Read Online White Lilies by RC Bridgestock - Free Book Online
Authors: RC Bridgestock
Tags: UK
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just scored the winning goal at Wembley. She’d got her first real date.
She took the stairs two at a time and launched herself into her bedroom, flinging open her wardrobe door. What on earth was she going to wear, she thought as she picked out her clothes one by one and discarded them on the bed? Tops, skirts, jumpers flew out of her drawers. She could feel panic rising. There were only a few days to decide. She stood at the foot of the bed and flopped backwards, sighing. Dreaming of Danny, she thought she’d burst with joy as she pulled her teddy off her pillow and hugged him tight. ‘Teds,’ she said. ‘This is it. I’m all grown up now and I don’t need you any more.’ Teds flew up in the air and landed in the rubbish bin.
‘We need to get Pam to invite us into her house,’ Billy said.
‘Not yet, we’re gonna do that twat over that cut us up first,’ said Danny, gazing at Number 42. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and Billy knew his friend was working out a plan of action. When Danny had his mind set, nothing Billy could say or do would change it.
‘Whatever,’ Billy said nodding his head to the beat of the music.
Chapter 10
The coffin bore a solitary arrangement of white lilies. Inside were the remains of Grace Harvey and Winston. Donald Harvey and her close friends inched their way up the slope towards All Saints Church, Merton which stood on a hill in the heart of the village, just a short walk away from the river Heddle itself and next to the village green.
Waiting for them at the top of the hill was a tight circle of Grace’s neighbours and villagers. Taylor stood outside the entrance of the church and watched the tear-drenched face of a little girl break out in a nervous giggle as she walked the path between the gravestones. Overcome presumably by the stress of the funeral, she raised her trembling face, framed with a black Alice band, to an older lady at her side, as if in search of reassurance.
‘So I won’t weep any more, because you are now in a better place than you were before,’ said the vicar with much heartfelt regret and resignation at his beloved parishioner’s awful fate.
At the rear of the congregation Taylor stood looking up at the stained glass window designed by William Morris, the card next to her on a small lectern informed her. According to legend, said a mounted plaque above, the original foundations for the church were laid in a flat, easily accessible site but every morning were found transferred to the hill where the church exists today. Eventually the builders gave up building it in the planned flat location and built it on the hill.
The congregation stood in sombre fashion at the graveside. The sun was hot, there wasn’t a breath of air, birds sang and the atmosphere was tranquil. There was no traffic noise and it seemed to Taylor that the whole of mankind had stopped for that moment in time as she stood on the periphery of the mourners, looking in.
It was her duty at the funeral to see what she could glean from people who attended. Already she had noticed that Donald Harvey didn’t appear distressed, just agitated. He kept looking around him as though searching for someone in the crowd. Interestingly, there had been no words of anger from him or bitterness towards the party that did this to his mother. Only towards the man who he believed took her money. She needed to speak to him regarding her conversation with Brian Stevenson and she would when she could get him alone.
However, no sooner had Grace been lowered into the ground than she watched Donald Harvey sprint across the graveyard towards a solitary dark figure standing beneath a large oak tree. To the amazement of the mourners, within seconds he was raining blows on the man who he had firstly knocked to the ground.
Taylor hitched up her tight skirt and ran best she could across the grass in her stilettos, until her heel caught in the earth and she toppled face first to the
She took the stairs two at a time and launched herself into her bedroom, flinging open her wardrobe door. What on earth was she going to wear, she thought as she picked out her clothes one by one and discarded them on the bed? Tops, skirts, jumpers flew out of her drawers. She could feel panic rising. There were only a few days to decide. She stood at the foot of the bed and flopped backwards, sighing. Dreaming of Danny, she thought she’d burst with joy as she pulled her teddy off her pillow and hugged him tight. ‘Teds,’ she said. ‘This is it. I’m all grown up now and I don’t need you any more.’ Teds flew up in the air and landed in the rubbish bin.
‘We need to get Pam to invite us into her house,’ Billy said.
‘Not yet, we’re gonna do that twat over that cut us up first,’ said Danny, gazing at Number 42. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and Billy knew his friend was working out a plan of action. When Danny had his mind set, nothing Billy could say or do would change it.
‘Whatever,’ Billy said nodding his head to the beat of the music.
Chapter 10
The coffin bore a solitary arrangement of white lilies. Inside were the remains of Grace Harvey and Winston. Donald Harvey and her close friends inched their way up the slope towards All Saints Church, Merton which stood on a hill in the heart of the village, just a short walk away from the river Heddle itself and next to the village green.
Waiting for them at the top of the hill was a tight circle of Grace’s neighbours and villagers. Taylor stood outside the entrance of the church and watched the tear-drenched face of a little girl break out in a nervous giggle as she walked the path between the gravestones. Overcome presumably by the stress of the funeral, she raised her trembling face, framed with a black Alice band, to an older lady at her side, as if in search of reassurance.
‘So I won’t weep any more, because you are now in a better place than you were before,’ said the vicar with much heartfelt regret and resignation at his beloved parishioner’s awful fate.
At the rear of the congregation Taylor stood looking up at the stained glass window designed by William Morris, the card next to her on a small lectern informed her. According to legend, said a mounted plaque above, the original foundations for the church were laid in a flat, easily accessible site but every morning were found transferred to the hill where the church exists today. Eventually the builders gave up building it in the planned flat location and built it on the hill.
The congregation stood in sombre fashion at the graveside. The sun was hot, there wasn’t a breath of air, birds sang and the atmosphere was tranquil. There was no traffic noise and it seemed to Taylor that the whole of mankind had stopped for that moment in time as she stood on the periphery of the mourners, looking in.
It was her duty at the funeral to see what she could glean from people who attended. Already she had noticed that Donald Harvey didn’t appear distressed, just agitated. He kept looking around him as though searching for someone in the crowd. Interestingly, there had been no words of anger from him or bitterness towards the party that did this to his mother. Only towards the man who he believed took her money. She needed to speak to him regarding her conversation with Brian Stevenson and she would when she could get him alone.
However, no sooner had Grace been lowered into the ground than she watched Donald Harvey sprint across the graveyard towards a solitary dark figure standing beneath a large oak tree. To the amazement of the mourners, within seconds he was raining blows on the man who he had firstly knocked to the ground.
Taylor hitched up her tight skirt and ran best she could across the grass in her stilettos, until her heel caught in the earth and she toppled face first to the
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