again. ‘That’s very kind,’ he went on. ‘And next year I’d love to. But I have a big day tomorrow. I probably should get an early night.’
‘Next year then.’ Jenny had been working. Her short fingernails were dirty and there was straw on her sweatshirt.
‘I wish Gillian would go home,’ said Harry. ‘It’s getting cold and she never seems to wear a proper coat.’ Evi’s fingernails had been short too, but very clean and polished. Funny, the things you noticed.
Jenny glanced over Harry’s shoulder. ‘Gillian’s been looking a lot better lately,’ she said. ‘We’ve been worried about her for some time. She really didn’t seem to be coping.’
‘She suffered a terrible loss,’ said Harry.
Jenny took a deep breath. ‘I lost a daughter too, Vicar. Did you know that?’
‘I didn’t,’ he replied, turning away from Gillian to meet Jenny’s hazel eyes. ‘I’m so sorry. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?’
‘In a way. It was ten years ago, so I’ve had more time, I suppose. But there’s not a day goes by when the pain isn’t there. When I don’t think, what would she have been doing today? How would she look, now that she’s eight, or nine, or ten?’
‘I do understand,’ Harry said, although he knew he didn’t, not really. No one could appreciate that sort of pain unless they’d lived through it.
‘Are you nervous about tomorrow?’ Jenny was asking him.
‘Of course,’ he replied truthfully. ‘I’ve led worship in my other two parishes and that went fine, but here’s different somehow. Probably because the church has been closed for so long. I haven’t managed to find out yet why that was.’
‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we sit down for a second?’
Harry found himself following Jenny to the old shepherds’ bench where he’d sat with Evi. She still hadn’t called him back.
Jenny was twisting her car keys in her hand. ‘It’ll be fine tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I think you’ll have a good turn-out. People are ready to start using the church again.’
‘Why did they stop?’ he asked, realizing she needed a direct question.
She wasn’t looking at him. ‘Out of respect,’ she said. ‘And also out of sadness. Lucy, my daughter, died in the church.’
And no one had thought to warn him? ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said.
‘She fell from the gallery. It was my fault. We weren’t even in the church, we were at Dad’s house and I was talking to someone – to Gillian and her mother, as it happened. They used to work for us. I didn’t see Lucy wander off.’
‘From the gallery?’ said Harry. ‘You mean like Millie Fletcher almost did the other week?’
Jenny nodded. ‘You can understand now why we were all so upset by that. It just seemed the most dreadful, stupid joke. Those boys, I don’t know what goes on in their heads …’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Harry. ‘Please, tell me about Lucy. She just wandered away when you weren’t looking?’
‘We started searching, of course, but we looked in the house – it’s a big house – and then the garden, then the lane outside. It never occurred to us that she might have made her way into the church. And up all those steps. By the time we found her, she was cold. And her skull, her little skull was just …’
The blood was draining from Jenny’s face. Her whole body was shaking.
‘I’m so terribly sorry,’ repeated Harry. ‘I had no idea. All this … opening up the church again, it must be very distressing for you.’
‘No, it’s fine, I’m ready.’ Jenny was still pale, but the trembling seemed to be slowing down. ‘I asked Dad not to mention what happened,’ she was saying. ‘I wanted to tell you myself.’
‘That was very brave of you. Thank you.’ It certainly explained a lot. He’d been told that ten years ago the parishioners had suddenly stopped using the church. When the incumbent vicar retired, the diocese had formally closed the building. Only when the parish had been united with two others had the decision been taken to reopen. He’d had no idea what had really lain behind it all.
At the top of the lane, Gillian was still hovering. Jenny saw his eyes flicker and turned her head to look up the hill.
‘I was godmother to Gillian’s daughter,’ she said. ‘A couple of months before the fire, I gave her all Lucy’s old clothes, including some really precious ones that Christiana had made. It felt like a big step forward