12
Nick watched as the Chadwicks’ faces went through a myriad of emotions from shock to joy.
Mrs. Chadwick dropped to the couch. “What…? Where is she? Is she OK?”
“She’s doing all right,” Nate said.
“Are you sure it’s her?”
He nodded. He held out the battered photo. “She had this with her. I told her I’d let her have the photo back.”
Mrs. Chadwick took the picture. “It’s us. Where is she?”
“Right now she’s in a safe house here in Headley Cross.”
Nick stifled a grin at that description of the manse, not sure how Jack would take it if he found out.
“Can we see her?”
“She has several issues she’s working through right now,” Nate said diplomatically. “And there are several other concerns you need to be made aware of.”
“Like what?” Mr. Chadwick asked. “She’s our daughter. Surely nothing else matters.”
“Nick, do you want to explain?” Nate asked.
Not really. Nick sucked in a deep breath, not sure how to say any of it without saying too much. He cleared his throat. “I met her in the block of flats I live in. She was moving out. I helped her down the stairs with her bags as the lift wasn’t working.” Nick stopped to gather his thoughts.
“She’s been here all along?” Grace interrupted.
Nick nodded. “From what she’s told me, yes, she’s been working and living here for several years. She lost her job just recently and the flat went with that. Since then she’s been in a homeless shelter.”
Mrs. Chadwick started crying.
Mr. Chadwick tried to comfort her.
Joel and Elliott put their arms around Faith and Grace.
Rick swallowed hard. “Is she OK?”
“Like DI Holmes said, she’s working through some stuff. She’s asking a lot of questions about God and I’ve convinced her to come and hear me preach tomorrow morning. But she’s adamant no one will want her back once they know the truth about her.”
“And what is the truth?” Faith asked.
Nick looked at Nate. “Angel is…”
“In the back bedroom. Lower your voices,” Nate said.
Grace caught her breath. “Is she Hope’s daughter?”
Nick nodded. “She was pregnant with Angel when she ran away. She was convinced you’d disown her.”
“We didn’t approve of that man she was hanging around with.” Mr. Chadwick frowned. “He was far too old for her. She was only fifteen when she first started seeing him.”
“He managed a brothel,” Nick said quietly. “In which he gave her a job.”
A collective gasp shot through the room.
“Tactfully done, Nick,” Nate muttered, writing something in his notebook.
“She’s a prostitute?” Rick asked.
“Was,” Nick said quickly. “She stopped before Angel was born. Got a waitressing job, put herself through college, and got a job as a social worker. She wanted the best for Angel.”
Nate looked at them. “I can’t let her have Angel back right now. The DSS have laid some serious allegations at her feet. I’m pretty sure they are all false, especially given the information I’ve learned and the glowing report Angel has given me of her mum. But until I know for definite, I have to proceed as if Angel is at risk in her care.” He paused. “Another twenty four hours or so should tell the tale, one way or the other.”
“I want to see her,” Mrs. Chadwick said. “No matter what she’s done, she’s my daughter.”
Nate nodded. “You can see her when she’s ready. What I’d suggest for now is a letter. I’ll pass it on to her, and return her photo.” He took the picture and slid it into his pocket.
“Angel can stay here as long as—” Grace broke off as Angel came into the room carrying something. “What have you found, sweetie?”
“Why have you got a photo of my mummy?” Angel asked holding the picture out.
The room went deathly quiet.
Grace knelt on the floor and took hold of the little girl’s hand. “Because your mummy is my sister. And I haven’t seen her for the longest time. I miss her very much.”
Angel studied her. “Does that mean you and Faith are my aunties?”
Grace nodded. “And that also means that Rick is your uncle and these are your grandparents.”
“I never had none of them afore,” Angel said. “Do you want us or are we going away again?”
Grace shook her head. “No, you’ll never have to go away again.” She hugged Angel and looked up at Elliott. “Hope can have the flat over the shop and have a job too, if she wants it.”
“Slow down, love.” Elliott knelt beside her. “She may not want that. The first step to her coming home has to be hers, right?”
“When?” Grace asked. “When can I see her?”
“Write the letter,” Nick said. “I’ll bring her to church tomorrow and leave the ball in her court.”
“Nick! How come you’re here? Is Mummy with you?”
“No, she isn’t. But she’s OK.” He pulled the rabbit from his pocket and held it out. “I believe this is yours.”
Angel squealed and held out her arms. “Mr. Evans-Teush. I thought I’d never see you again.”
Nick grinned. “See, Christmas is a time for reunions.”
****
Eight on the dot the following morning, Nick rang the bell at the manse. He wondered what sort of reaction his hair would get.
Jack didn’t let him down as he rolled his eyes.
“What?” Nick said, handing over his coat.
“That’s not a haircut. It’s a massacre.” Jack shook his head with a sigh.
“Jealous…” Nick teased. He went into the kitchen and sighed as Hope simply pushed the toast around the plate. “Doc wants you to eat,” he told her. “He’ll make good his threat of the IV if you don’t. And that would look stupid in church this morning.”
“I’m not going. I can’t” She didn’t raise her gaze from the plate.
“You promised.” He slathered butter over the toast and reached for the jam.
Several different expressions crossed Hope’s face in a matter of seconds.
The silence was oppressive, almost too heavy to bear.
He sat still, unsure of her reaction. Finally, he took a deep breath. “What’s up?” he asked.
Hope looked at him and indicated with her finger for him to turn round.
Rolling his eyes, Nick stood, twirled around, and then turned to face her.
Her eyes were wide as she stared at his hair. “Did you get the number of the lawn mower that hit you?” she asked wryly.
Jack put a cup in front of him. “Coffee. And yes, I agree with the lawnmower comment.”
“Thanks.” Nick pulled a face at Hope and sat. He picked up his toast. “Just because it’s a bit shorter than normal,” he began.
Hope snorted. “Nick! It’s a grade one! It couldn’t get any shorter.”
“Sure it could,” he said. “I could be bald. And it was always this short when I was in the army. So you don’t like it then?”
“It’s great,” she said, not sounding very convincing. “It suits you. It’ll just take the congregation time to get used to.”
“You’ll have time. Besides, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
****
The minute Nick walked into the church with his incredibly short haircut, and wearing Carson’s bike leathers, he regretted it. Going for the shock effect had succeeded. He walked to the vestry hearing the whispers around him of how far he had fallen.
Jack rolled his eyes as soon as the door was shut. “I assume you know what you’re doing?”
Carson looked over. “He cleared it with me. It’s fine.”
Jack led the service.
Nick sat with Hope. Her family was on the other side of the church. She hadn’t noticed them, and Nick wouldn’t point them out. She seemed uneasy enough. Hardly anyone looked anywhere other than him. The way he was dressed was influencing the way they saw him. They no longer saw a pastor, they saw a thug or bad-boy biker.
Nick glanced down at his sermon notes and made a decision he just hoped he wouldn’t regret. After the third hymn he moved to the front of the pulpit. He looked out over the congregation, all sitting there with the sermon points on their laps. “You won’t need those,” he said. He ripped up his sermon. “Because I’m not preaching on that subject.”
The murmuring got louder.
Nick was certain Jack glared at him even though he didn’t look at the other pastor.
“This morning, I want to talk about attitudes and preconceived ideas over what people are and what they do. How the way they dress or cut their hair or the way they talk or even their job affect the way we look at them. I mean there’s a huge difference between a doctor and a dustman or a school teacher or a prostitute. Or is there? And before anyone walks out thinking this isn’t relevant I want you to think about appearances. The looks I’ve been given this morning made me think about how the way people dress influences the way they are perceived. But it’s the inside that matters, not the outward appearance.”
He glanced at Jack, who still had his arms crossed. “This week we celebrate Christmas. Jesus’s birth was foretold for centuries. People expected someone who’d save his people. Probably expecting another David, or Moses, to free them from Roman tyranny. After all He was referred to as great David’s greater Son.
“However, what they got wasn’t what they’d expected. A baby born to a couple of villagers, a couple of no ones. She wasn’t even married when she became pregnant. Imagine what they’d make of it if they knew her betrothed wasn’t even the father.
“A King, who was born a pauper. A carpenter who used hands that created us, to create furniture. He didn’t look anything like Who He was. In fact, no one from His home town recognized or acknowledged Him. Yet despite the fact the King of Kings had been born in a stable not a palace, He was still King. He did not dress in royal robes, yet it did not change who He was. ”
He finished preaching, trying not to look at Hope too much, but she seemed uncomfortable.
By the end of the service, she was rooted to the spot, tears falling like rain.
Nick left the pulpit and headed quickly to her side. “Hey, I wasn’t that bad, was I?”
Hope leaned against him, sobbing hard.
Nick sat there, not sure what to do. As a pastor he couldn’t just hug her in church, but not holding her seemed wrong. But he couldn’t leave her sobbing in the chapel either. Somehow he got her to her feet and led her into the vestry. He left the door ajar slightly, not wanting to put either of them in a position that he’d only regret later. Perhaps Jack or Carson would see him and come in as well.
Footsteps crossed the steps and the door shut. “Want a hand?” Elliott asked.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said helplessly as Hope sobbed. “I want to hold her…”
“But it’s inappropriate,” Elliott said. “That was a great sermon, by the way.”
“Thanks. I made it up as I went along.”
“Nah, I think God did and you just relayed His message.”
Nick took a deep breath. “Will you pray with us here? Two voices might be better than one.”
Elliott nodded. “Of course.”
“Hope?” Nick put a hand over one of Hope’s and caught his breath as she laced her fingers into his.
“Help me,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to be like this anymore, but I don’t know what to say.”
Nick squeezed her hand. “This is Elliott, one of the elders. We’ll pray with you, is that OK?”
****
Hope nodded. She just wanted this dirty feeling within her to go and wanted to put things right with God.
Elliott started praying and the last vestiges of the dam broke within her.
Then Nick prayed.
She echoed his words in her heart. Finally, she prayed, her voice stumbling through her tears. She had no idea how long she sat there crying, but a sense of peace filled her before she looked up. “Thank you.”
Nick smiled. “Welcome.”
“I feel better than I have in a long time.”
“Good.”
Elliott pulled out his wallet. “I have something for you. My fiancée is looking after Angel. DI Holmes has been touching base with us a lot and said you’d be here this morning. And when Nick called you Hope just now, I figured it must be you. She took this photo yesterday, and we wanted you to have it.”
Hope took the photo, and glanced down. Angel sat under the Christmas tree. She held a handwritten sign saying ‘I luv you Mummy.’
“Angel made the sign herself,” Elliott said. “She’s always asking after you and praying for you.”
Tears filled Hope’s eyes again. “I miss her so much.”
“Just like your family misses you,” Nick said. “Nine years is a long time.”
“I miss them too,” she whispered. “If I could go to Ely I would, but who knows where they are now?”
Elliott touched her hand. “I’ll speak to Nate on my way out, and ask him to tell them you’re safe. Their reaction might surprise you.”
Hope looked at him and then at Nick. As Nick smiled and nodded, she turned back to Elliott. “OK, thank you.”
Nick grinned. “After all. Christmas is a time for families and miracles. And we’ve already had one today, who’s to say we can’t have another?”