7

Apart from the manager of the flats barking out to her that workmen must park behind the building, and then squeezing down a one-car lane to get there, Berdie found driving the work van not unpleasant.

But now, standing at the door of Dave’s flat, Berdie wondered how pleasant things might be with Chad.

She knocked, breathed a simple “Lord have mercy,” and knocked a second time.

Finally, the door cracked open. An unshaved Chad, dark hair tousled, in his dressing robe and smelling a bit of gin, peered around the door’s edge.

Berdie rocked back at the sight of him, and the aroma offended her nose. Still, she put on a smile. But before she could extend a hello, Chad jumped in.

“So they sent you” was his less-than-sparkling greeting. He opened the door a bit more, but he did not smile.

“They?” Berdie still remained pleasant.

“My dear old colleagues.” Chad placed a hand on the door’s edge, his other hand holding a small, empty, telltale glass. “Hugh rung up and told me you were coming”—his words bumped into each other—“but I can’t find my way to receive anyone at the moment. Now, you must excuse me. I think it best you go, Mrs. Elliott.”

Actually, given the state Chad was in, it probably was best not to enter the flat or pursue any lengthy conversation. Still, she had to make an attempt to engage him. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, Chad. I know the chaps are concerned.”

“Are they?” He leaned against the door’s frame. “Are they really?”

“And so am I. Perhaps if you were to go visit the commander…”

Chad frowned and began to close the door.

Berdie caught hold of it. “Whatever has happened between you and him, forgiveness is always a good choice.”

“Forgiveness?” he bawled. “Save it for your parishioners.”

Berdie’s indignation mingled with compassion. “Chad, you must realize you’re suspect in all this mess. You threatened Cedric just hours before his terrible ordeal. But if you paid him a visit…”

Chad opened the door more widely, leaned his head forward, and narrowed his eyes. “If I had done the commander, I wouldn’t have let him go out a hero, saving children, as is said, and there would be no hospital visits. It would have been a clean and accurate shot, done and dusted.”

Berdie didn’t flinch. “Well, now that we know what didn’t happen, how are you going to deal with what did happen?”

“Deal? Deal? Let me ask you something.” The tone of the young man’s voice was rough. “Let’s say you had a bean”—he shook his head—“a dean, or some churchman supervisor with whom you worked and respected.”

She wondered how many of Chad’s words were fermented in drink and how many were somewhat reasoned.

“They accuse you of immorality, imprudence, carrying on with deceptive intent, all the things that are worst in your line of work. Not that you’re guilty of any of it, mind you. But someone else’s honor is at stake and you can’t grass.” Chad tried to straighten his shoulders a bit. “You’ve put in years of faithful service, and you think surely that will win the day. But no, they tell you that you’re a traitor to the country…church.”

Berdie considered momentarily. Grass, meaning to rat to authorities about someone, wasn’t a common term. He was speaking about his time in the intelligence unit and likely revealing things that shouldn’t be spoken about in public. Though gin-generated, his intent could be decoded. Berdie listened rather more intently.

“Then they quietly push you out of your job.”

“Why push me out quietly if they believe I’ve done horrible things? Why not expose me?”

“And embarrass the coun—” He paused. “And embarrass the church? Reveal its dirty laundry and put lives at risk?”

Lives at risk. Aha.

“They push you out and make sure you can’t possibly work within your chosen field ever again.” He brandished his empty glass like an exclamation mark to prove his point. “You’ve given them your best, and they send you home stripped of all but disgrace. Now, how would you deal?”

Berdie considered her answer. She looked Chad straight in the eye. “As long as I let the feelings of injustice, caused by that high-ranking individual, burn within me to the point of loathing down to my very soul, that person continues to have control over my life.”

Chad cocked his head and blinked as if her words were a sobering cup of black coffee.

“For my own health, wellbeing, and vibrancy, as well as for that of the other person, really, I must move on. By God’s grace, and purely by His grace, there is a way. As an act of the will. Forgiveness is the means to do that. Forgiveness is a bridge to freedom, Chad.”

“Oh, so we’re back to that.”

“You asked how I would deal.”

Chad leaned his body against the doorframe, his glass at his side. “I s’pose I did.”

The fellow’s posture began to slip.

“I won’t keep you any longer, Chad. But do think about what I’ve said. Oh, and going in an entirely different direction, I’m having some guests to dinner Thursday night at the vicarage. I’d love to see you there. Will you come?”

Chad wore surprise and tapped his glass on his chest. “You’re inviting me?”

“And the rest of the rowing team as well.”

He simply stared at her.

She leaned her head closer and lowered her voice. “I should shave before you come.”

He drew a hand over his stubble.

“Thank you for your time, Chad. Do feel better.” Berdie turned to go.

“Mrs. Elliott.” Chad’s gentle response was quite humane. He looked at the floor. “Good of you to call.”

Berdie nodded. “God go with you.”

As she retreated down the hall, she heard the door close. She sent an arrow of prayer up on Chad’s behalf with the sincere hope that he would think on her words and no longer seek empty solace in the bottle.

On her drive home, Berdie attempted to puzzle pieces together. The commander had dismissed Chad from service for what Chad considered some illegitimate reason, still unknown to her. Chad’s words, “Someone’s honor was at stake…I can’t grass,” stuck in her head. Someone close to him was guilty of something, and he knew about it, but no one else did. Who? And what did they do? Did any of this matter tie in with the commander’s misfortune? Things seemed to bump and jumble a bit in her head. And she certainly hadn’t been on the gin.

Berdie tucked the conversation with Chad into a corner of her brain. She had done her church duty as Hugh requested and garnered new information at the same time. Well done for now.

Once back in Aidan Kirkwood, she stopped at the White Window Box Garden and Gifts Shop to get a small gift to take to Tillie tomorrow morning, a kind of peace offering.

As Berdie got out of the work van in front of the shop, Ivy Butz hustled toward Raheem’s Greengrocer on the other side of the road, giving two-and-a-half-year-old Dotty Butz a ride for her money in the pushchair.

Upon seeing Berdie, Ivy delivered a full-throttle wave of her large arm that seemed to emanate from her very toes. Berdie returned the gesture.

“How’s the van working out for you then?”

“Thanks to you and your husband’s generosity, wonderfully. Cheers, Ivy.”

The full-moon cheeks that blossomed at the ends of Ivy’s gracious smile always made the day seem a little brighter. Though she kept her ample body moving toward the grocer’s, her boisterous call, a family trait amongst the Butz household, boomed with exuberance. “Sparks is doing well. My Martha and Milty are so taken with him; it’s all I can do to get them to my dinner table.”

“Vets in training, no doubt,” Berdie returned.

Ivy enthusiastically nodded and continued her march onward.

Two villagers that stood near Berdie glared at Ivy, then at her.

“Mrs. Elliott,” one snipped in greeting and gave a terse nod.

The other leaned close to her friend. “Yelling in the street like a pair of fishwives,” she said just loud enough for Berdie to hear. “And her a vicar’s wife.”

Berdie had too much to do to invest negative energy in reacting to such a comment.

“God go with you,” she called with some grace to the two and stepped into the White Window Box.

Berdie knew just what she wanted to give Tillie. She whisked past the floral counter and went straightway to the shabby chic cupboard that was filled with bath accessories. She chose three lavender bath balls. She took in the lovely scent, being sure Tillie would enjoy a relaxing soak. The young woman would inhale the fragrance while the ball melted with a fizzy action in the warm bath, inducing comfort. After all, lavender was stacked and burned in the wilds to appease restless lions. It would surely help lessen Tillie’s stress.

“Hello, Mrs. Elliott.” Cara Graystone Donovan’s long blonde hair was bound up in a single braid that draped her left shoulder, making her gray eyes and lovely cheekbones even more prominent.

“Cara, hello.” Berdie placed the bath balls in the woman’s hands. “Just purchasing a gift. Could you wrap these, please?”

“Oh, we’ve some newly designed gift-wrap just in that will go quite well. And new ribbon. I’ll just go round the back and take care of it for you.”

“Lovely, Cara. Thank you.”

The young mother bounced behind checkout and disappeared through an open door to a back room.

The jingle of the shop bell danced as someone entered. Berdie recognized the young man right away. He was Mrs. Hall’s nephew, Stuart, and the dentist recently come to Aidan Kirkwood. He had spent boyhood August holidays in Aidan Kirkwood and so loved the place. He now served the village part-time since the bulk of his newly established primary practice was in Timsley.

“Mr. Hall, good afternoon.”

“Hello, Mrs. Elliott. Although I must say it perhaps is not so good for my Aunty Dora.” The rather short dentist ran his tongue on the inside of his lower teeth. “Her oral surgery was today.”

“Yes, probably not a wonderful afternoon for her. My husband plans to call.”

“Ah. Just going to order a small posy to wish her a speedy recovery.” Stuart’s broad smile was dazzling white.

“That’s very kind. I’m sure it will bring comfort to your aunt.”

“Yes.” The fellow looked round.

“Cara should be right out to help you. She’s wrapping a gift for me.”

Mr. Hall nodded.

“Everyone is quite excited about your practice here. You must be amassing patients by the minute.”

“A far greater amount than I anticipated.” The doctor tapped a finger on the floral counter.

“Including the little Limb children?”

“Sorry, who?”

“Oh, perhaps their last name isn’t Limb. Little Emmy and Max. Sweet children. About five and seven? They had an appointment with you late Saturday afternoon.”

The fellow shook his head. “Saturday. No, Jeffry Lawler had two fillings early on, a couple from Mistcome Green had exams, and Mr. Gordon came in with toothache, but no children. In fact, I closed an hour after lunch.”

Berdie tipped her head. “No small children then?”

“Not a one, Mrs. Elliott.”

Cara reappeared. “Here you are, Mrs. Elliott. That’s four pounds fifty.” She handed the perfectly wrapped box to Berdie.

“Mr. Hall.” Cara turned her attention to the young man. “What do you need then?”

Berdie pulled money from her bag and passed it to Cara, who continued her conversation with Stuart Hall while finishing Berdie’s transaction.

Out the door, Berdie sat in the work van and pondered. Why should Mrs. Limb say the children went to the dentist when indeed they hadn’t? It seemed so odd. Did they go to a dentist in Timsley? But that made no sense. She said the vicarage was closer. “Not a one.” Berdie repeated the dentist’s words. With this information, Mrs. Limb, Max, and Emmy became extremely interesting. Now she added another chore on her “must-do” list along with searching out Sundeep and preparing for Thursday’s dinner: find Mrs. Limb and get to the bottom of this strange matter.

****

Berdie told Hugh over dinner that evening about her discussion with Chad.

“I really do need to call on him.” Hugh put down his fork full of lamb cutlet on his dinner plate. “I’ve just had so much on. Rollie and Dave as well. Trying to juggle our moments so that there’s someone with Cedric at all times has been an all-consuming undertaking.”

“Cedric is critical; he’s your first priority.” Berdie placed her hand on Hugh’s arm. “Your time with Chad will come.”

“I know he’s struggling. And can you blame him?”

“I’m sure you know much more about this Chad-Cedric situation than you let on, love, but it’s Chad’s problem to resolve.”

Hugh nodded.

“Trust, Hugh, trust.” Berdie removed her hand.

“Ah yes. Small word, massive effort.”

Berdie took a bite of crispy roasted potato. “May I ask, at the picnic Chad gave a toast to someone, let’s see, someone Fox, was it?”

“Wolf.” Hugh leaned back in his chair. “Yes, Ennis Wolf.”

“Was he one of your military chums?”

“In our unit, yes. Good man. Had a lovely wife and family.” Hugh sighed. “He was captured and eventually died on one of our intelligence operations.”

Berdie eyed Hugh, who had gone quite pensive.

“Ennis and Chad were like brothers. Horrible loss for all of us, but Chad took it quite hard. Extremely hard.”

“Did he?”

Hugh took a deep breath as if to clear the air. “Shall we move on to more pleasant matters?”

Berdie could see that this discussion did not lend itself well to Hugh enjoying his dinner. And she had something important to ask of him.

“I saw Ivy Butz today, and she said Sparks is doing well.”

“Ah, now there’s some good news. Yes, I believe Sparks comes to the hospital tomorrow, if able. Can you be there?”

“Wouldn’t miss.”

“Good, very good.”

“I’m calling on Tillie and Doug in the morning. Lillie’s going with me.”

“Grand idea.”

“I was hoping to invite them to Thursday’s little gathering.”

“Excellent. I must say, I’m looking forward to Thursday.”

“I’ll serve apéritifs in the back garden, weather permitting. It will be a pleasant time. What you think?”

“Good, yes.” Hugh lifted his forkful of lamb to his mouth and munched.

Good, Berdie thought. We’re moving on.

She now considered her agreement with the Raheems: seeking out the whereabouts of Sundeep. She knew Hugh would not be keen on it. But she thought to present herself in an entirely different manner. Her postcard from Angela Rockledge, though she had discarded it yesterday, could make a good excuse to go to the London area.

“And I wanted to ask you, Hugh.”

“Yes?”

“Angela Rockledge is giving a lecture at St. Paul’s, Slough, on Wednesday, and Lillie and I should like to attend.”

“Reverend Rockledge? But you two never see eye to eye. It’s always fireworks between you both. Mind you, I’ve had to put out a few fires of my own with her.”

“It’s just that she’s sent a personal invitation.”

“That landed in the rubbish?” Hugh nodded toward the bin, and then took a drink of water.

Berdie raised her eyebrows. “Oh.” She made a hasty stab at digging herself out of this metaphorical hole. “I’ve reconsidered.”

“Listen, love, I know this mess has been hard on you as well. Actually, a day out for you and Lillie may be just the thing. It could be worth it simply to hear what dear Angela is on about this time.”

“There’s a Q and A after.”

Hugh pointed his empty fork at Berdie. “No questions, nor answers, nor any discussion in the least between you and Angela. Your word sparring would lead only to the need of extending apologies to the good people of…”

“St. Paul’s, Slough.”

“Yes, Slough.”

“On my word, Hugh, no word spars.”

“Right. Well then, while you’re there, you and Lillie must have lunch out as well.”

Berdie ran a finger cross Hugh’s chin. “Now that I can do with nary a thought of sparring at all.”

****

Morning meditation, prayers, exercise, and breakfast behind her, Berdie swept into the guest bedroom Tillie had inhabited.

She had several church activities scheduled today, but visiting Tillie and Doug first thing was her special task.

Sure enough, on the bedside chest was a library book, and earrings, just as Tillie had said.

She stuffed them into her shopping bag that also held Tillie’s wrapped gift and rushed down the stairs, out the front door, and hurried the entire length of the High Street to the village green where Kirkwood Green B and B stood in a stately manor just cross the grassy expanse.

Lillie had agreed to meet Berdie at the bed and breakfast at 9:15 AM. Berdie hoped she would be punctual. After the upheaval of Doug and Tillie’s departure, Berdie wanted all to go well.

“I met with Sharday Raheem yesterday afternoon,” Lillie informed when Berdie met her just inside the door of the B and B. “I’ve so much to tell you.”

“And I want to hear it all, once we do what’s at hand at the moment.”

“Hello, Mrs. Elliott, Lillie,” Cherry Lawler greeted. Her bright smile was just what you would expect from the young wife who, along with her husband, Jeffry, owned and operated the gracious country home-cum-bed and breakfast.

“Mr. Devlin’s expecting you. I’ll just let him know that you’re here.”

Cherry had the scent of grilled bacon about her, a leftover from preparing breakfast for her guests, no doubt. The band she wore in her pixy-cut blonde hair contrasted with the colorful apron that covered her petite body.

“The sitting room’s open. There’s hot tea and coffee available on the tray at the sideboard.” She pointed to the cozy room that had no fire in the inglenook but was warm with sunlight that streamed through glass double doors overlooking a terrace.

Berdie and Lillie stepped into the cheery room when the clatter of Doug wheeling his way into the reception hall sounded.

“Your guests are here, Mr. Devlin,” Cherry chirped.

“Good morning,” Doug offered as he entered the sitting room. He looked rather tired.

“Doug, I hope we find you well.” Berdie’s voice was summery as she and Lillie sat on the sofa. “Sleeping soundly, I should hope.”

“As well as can be expected.” He rolled to the double doors and rapped on one.

Berdie spied Tillie, in exercise gear, doing stretches on the terrace. Her hair pulled back, the body-hugging spandex she wore showed her figure well and had an open neckline that bared her upper chest. Berdie couldn’t help but notice the large red line of thick horizontal scar tissue now made visible by that neckline.

Berdie heard Lillie lightly gasp.

Tillie looked at her father, who pointed to Berdie.

“Come in, love,” he said in high volume.

The young woman, instinctively it seemed, put her hand over the unattractive area and grabbed a nearby fleece jumper, which she quickly put on, covering the mark.

Berdie glanced at Lillie, who returned the stare with eyebrows raised. It was obvious to Berdie that both she and Lillie wanted to know what had caused the unsightly blemish, yet it seemed rude to ask.

Tillie moved to the door, opened it, and stepped into the sitting room.

“Getting ready for a morning run,” Tillie announced.

Yes, Berdie remembered her occasional morning runs when she was still a guest in her home.

“Your regular exercise?” Lillie asked with a smile.

“I shouldn’t say regular, no. Only as often as I’ve time for,” Tillie quipped.

“We won’t be long.” Berdie pulled the earrings and book from her shopping bag and set them on the coffee table. When she did, two photos fluttered from inside the book and landed on the polished wood floor.

Berdie picked them up. The first picture was a family portrait. Doug, pride written on his face, in naval uniform, stood next to a seated attractive woman who dressed in trendy clothes for the time. A young lad sat in her lap. Berdie assumed the woman to be Doug’s wife and the boy, a son. Young Tillie wore a sweet smile, her golden hair in curls as she stood next her father. The portrait was obviously taken of the family before Doug’s injuries.

“What a charming family portrait.” Lillie cocked her head to see it. “You must be very proud of your children, Mr. Devlin.”

“Child,” Tillie corrected. “My brother isn’t with us anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lillie apologized.

Tillie sighed. “Unfortunately, there was a childhood accident.”

“I’ve not heard you speak of your brother before,” Berdie said with a slightly diffident tone while handing the photo to Tillie.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Doug mumbled and looked at Tillie.

“It benefits no one,” she said. “Needless to say, he left us too early. We loved him dearly.”

“Of course you did.” Berdie worked to rescue this conversation that seemed to have taken a sad turn.

She reached down and retrieved the second photo from the floor. It was Doug and young Tillie. He had his arm round her shoulders, both wearing outdoor gear, both sporting huge smiles. And beyond rugged terrain about them, a dazzling blue sky set it off. “Well, the two of you look ready for a celebration in this picture.”

“Oh, yes.” Doug pulled forward, eying the snap. “That’s when we reached the summit of Mt. Snowden.”

Berdie passed the picture over to Doug.

“Quite an accomplishment,” Lillie cheered.

“Just one of our many conquests.” Tillie rather beamed. “Let’s see, we hiked in Scotland…”

“And Ireland,” Doug added.

“Yes, and the Pennines. All through the Lake District. Where didn’t we go?”

“Sounds lovely,” Berdie chirped.

“Dad was Sir Edmund Hillary and I was his Sherpa Tenzing.” Tillie laughed.

Doug’s smile widened as he drew a finger cross the photo. “Marvelous, that was. Mind you, young as she was, Tillie seemed to never tire, never complained anyway. She was half mountain goat.”

“Only half? Who did you think made the cloven hoof marks in our back garden after that climb?”

Everyone grinned while Doug handed the photo to his daughter.

Lillie eyed the book. “Cloak of Deception,” Lillie read the title out loud. “Sounds like a good mystery.”

“Yes, it is,” Tillie asserted. “Required reading for a class I’m taking.”

“Is it?” Doug stared at Tillie.

Tillie took up the book and earrings. She held them to her chest. “It’s an online class, Dad. Don’t you remember? I told you.”

“Did you?” Doug’s gaze drifted to the coffee table. “I, I must have forgotten.”

Something seemed painfully awkward. Was Doug’s medication creating blanks in his memory?

“I must get on,” Tillie announced.

“Oh.” Berdie grabbed the gift from the bag and stood. “This is just something for you, Tillie. I thought you might enjoy it.”

“How kind. Thank you, Mrs. Elliott.” Tillie took the gift-wrapped box while Doug turned his wheelchair toward the sitting-room door.

“Before we go, I have an invitation I’d like to extend to you both. I’m having the rowing team for dinner Thursday, round seven, and I’d love for you both to come.”

Tillie looked at her father, who had stopped at the doorway.

He put his gaze on Berdie. “Chad’s coming?”

“Well, he has been invited. But I’ve invited others as well, including Natty Bell and her niece, Sandra.” Berdie watched for Doug’s reaction.

He perked, but not quite as much as Berdie had hoped. “Sandra? Really? Well, yes, I’d say Tillie and I would love to come. Right, love?”

“If you like, Dad.”

Doug smoothed his hair with a finger. “We’ll be there. Thank you, Mrs. Elliott, Miss Foxworth. That’s me off then.”

When Doug left the room, Tillie watched after him. “Who’s Sandra?” she asked Berdie.

“A woman he met Sunday at church. He sat next her.”

“A very available woman,” Lillie added as she stood.

Berdie glared at Lillie.

“Available?” Tillie sounded a bit alarmed.

“Unattached might be a better word,” Berdie quickly corrected.

Lillie stammered. “Oh, yes, what I mean to say is that she’s very kind, modest, thoughtful, and single,” Lillie explained. “It seems your father may rather fancy her.”

“Does he?” Tillie was less than joyful. “Does she have any interest in Dad?”

“It appeared so.” Berdie’s grin slowly faded as she watched Tillie shake her head.

“We’re only here until this investigation moves on, you know. Then Daddy can get back to where he’s comfortable.”

“Well, yes, but I thought…”

“Thank you for bringing my things, Mrs. Elliott, and for the gift.”

Berdie paused. “You’re welcome of course, Tillie.

“Enjoy the rest of your day. Please excuse me.”

“God go with you,” Berdie called after the departing woman.

“I should have thought Tillie would love for her father to make a female acquaintance, even if it is just for an evening.” Lillie frowned.

“I didn’t consider how she would feel about this.” Berdie took the handles of her shopping bag with both hands. “I should have thought. Tillie: the little protective mother. Had I considered, I would have approached things a bit differently.”

“Does she think Sandra, whom he met at church, will ravish her father on an evening, and then throw him to the wolves?”

“Once she meets Sandra, she’ll feel much more comfortable about it all.”

“That was certainly quick.” Cherry Lawler stuck her head around the corner. “Did anyone get any tea?”

“Sometimes it seems the rush of modern life is all jingling bells and whirling dervishes, Cherry.” Berdie spun her finger in a circle. “No tea had by anyone, and Lillie and I must get on as well.”

“Event planning,” Lillie added. “London calling,” she whispered Berdie’s way.

As if on cue, Lillie’s mobile sang out. “Hello?” she answered.

“You see, Cherry?” Berdie clipped. “Jingling bells.”

“Oh my,” Lillie squeaked. “Yes, I’m so sorry. I’ll be right there.” She dropped the mobile back into her bag. “Music lesson rescheduled. Mrs. Hazelgrove. I completely forgot. Must run.” Lillie took aim for the door. “We’ll speak tomorrow, Berdie, yes, tomorrow.”

“See you then.” Berdie looked after the friend who skittered out the front door.

“What was that you said, Mrs. Elliott, about whirling dervishes?” Cherry chuckled. “Well, I hope all the events you’re planning go smoothly,” she offered. “And prayers for the commander as well. I understand the dog visits him tomorrow. Let’s hope it’s a tonic for both.”

Berdie took a deep breath. “From your mouth to God’s ear, dear Cherry, to God’s ear.”