Read Online Time's Legacy by Barbara Erskine - Free Book Online Page B

Someone made me do it –’ He reached out for her again. ‘Abi, listen!’
    ‘No! You listen. Leave me alone.’ She tried to dodge backwards, and came up hard against the end of a pew.
    He caught her by the shoulders. Suddenly his voice changed. ‘You’ve hurt me, Abi.’ There was blood seeping down his chin.
    And I’ll hurt you again.’ She could feel the panic mounting as his fingers bit into her flesh. She tried to wriggle free. ‘Let me go, you bastard!’
    He released her shoulders and with a quick movement of one hand slapped her across the face. ‘Don’t use that language with me. Don’t you dare!’ His eyes were still frantic. ‘Don’t you see, we can help each other. I’m trying to be patient with you! You have to understand.’
    ‘Don’t bother!’ She managed to duck free of his grasp and lurched past him towards the door. In seconds she had wrenched it open and was outside, running down the path towards the cars.
    Kier had waited for everyone else to arrive before he went back into the church next morning. Hovering in the doorway he looked round. The place was bright and full of noise; he could smell coffee, hear laughter, see the dust of centuries rising before the onslaught of brooms as one by one the pews were hauled out of their serried ranks towards the back of the church. There was no sign of Abi.
    Kier rang her mobile twice, but it was switched off. Determinedly he put her out of his mind. There were enough people to keep the terrors away.
    It was late by the time they had finished and his was the only car left parked in the lane. All he had to do was pull the door to and turn the key. He stood in the doorway and looked inside. The church was very quiet now the others had gone home. Hesitantly he stepped inside and looked around. He waited tensely, afraid for a moment they would still be there, the shadows, but there was nothing. The place felt clean and free. The churchyard had been tidied up, the pews stacked at the back of the nave. Tomorrow a van would collect them and they would go into storage until the diocese decided what to do with them. Pub furniture was a favoured option, he had heard. It would raise some much-needed money. Now the nave of the old building was empty it felt much larger than before. Somehow wrong. He pushed the thought aside, turning to face the altar. It was bare but for a plain blue cloth. No cross, no candlesticks, just that hideous old crucifix on the wall below the east window. He shuddered. That would have to go. The young people would hate it. They should have moved it today. Slowly he began to walk up what had been the aisle, the line of it still marked by the dust left on the old paving slabs where the pews had stood for so many years. Strange, that Abi hadn’t liked this idea of clearing the church. As a young new face she ought to represent the young avant-garde wing of the church, against all the ritual and the flummery. He shook his head sadly. How could he have messed up so badly with her? Everything he had said and done she had misunderstood. He shivered. She was strong. Yet she had seen the ghosts. He bit the knuckle of his finger thoughtfully. And she hadn’t seemed to mind. She hadn’t been afraid.
    He shook his head. He was beginning to have serious second thoughts about Abi. He had thought her capable, able to cope with any phenomena which manifested here, in the church, but perhaps he was wrong in thinking that was a good thing. Perhaps she was the cause of the unrest. He stared round, his eyes darting here and there into the shadows. Maybe people were right in having reservations about women in the priesthood.
    Could he have been so wrong about her? At the beginning he had thought she was everything a good priest should be. Was it his fault she was veering off the path like this? Surely they would have spotted any problems at college when they were first assessing her suitability for the priesthood. He shook his head. Spiritual healing,