sleep.’
‘I’m glad to hear that,’ said Harry. He sat, his best patient-and-interested look on his face, waiting for what she was going to say next.
‘Do you have faith, Gillian?’ he asked, when he realized she wasn’t going to talk again. Sometimes it was best to get right to the point.
She stared at him as though she didn’t quite …’ You mean, do I believe in God?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘Yes, that’s what I mean,’ he said. ‘Losing someone we love is very difficult. Even the strongest faith will be tested.’
Her hand was shaking again. The tea would scald her. He reached out, took the mug from her and placed it on the floor.
‘Someone came to see me, after it happened,’ she said. ‘A priest. He said Hayley was with her father in heaven and she was happy and that should comfort me, but how can she be happy without me? She’ll be on her own. She’s two years old and she’s on her own. That’s what I can’t get my head around. She’ll be so lonely.’
‘Have you lost any family members before, Gillian?’ he asked. Are your parents alive?’
She looked puzzled. ‘My dad died when I was small,’ she said. ‘In a car accident. And I had a younger sister who died a long time ago.’
‘I’m sorry. What about grandparents? Do you have any?’
‘No, they all died. What…’
He was leaning forward, had taken hold of both her hands. ‘Gillian, there’s a reading that’s given often at funeral services, you may have heard it. It was written by a bishop about a hundred years ago and it compares the death of a loved one to standing on the seashore, watching a beautiful ship sail out of sight on the horizon. Can you picture that for a second, imagine blue sea, a beautiful carved wooden boat, white sails?’
Gillian shut her eyes. She nodded her head.
‘The boat’s getting smaller and smaller and then it disappears over the horizon and someone standing by your side says, "She’s gone.
Tears were forming in the corners of Gillian’s closed eyes.
‘But even though you can’t see her any more, the ship is still there, still strong and beautiful. And just as she disappears from your sight, she’s appearing on other shores. Other people can see her.’
Gillian opened her eyes.
‘Hayley is like that ship,’ said Harry. ‘She may be gone from your sight but she still exists, and in the place where she is now there are people who are thrilled to see her: your dad, your sister, your grandparents. They will take care of her and they will love her, unconditionally, until you can join her again.’
The girl’s howl tore at his heart. He stayed where he was, watching her thin body sob and her tears fall on to his hands. For five, maybe ten minutes she wept, and he held her hands until he felt her pulling away from him. He didn’t have tissues but somewhere in the vestry there was kitchen roll. He walked quickly back to the vestry, found it beside the sink and, returning, handed it over. She wiped her face and tried to smile up at him. Her eyes, washed by tears, were almost silver. Dr Oliver’s eyes had been blue. A deep, violet blue.
In the pocket of his shorts, his mobile started to ring. He should ignore it, let it go to the answer service, get back to whoever it was later. Except he knew who it was.
‘Excuse me,’ he said, getting up. ‘I’ll be back in a sec.’
He walked a few paces down the aisle and pressed Answer.
‘Harry Laycock.’
‘Berengaria speaking.’
‘Did you make it back safely, Dr Oliver?’
‘Now that’s … a bit spooky. How’d you do that?’
Harry glanced back up the aisle to where Gillian was staring at the floor. She was too close, she’d hear everything he said. ‘Like my boss, I work in mysterious ways,’ he answered.
There was a second’s pause.
‘Right, well, thanks for your help,’ came Dr Oliver’s voice. ‘But Duchess and I are both back where we belong and none the worse for our adventure.’
‘Delighted to hear it.’ Gillian was looking at him now. She wouldn’t like the interruption. The bereaved could be selfish. Not great timing, Princess. ‘You take care now,’ he said. ‘And say hello to Duchess for me.’
‘I’ll do that.’ The voice on the phone had fallen flat. ‘Goodbye.’
She was gone. And he had to get back to Gillian. Who was no longer sitting calmly on the front choir stall but was on her feet,