joking? The church is crammed.”
Dunworthy peered into the nave. The pews were already full, and folding chairs were being set up at the back.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” the vicar said, bustling over with an armful of hymnals. “Sorry about the heat. It’s the furnace. The National Trust won’t let us put in a new fused-air, but it’s nearly impossible to get parts for a fossil-fuel. At the moment it’s the thermostat that’s gone wrong. The heat’s either on or off.” He fished two slips of paper out of his cassock pocket and looked at them. “You haven’t seen Mr. Latimer yet, have you? He’s supposed to read the benediction.”
“No,” Dunworthy said. “I reminded him of the time.”
“Yes, well, last year he muddled things and arrived an hour early.” He handed Dunworthy one of the slips of paper. “Here’s your Scripture. It’s from the King James this year. The Church of the Millennium insisted on it, but at least it’s not the People’s Common like last year. The King James may be archaic, but at least it’s not criminal.”
The outside door opened and a knot of people, all taking down umbrellas and shaking out hats, came in, were order-of-serviced by Colin, and went into the nave.
“I knew we should have used Christ Church,” the vicar said.
“What are they all doing here?” Dunworthy said. “Don’t they realize we’re in the midst of an epidemic?”
“It’s always this way,” the vicar said. “I remember the beginning of the Pandemic. Largest collections ever taken. Later on you won’t be able to get them out of their houses, but just now they want to huddle together for comfort.”
“And it’s exciting,” the priest from Holy Re-Formed said. He was wearing a black turtleneck, bags, and a red and green plaid alb. “One sees the same sort of thing during wartime. They come for the drama of the thing.”
“And spread the infection twice as fast, I should think,” Dunworthy said. “Hasn’t anyone told them the virus is contagious?”
“I intend to,” the vicar said. “Your Scripture comes directly after the bell ringers. It’s been changed. Church of the Millennium again. Luke 2:1–19.” He went off to distribute hymnals.
“Where is your pupil, Kivrin Engle?” the priest asked. “I missed her at the Latin mass this afternoon.”
“She’s in 1320, hopefully in the village of Skendgate, hopefully in out of the rain.”
“Oh, good,” the priest said. “She so wanted to go. And how lucky she’s missing all this.”
“Yes,” Dunworthy said. “I suppose I should read through the Scripture at least once.”
He went into the nave. It was even hotter in there, and it smelled strongly of damp wool and damp stone. Laser candles flickered wanly in the windows and on the altar. The bell ringers were setting up two large tables in front of the altar and covering them with heavy red wool covers. Dunworthy stepped up to the lectern and opened the Bible to Luke.
“And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed,” he read.
The King James is archaic, he thought. And where Kivrin is, it hasn’t been written yet.
He went back out to Colin. People continued to stream in. The priest from Holy Re-Formed and the Muslim imam went across to Oriel for more chairs, and the vicar fiddled with the thermostat on the furnace.
“I saved us two seats in the second row,” Colin said. “Do you know what Mrs. Gaddson did at tea? She threw my gobstopper away. She said it was covered with germs. I’m glad my mother’s not like that.” He straightened his stack of folded orders of service, which had shrunk considerably. “I think what happened is her presents couldn’t get through because of the quarantine, you know. I mean, they probably had to send provisions and things first.” He straightened the already straight pile again.
“Very likely,” Dunworthy said. “When would you like to open your other gifts? Tonight or in the morning?”
Colin tried to look nonchalant. “Christmas morning, please.” He gave an order of service and a dazzling smile to a lady in a yellow slicker.
“Well,” she snapped, snatching it out of his hand, “I’m glad to see someone’s still got the Christmas spirit, even though there’s a deadly epidemic on.”
Dunworthy went in and sat down. The vicar’s attentions to the furnace didn’t seem to have done any good. He took off his muffler and overcoat and draped them on the chair beside him.
It had been freezing last year. “Extremely