Page 50 of The Village of Lost and Found

‘How was the gin tasting?’ asked Uncle Frank.

‘It was an explosive evening,’ said Lucy, with a laugh.

She filled him on most of the details, leaving out the part about finding Tom in the office afterwards.

‘Good gracious,’ said Uncle Frank when she had told her story. ‘Well, you can’t deny that Del always makes things more interesting around here.’

As she parked the car in the tiny car park, Lucy realised that it had been a long time since she had been in church. Since her aunt’s funeral, in fact.

Uncle Frank was holding a bunch of sweet peas and their heady scent wafted through the air as they both walked up to Aunt Jane’s grave.

As Uncle Frank was still on his crutches, Lucy crouched down to take out the old flowers and replace them in the pot.

She straightened up and gave Uncle Frank’s arm a squeeze.

‘I miss her,’ he said simply after a short silence.

‘I know,’ said Lucy. ‘Me too.’

‘Summertime was always special with her,’ mused Uncle Frank.

‘I remember,’ replied Lucy. ‘It was her favourite time of the year.’

He patted her hand and they turned to make their slow walk up the short stony path. As they neared the tiny church, Lucy wondered whether she should send up a quick prayer for the newspaper, just in case. After all, it couldn’t do any harm.

It was a small ancient church, pretty even in the gloom and drizzle that morning. The weather had turned overnight and was warm but definitely damp.

The heavy oak door was open so Lucy walked inside. She was instantly hit with that musty smell that all old churches have. Swiftly followed by the aroma of an arrangement of flowers nearby. Someone obviously took care to make sure there were fresh flowers in the church.

It wasn’t huge inside, but there were enough wooden pews for about eighty or so people.

‘Good morning, Frank!’ said a woman wearing a dog collar and the attire of a vicar. She had a jolly, cheerful face and demeanour as she headed up the aisle towards them.

‘Good morning, Vicar,’ said Uncle Frank. ‘Let me introduce you to my niece, Lucy.’

‘How marvellous to meet you at last, my dear. Your uncle talks of nothing else!’ The vicar stuck out her hand. ‘I’m Glenda. Now, why don’t you two take a pew before the rush? The congregation, all two- and four-legged ones, will be here soon.’

Lucy let herself be led by Uncle Frank, who chose a pew halfway towards the front.

‘I find this one to be least draughty,’ he said, as they sat down.

Lucy watched as Glenda went over to a lady who was standing nearby, looking boot-faced. She wore an apron and was presumably the cleaner.

‘Courage, Mrs Matthews!’ boomed Glenda. ‘It was always going to be a slim chance of us holding it in the meadow weather-wise. We’ll just have to get the carpets cleaned afterwards if there’s any nervous bladders in our hairy parishioners.’

Lucy and Uncle Frank exchanged a smile.

Slowly the congregation arrived. Some people had dogs on leads. Some held their cats, some of whom were struggling to be held on to, others carried pet baskets. There were parrots in cages. Rabbits. Hamsters and guinea pigs. At the church door, which had been left open, there were even some riders stood next to their horses.

Lucy couldn’t believe so many local people attended the church. But as she looked around she realised that she couldn’t see Henry and his dog unfortunately.

As the service started, the noise was at a crescendo and it was utter chaos. Glenda had to shout to be heard above the woofing, mewling and noise that echoed around the church. Next to Glenda was her own dog Noah, who apparently was also leading the service.

They had just all stood up to sing ‘Morning Has Broken’ when Molly appeared in the pew next to Lucy.

‘Hi,’ she whispered.

‘I thought you weren’t going to make it,’ whispered Lucy.