‘So I decided to wear the cropped trousers in the end. With the yellow sweater I got in Tesco, only it doesn’t look like something you’d buy from Tesco, it looks sort of classy, really. I can’t remember the last time I bought new clothes. It’s a good sign, isn’t it, wanting to buy new clothes, to look nice again?’
Silence.
‘Isn’t it?’ Gillian repeated.
Evi nodded. Was she still smiling? Just about. ‘It’s a very good sign,’ she agreed.
It was an extremely good sign, wanting to look nice again. A long, floaty skirt almost to her ankles, a tight red top that would have shown off her shoulders, and a lavender pashmina in case the evening became chilly; that’s what she’d been planning to wear.
‘And how did you cope with the party afterwards?’ she asked. ‘There would have been alcohol, I’m guessing. Were you tempted?’
Gillian thought for a moment, then shook her head. ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘There was so much going on. A lot of people wanted to talk to me, ask me how I was getting on. Jenny was sweet. Jenny Pickup, I mean – used to be Jenny Renshaw. I used to nanny for her years ago and then she was Hayley’s godmother. And Harry was around a lot. Course, I didn’t take too much notice of him at the party. You know how people talk.’
‘Was it a late night?’ Evi had imagined a late night, being driven home in that open-topped car. The night had been warm when she’d gone out into the garden just before eleven. There had been stars.
‘It all finished not long after we found Millie,’ Gillian said. ‘The Fletcher family went home and then the rest of us went back to the Renshaws’, but the band had stopped and people were starting to clear up. Odd really, because in the old days the parties could go on well into the night.’
‘Did you go home?’
Gillian shook her head. ‘No, I went with Harry.’
Evi reached out and lifted her glass. She put it to her lips, then licked the moisture off them. The glass went back down.
‘With Harry?’ she said. ‘Harry the vicar?’
‘I know, I know.’ Gillian was almost chuckling. ‘I’m still not used to the vicar bit myself. But when he took that stupid dress thing off he didn’t look like a vicar at all. He was standing outside when I left and I just had a feeling he’d been waiting for me.’
‘Did he say that?’
‘Well, he wouldn’t, would he? I think he might be a bit shy. So I asked him if he wanted to come back to the flat for a coffee.’
Evi’s hand was on the glass again. ‘What did he say?’
‘Well, I was sure he was going to say yes but then some people came round the corner, so he said he had to make sure the church was locked up and he walked off up the hill. Course, I knew he wanted me to follow him so I waited a few minutes and then I went up too.’
‘Gillian…’
‘What?’
‘Well, it’s just… vicars have a certain code of conduct.’
Blank look on Gillian’s face.
‘A certain way they have to behave,’ Evi tried again, ‘and inviting a young woman he hardly knows up to a church at night… well, it doesn’t feel too responsible to me. Are you sure that’s what he wanted?’
Gillian shrugged. ‘Men are men,’ she said. ‘He might wear a dog collar but he’s still got a prick in his pants.’
Evi picked up the glass again. It was empty.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Evi, when she trusted her voice again. ‘You probably think I’m prying. If you don’t feel ready to talk about this, that’s fine. Are you still sleeping well?’
‘You think a vicar wouldn’t be interested in someone like me?’ Gillian asked. The lines on her face seemed to have hardened. The lipstick she’d chosen looked too dark for her.
‘No, that’s not what I meant at all.’
‘So why did he kiss me?’
Evi took a deep breath. ‘Gillian, my only concern is whether you’re ready to get involved again. Emotionally, you’ve been very badly damaged.’
He’d kissed her?
The girl had shrunk into her chair again. She didn’t seem able to look at Evi any more.
‘Do you really like him?’ Evi asked softly.
Gillian nodded without looking up. ‘It sounds stupid,’ she said, speaking to the rug at her feet, ‘because I hardly know him, but it’s like I care about him. When I went in the church he was just sitting in the front pew. I went and sat down next to him and put my hand on his. He didn’t pull his away. He said he was sorry about what had happened, that it must have been dreadful for me, after what I’d been through.’
‘Sounds like it was pretty grim for everyone,’ said Evi. Ten minutes before the end of the session. A tiny amount of time in the greater scheme of things. And yet too long to carry a picture in her head of Harry and this girl, in a dimly lit church, holding hands.
‘It was like we had such a connection,’ Gillian was saying. ‘I felt I could say anything. So I asked him what I’d wanted to the first time I met him. How could God let bad things happen to innocent people, like Hayley? And almost to Millie. If He’s all powerful, the way people say, why do these things happen?’
And me, thought Evi. What part of the great plan made me a cripple? What part of the plan whisked Harry away from me just when… less than ten minutes to go.
‘What did he say?’ she asked.
‘He started quoting this prayer at me. He does that a lot, I’ve noticed. Incredible memory. Something about Jesus not having any hands or feet…’
‘No hands but ours,’ said Evi, after a moment.
‘That’s it. Do you know it?’
‘I was brought up a Catholic,’ said Evi. ‘That prayer was written by St Teresa in the sixteenth century. “Christ has no body now on earth but ours, no hands but ours, no feet but ours.” It means that everything that happens here on earth – all the good things, all the bad things too – are down to us.’
‘Yes, that’s what Harry said,’ replied Gillian. ‘He said it’s up to us now. He said God had a great plan, he was sure of it, but that it was a plan in outline and that it was up to us to fill in the details.’
‘He sounds quite wise, this Harry of yours,’ said Evi. So ridiculous. She’d only met him twice. There was no reason, really, for her stomach to feel like lead.
‘I think so,’ said Gillian. ‘I’m going to church on Sunday. First time in years.’
Gillian turned suddenly and looked at the clock on the wall. ‘I have to go,’ she announced. ‘I said I’d meet him at noon. I’m helping decorate the church. Thank you, Evi, I’ll see you next week.’
Gillian got up and left the room. There were still eight minutes of her appointment left to run but it seemed she didn’t need Evi any more. And why would she? She had Harry.
27
‘T HE ASSISTANT REFEREE RAISES THEBOARD AND THERE ’ S only three minutes of injury time to play in this crucial top-of-the-table clash. The ball goes to Brown… he turns, passes to young Ewood debutante Fletcher… Fletcher, still Fletcher… a little look up… Green’s in space… I think Fletcher’s going all the way… GOAL!’
Giving the supporters a modest wave, Tom jogged back to the centre of the pitch for the final kick-off. Less than a minute of injury time to go and victory, as they say, was in the bag. Then one of the other players turned to him.
‘Tommy,’ he whispered.
Tom was awake in an instant. No longer the new star striker, leading his favourite football team to victory. Just ten-year-old Tom Fletcher, lying in bed in the middle of the night. With a big problem on his hands.
Outside, the wind was racing up the moor. Tom could hear it whistling through alleyways, making windows tremble in their frames. He lay, not daring to move, with the quilt pulled up around his ears; he was used to the wind by now. In the radiator pipes he could hear the odd gurgle as the house settled down for the night. He was used to that too. From two feet below he could hear the soft ticking of Joe’s breathing. Everything normal.