“I am, yes.”
Did I really have the cheek to ask him to take me to The Magpie? What if Jack had told him I was barred from going there?
Instead, I found myself saying, “With all that’s happened, I was thinking I might like to speak to Father Kelly. If you’re not in too much of a rush ...”
I trailed off as he nodded. “I’ll take you. I saw him out on the grounds on my way here.”
Father Kelly could quite often be seen among the gravestones at St. Gomonda. So often that Mum had believed he spoke to spirits.
The constable took his watch from his pocket. “I believe it’s a while yet until the tearoom opens. Do you think Mrs. Moyle would be willing to run you home?”
“I’m sure she would, sir.” I knew Mrs. Moyle would be glad to hear I’d spoken with the priest. And I’d have my chance to give her the note for Mr. Carew—which was of course the real reason I wished to go to the village.
My hand went to my hip, steadying the knife in my pocket as the constable helped me up to the gig. A few minutes later we rolled to a stop in front of St. Gomonda, and he bade me good day.
The parish church was pretty as a picture, built of weathered moorstone and surrounded by graves from as far back as 1700—likely older ones, too, whose stones you couldn’t read. Mum and Da were buried here, and though I’d only used the church as an excuse for coming to town, I felt a sudden desire to visit them.
After passing the church entrance and bell tower, I made my way to the back of the yard, where the simpler folk were buried in the hazel grove. There were more yellow and orange leaves than green now, and nut husks littered the root-studded, rocky ground.
I soon found the plain wooden crosses marking their graves, low mounds covered over with grasses and leaves.
Tears welled, and my voice broke as I spoke to Mum, who had been so much in my thoughts over the last week. “I wish you were here to help me talk to Jack. And to teach me about the tea leaves.”
A hazelnut dropped, landing in my hair. I glanced up to see a red squirrel, with its funny ear tufts and fluffy tail, skittering along a branch. Da once said there were hardly any red squirrels left, and it was lucky to see one.Heaven knows I need it.
Often when I came here, I found myself wondering whether I’d ever have anyone besides Jack in my life. Whether I’d ever marry. After a couple of years working at The Magpie, I wasn’t sure where I belonged anymore. When I thought of the change from keeping house for my brother the clay miner to my husband the clay miner, it seemed like hardly any change at all.
Maybe it felt different when you were a wife. Was it possible to find a man suited to my station in life who wouldn’t forbid me from working outside our home, or view my books as idleness? Even if it was, babes followed marriage, and they would leave no time for such things.
Hearing leaves rustling, I turned to find Father Kelly approaching in his black coat and shovel hat.
“Mina,” he said, looking relieved, “how happy it makes me to see you recovered from your ordeal.” He was a handsome man with crinkles about the eyes, his collar bright against dark-brown skin, and a neat beard that showed traces of white.
“Good day, Father,” I said with a bow of my head. “I want to thank you for your help that day.”
“I’m grateful I was nearby and able to give it.” He smiled. “It’s good to see you at church again.”
My cheeks warmed. “I suppose it has been some weeks since I came to service.”
“And more since your brother came. Yet just yesterday he, too, made an appearance. Our present troubles seem to be returning many in the parish to God.”
Jack had been to church after all! “He told me he had been here,” I said. “I confess I didn’t believe him. I suppose he came to visit our parents, too?”
Father Kelly clasped his hands in front of him. “I found him in the nave praying for your recovery, and we had some conversation.”
“He ...?” I stared.Prayingfor me? “Forgive me, Father, but that doesn’t sound much like Jack.”
The priest’s expression was gentle. “He was very worried about you, Mina. But I imagine like most people right now, he also came for reassurances we don’t have a devil among us.”
This sounded more like it. “You told him we don’t?”
By his look, I knew he thought that I, too, was hoping to be reassured. What I really hoped was that he’d talked some sense into Jack.
“It’s hard to deny that a man who could do such things does seem a kind of devil,” he said. “But I urged your brother to trust the constable and his men, and to pray for God to use them as his instruments.”
This gave me some relief, though I had my doubts as to whether the priest’s advice would be heeded. I imagined Jack had stopped believing in God granting prayers the first day Da had taken him to the mines. I thought I knew what he’d really come here about.
“I suppose he asked if you knew any old stories about Roche Rock.” I couldn’t bring myself to name Mr. Tregarrick.
