‘I know it is a great favour to ask, especially of you, Cal, but I think she could be useful to you both,’ he said gently. It was no secret in the family that some catastrophic investments by his advisers had reduced Mat’s pension to almost nothing. ‘The diocese will pay and as she might be here a while it will work out far more than your average occasional B & B guest who only stays one night. And if she stayed here, rather than with me and Janet, she could do a bit in the garden, maybe help you sort out what you want to do with the designs if you go ahead with this plan to open to the public. Her mother is Laura Rutherford.’

His brother, Mat, looked blank. It was Cal who reacted.
‘The
Laura Rutherford? The garden designer?’ Petite, with hair a similar colour to that of her husband, if slightly more artfully arranged, and with faded blue eyes, Cal leaned forward, her elbows on the table. Her weather-beaten face was eager.

Ben nodded.

‘But the daughter is a vicar, not a garden designer, Ben! It doesn’t mean she knows anything about gardening!’ Mat protested.

Ben shrugged. ‘She must have watched her mother at some point, surely. And even if she didn’t, it must be in her genes there somewhere, mustn’t it?’ He gave a disingenuous smile. ‘David wants her to have a complete break. She’s had some kind of awful experience with the man she works with. Her first job, she hasn’t even had her own parish yet, and the so and so jumped on her. She wants to resign but the bishop says she’ll make a good pastor; he doesn’t want to lose her so he has decided to send her down to us here to revisit her roots in Somerset. We’ve got to soothe her and reassure her and I’m to be her spiritual adviser. But David is anxious I shouldn’t ram the whole pastoral experience down her throat at the moment, so I thought it might be better to suggest she stay here, based away from the Rectory.’

Cal smiled. ‘Reading between the lines, she’s obviously a looker and Janet has said, “not in my house thank you very much otherwise she might set her cap at my husband too”!’

Ben grinned. ‘Something like that maybe, yes. You know my wife. But to be fair, David did say she looked as though she needed feeding up. That is your department, Cal, as you cook like an angel.’

Cal chose to ignore the compliment. ‘I hope that doesn’t mean she’s anorexic as well as sexy.’

Mat threw back his head and laughed. ‘I doubt it. If I remember right, David Paxman likes his women curvy.’ He clapped his hand to his mouth in mock horror. ‘Sorry, I didn’t say that. It’s unfair to remember a bishop when he was a boy and the terror of the whole neighbourhood.’

‘You’re right, though,’ Ben put in soberly. ‘It does tend to get between one and all the mystique we’re supposed to feel! That’s why I could never be in his diocese. Quite apart from that, though, you clearly haven’t put two and two together! Laura Rutherford was none other than little Lally Purvis from up near Priddy. So we all knew each other in the old days.’ He grinned. ‘Abi is practically family. And we are far enough away from her tormentor here on the other side of the country for her to feel safe.’

Mat sighed. ‘So how can we refuse. When will she arrive?’ He glanced at his wife. ‘We will have her, right?’

She nodded. ‘Of course we’ll have her. There is always room for another pair of hands, and if she tries to seduce my husband, she’s welcome to him!’ She punched him on the shoulder.

‘Good, because she’ll be here within the week,’ Ben said.

In the event it was to be much longer. The next day, Ben took a call from the bishop. When it was over he put down the phone and stared blankly at his wife. ‘I can’t believe it. Laura Rutherford is dead.’

Janet came over and sat down next to him. ‘She can’t be. She is a relatively young woman!’

Ben glanced at his wife and sighed. Her reaction was typical. He was sure she didn’t mean it that way, but as usual her response to unexpected bad news was to be indignant at a perceived inconvenience rather than instantly sympathetic. He frowned. She was looking particularly elegant today. She was on her way to a coffee morning in Wells and had been to the hairdresser only the day before. It was obviously a ‘smart casual’ affair of the kind his wife spent hours dolling up for, to end up looking so far from casual that it hurt. Well, poor Laura was not going to be an inconvenience to her and neither by the look of things now, was her daughter.

‘Laura had a congenital heart defect, apparently.’ He shook his head. ‘David said she had only found out a few months ago that there was something wrong. They thought she would be OK with the right medication, but…’ He shrugged. ‘Poor Abi. She knew nothing about her mother’s condition. It’s been the most awful shock. On top of all her other problems.’

The room still smelled the same. Of paint and flowers. Abi sat down on the chaise-longue and lifted a corner of the Spanish shawl, holding it up to her face. The house felt so empty. Downstairs, her father was sitting in his study, staring at the wall. It had been the same every day since the funeral, the horrible, godless funeral he had insisted on at the City Crematorium.

She had offered to stay on for a while and taken his shrug to signal acquiescence. She sighed. She didn’t know how to comfort him. She couldn’t talk to him about the certainties that shored up her own faith; she couldn’t even mention them. She wanted to hug him; even more she wanted him to hug her. When she was a child they had been so close. Her mother’s warmth and affection had enveloped them both, filled the whole house. That had made it so much harder when God had entered the frame. Her father’s fury, his uncomprehending indignation, his assumption that she had rejected him and everything he stood for out of some perverse need to pursue a personal vendetta, bewildered her. Even now he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. When she had made coffee and toast for them both this morning he had taken a cup and a plate without a word and carried them to his study, closing the door behind him.

Abi walked over to the window and pushed it open, resting her elbows on the sill.

‘Give him time, darling.’ Her mother’s voice seemed to come from the room behind her! Abi swung round. ‘Mummy?’