‘I’m fine, really. I can manage,’ said Evi.
Harry was holding open the vestry door. She stepped out and he allowed it to close behind her. ‘I don’t doubt that for a minute,’ he said. ‘But I see all my visitors to the gates. Can I…’
He was holding out his right elbow. She shook her head. ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she said again.
They set off and Evi was acutely conscious of her stick tapping on the path between them. It took almost a minute to walk the length of the church. They turned the corner and she heard herself take a sharp breath. She’d forgotten that the ruined abbey had a new congregation. She stopped moving, glad of the excuse to rest for a moment.
‘What on earth are they, Harry?’ she asked, realizing she’d used his name for the first time that morning. ‘I can’t tell you the shock I had when I arrived.’
‘Be glad you’re not seeing them in the dead of night,’ said Harry. ‘I did. Came back to collect the church accounts and nearly had heart failure.’
Evi looked from one bizarre figure to the next. Some male, some female, one – oh cripes, that was the worst, the size of a small child. Then, conscious of Harry waiting patiently by her side, she started moving again.
‘I know it’s nearly Bonfire Night,’ she said, ‘but why so many guys? I’ve never seen such a collection.’
‘They’re not guys,’ said Harry. ‘They’re bone men.’
Evi’s head flicked from the ruins to the man at her side and then back again. ‘Bone men? As in rag-and-bone men?’ she asked.
Harry shook his head. ‘Oh, it’s more literal than that. They’re called bone men, apparently, because a large part of their make-up is exactly that.’
She stopped again. ‘You’re going to have to explain.’
‘Well, it’s another Heptonclough tradition. They have a lot of them up here. This one dates back to the Middle Ages, when there was a charnel house adjoining the church. Every thirty years or so, graves would be opened, the bones dug up and placed in the charnel house. When it was full, they were burned. On a bone fire, which later became known as a bonfire. I had the full history the other day from my churchwarden’s father, whom I’d like to describe as a delightful old man, but that would be pushing it. So I can tell you as much as you want to know about our friends over there, and probably more. For example, they’re all made following the same pattern that old Mr Tobias devised himself fifty years ago.’
‘This is all rather gross. What sort of bones. Surely not hu-’
‘Well, let’s hope not. Although I wouldn’t be entirely surprised. They’re fashioned mainly from natural materials. Most of the framework is willow and they’re stuffed with straw, hay, corn, old vegetables. Each family in the village provides at least one. It’s their way of getting rid of the year’s rubbish – old clothes, paper, bits of wood, anything organic, especially bones. Which they have rather a lot of at this time of year because they’ve just finished slaughtering livestock for the winter. They freeze, dry and salt the meat, boil up the bones for soup and jelly, and then, well I guess they just don’t have enough dogs. If you’d phoned me when you got here like you promised I could have met you and spared you the shock.’
Evi was still looking round the ruin. ‘It must be one hell of a bonfire,’ she said.
‘I think they are the bonfire. Must be quite a sight, although I think I might give it a miss. And don’t worry about saying “hell” on sacred ground. I’m becoming surprisingly open-minded.’
Was she imagining it or was that a glimpse of the old Harry? ‘I’ll bet you are,’ she said. ‘Is the fire here? On church property?’
‘Over my dead… although maybe I should be careful what I say. No, it’s in a field not too far away. You’d have ridden past it the day we met. It’s where they held a sort of harvest ceremony a few weeks ago.’ He stopped.
‘The one you asked me to?’ she said softly.
‘Yes, the night of our aborted first date.’
She had nothing to say. She had to start walking again. She had to get in the car and drive off. Before…
‘You look lovely, by the way,’ he said.
… before he said something like that.
‘Thank you,’ she managed, letting her eyes fall to his feet and then rise back up to his face. ‘You look like a vicar.’
He laughed briefly and seemed to pull away from her. ‘Well, what you see is what you get, I suppose,’ he said. He set off walking again, a little ahead of her this time. Then he stopped and turned back. ‘Was that the problem?’ he asked.
‘Problem?’ she stalled. No, Harry, that hadn’t been the problem.
‘Is that why you changed your mind?’ he said.
She hadn’t changed her mind. ‘It’s complicated,’ she said. What could she possibly tell him? ‘I can’t even explain.’
The smile that had been dancing around at the corners of his mouth faded. ‘There’s really no need,’ he said. He was holding his arm out again. She took it. ‘If you change it back again, you know where I am.’
She really hadn’t changed it in the first place. They were almost at the churchyard entrance. Two or three minutes away from saying goodbye. The sudden appearance of the woman took them both by surprise.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded, glaring at Evi.
Harry was startled. He’d been engrossed with the woman at his side. He hadn’t noticed the other one standing just beyond the church wall.
‘Hello, Gillian,’ he said, cursing his luck. He’d wanted to take his time saying goodbye to Evi, to see if maybe… ‘Did you need to see me?’ he went on. ‘The vestry’s open. Actually, it shouldn’t be. I’m supposed to be locking it up every time I leave the building. I guess I was distracted.’ He smiled down at Evi. She wasn’t looking at him any more. Her eyes were fixed on Gillian. He felt the pressure of her hand on his arm lighten. He pressed his own arm closer to his ribcage and laid his free hand on top of hers.
‘Why are you here?’ demanded Gillian again, taking her eyes off Evi’s face only to glare at her hand, now trapped on Harry’s arm. ‘What were you saying?’
‘Gillian, why don’t you wait…’ he began.
Gillian’s head jerked up. ‘What was she saying? She’s not supposed to-’
‘No, I’m not,’ interrupted Evi. ‘I’m not allowed to talk about my patients – ever – without their permission. So I don’t do it. I came here to see Reverend Laycock about something else entirely.’
‘We weren’t talking about you,’ said Harry, feeling the need to be perfectly clear. He looked from Gillian to Evi. The younger woman looked angry and bewildered. Evi just looked sad. A sudden thought struck him. Oh good grief.
‘Actually, Gillian, I have a meeting at one of my other churches in fifteen minutes,’ he said. ‘Sorry, clean forgot. If you need to talk, you could phone me at home this afternoon. Excuse us now. I have to see Dr Oliver to her car.’
Gillian walked up the path away from them and stopped, just out of earshot. Harry walked Evi out of the churchyard and the few yards to her car. ‘This problem we have,’ he said, keeping his voice low. ‘You know, the one that’s getting in the way of our first date.’
Evi was fumbling in her bag. She didn’t answer him.
‘Did we just encounter it?’ he asked.
She’d found her keys. She pressed the remote control and the car unlocked. He released her arm and moved in front of her to open the car door. She still wasn’t looking at him but had turned back to the abbey ruins.
‘It’s not really any of my business, I know,’ she said, folding up her stick and dropping it on the passenger seat. ‘But is it not odd, to have all these figures on church property?’ Her briefcase went in the car too. She seemed determined not to look at him. ‘I’m just thinking about the Fletcher boys,’ she went on. ‘I imagine this is a pretty scary sight when it’s dark.’