sneaky glance along the row to see what the other two were doing. They were kneeling like two angels on a Christmas card, eyes firmly closed, in a world of their own. My knees were getting sore, especially the one I’d twisted getting over the fence. I shifted about to try and get more comfortable, and then sat down properly, wondering how long it would be until I knew my fate.
Hours later — or was it minutes? — and without saying anything to each other, they both opened their eyes at the same time and stood up. I got to my feet, too. The rector stepped toward me and took both my hands in his.
“You’re welcome in God’s House, child. You have sought sanctuary with us, and you will find it here. For the time being.” Behind him, Simon was beaming. “This isn’t going to be easy, for any of us. Before we go on, I need you to answer me honestly. Do you have anything with you, any weapons?”
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“No guns or knives? Explosives?” he said, eyeing my backpack, which was lying on the floor.
“No.”
“Do you mind if I, or Simon here, have a look?”
I did mind, as it happened. It wasn’t really my stuff, it was Britney’s, and it was all I had in the world, but I wasn’t really in a position to argue. I undid my bag there and then and tipped it out, the contents spilling onto the tiled floor: food, bottles of water, my cigarettes, some spare undies from Britney.
“We don’t allow smoking in here. I’m sure you understand that.”
I shrugged.
“And your pockets? Would you mind turning out your pockets?”
I dug my hands into the pockets of my coat and my jeans and added old tissues, my lighter, the last bit of change to the pile on the floor. Fifteen years old, and that was everything I had in the world.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to search you.” I shot him a warning look. Now we’re getting to it, I thought. Any excuse for him to stick his fingers where I don’t want him to. Dirty old man. If they started anything, I was ready to defend myself. Neither of them looked like much of a threat to me.
“Simon,” the rector said, “will you do the honors?”
Simon looked more frightened than me. He stepped forward. “I’m sorry about this.” He gently patted my shoulders, and then his hands moved under my arms and down my body. He crouched and patted each leg in turn, his face turned away from my crotch but coloring up all the same. When he’d finished there were beads of sweat on his forehead — sheer stress, I should think. It was a pretty safe bet that he didn’t get that close to a woman too often.
“No, that’s fine,” he said, straightening up. “Nothing there.”
“Good. Now, gather up your things and, Simon, if you show our guest…”
“Jem,” Simon said quickly.
“If you show Jem into the vestry, I will speak with the police and explain that this isn’t a siege. We need to open up; there’ll be people queuing outside for Matins.” He bustled off toward the main door, keen to put his day back on track.
Simon showed me into a side room, where there was a table, and some chairs, and a rack with loads of cloaks and things hanging up.
“Just put your things down here.” He was having trouble looking me in the eye since he’d frisked me. “Tell you what, I’ll put the kettle on. No milk, I’m afraid, but I could make us a black coffee or tea. I’ll just get some water.”
He disappeared into the toilet but left the door open. The tap was running for a long time, and I could hear the squelching of soap as he washed his hands, before the unmistakable sound of the kettle filling up. I know I was pretty grubby from sleeping in that ditch, but I had a feeling it wasn’t just a bit of mud and grass he was washing away.
He smiled straight at me when he emerged. “That’s better. Now, tea or coffee?”
CHAPTER THIRTY
“I’ll talk to them on one condition: They must let Spider go — my mate. I need to see him. He hasn’t done anything. If they let him go, I’ll talk. You can tell them that.”
The rector let out his breath like a burst of steam. “Must we really go backward and forward like this? You are in serious trouble, young