Sinclair, his father Tobias and his elder daughter, Christiana. In the old days this would have been the Renshaw family pew. To all intents and purposes, it still was.
‘We can all get great comfort from the sense of living in an ordered universe,’ continued Harry. ‘Up here, among the hills, where the land plays such an important part in our lives and where the seasons govern so much of what we do, it’s perhaps easier to feel a sense of harmony with the world than we might do in our towns and cities.’
In the soft light of the church, Christiana Renshaw’s large, regular features looked almost beautiful, and very like those of her younger sister. She was looking not at Harry but at an apple in one of the window flower-arrangements. She was sitting several feet away from her grandfather.
‘There is a reason,’ said Harry, ‘why the passage I just read to you is so popular at harvest time, at christenings and weddings, even at funerals. At important times in our lives we like to be reminded that we are part of a great plan, that there is a purpose. And that everything has its place and its time. Our reading today, Ecclesiastes, chapter three, verses one to eight, conveys that better than just about any other biblical piece I can think of. ’
Gillian was sitting eight rows back, immediately behind the Fletcher family. Even from a distance, Harry could see that her hair had been washed and that she was wearing make-up.
‘So it’s rather strange then,’ he continued, ‘that the rest of Ecclesiastes should be the least understood book of the entire Bible.’
*
The service was almost over. The congregation was singing the offertory hymn, Dick and Selby Grimes, the church’s two sidesmen, were carrying round the collection plates and Harry was preparing for Holy Communion. He’d prepared everything the afternoon before, opening the wine and decanting it. All he needed to do now was pour the wine into the chalice. He took the stopper off the decanter, poured some wine into the cup and added water. He took the wafers of the host and placed them on the silver tray. He would carry them round and distribute them. Sinclair would follow him with the wine.
Harry raised the plate into the air. The priest is always the first to receive Holy Communion. Next would be Sinclair and the organist, then the rest of the congregation. Behind him he could hear the sidesmen marshalling people into place.
‘The body of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was given for you, preserve your body and soul unto everlasting life.’ He took a wafer from the plate. ‘Take and eat this in remembrance that Christ died for you, and feed on Him in your heart by faith with thanksgiving.’
Harry put the wafer into his mouth. The organist had finished playing and was crossing to take his place beside Sinclair. The church had fallen silent. Harry could hear the first row of communicants settling themselves at the chancel rail. He should phone Jenny and Mike later, make sure their first service hadn’t been too difficult. He’d pop round if necessary. He lifted the chalice. Could he smell something strange?
‘The blood of our lord Jesus Christ,’ he said, ‘preserve your body and soul unto everlasting life. Drink this in remembrance that Christ’s blood was shed for you and be thankful.’ Harry brought the chalice to his lips. The sun outside came streaming through the window above the altar. For a second the solid-silver chalice looked as crimson-red as its contents.
‘The blood of Christ,’ he whispered to himself. The cold of the silver met his lips.
Outside, rooks were flying around the roof. He could hear them calling to each other. Inside the church, all was still. The congregation was hushed, waiting for him to rise and begin the sacrament.
Slowly, very slowly, Harry put the cup back down on the altar.
There was a white linen napkin just within reach. He grasped it and clutched it to his mouth. He was going to gag, any second now. He picked up the cup again and walked as quickly as he could without spilling its contents to the vestry. He pushed the door open with his shoulder then kicked it shut behind him. He got to the sink just in time.
Red liquid splattered across white porcelain as Harry realized he was retching. And that the entire congregation could hear him. He turned on the cold tap and ran water over his hands.