braved a flood to get here.
âThereâs risk and risk. My father died when I was twelve, free climbing. Anyone with an ounce of sanity would have used ropes for that particular climb, but he went for the adrenaline high. He always did.â The sudden bitter anger in Jackâs voice left Cass in no doubt about his feelings for his father.
âIâm really sorry...â
He straightened up. âLong time ago. It was one of the things that made me want to go into frontline medicine. Going out on a limb to save a life has always seemed to me to be a much finer thing than doing it for kicks.â
âAnd of course we both calculate the risks we take pretty carefully.â Cass wondered whether Jack knew that the current calculation was all about him. She wanted to know more about the man who was responsible for Lynetteâs safety, to gauge his weaknesses.
He nodded. âYeah. Needs a cool head, not a hot one.â
Good answer. Cass turned to the door. âShall we go and see whether thereâs any more tea going?â
* * *
They collected their tea from an apparently unending supply in the kitchen, and Jack followed Cass as she dodged the few steps into the back of the church building. She led him along a maze of silent corridors and through a doorway, so small that they both had to duck to get through it.
They were in a closed porch. Arched wooden doors led through to the church on one side and on the other a second door was secured by heavy metal bolts. Tall, stone-framed windows, glazed in a diamond pattern of small pieces of glass, so old that they were almost opaque. A gargoyle, perched up in a corner, grinned down at them.
âI reckoned you might like to drink your tea in peace.â She reached up to switch on a battery-operated lantern, which hung from one of the stone scrolls which flanked the doorway. âMartinâs lent me this place for the duration. I come here to think.â
It looked more like somewhere to hide than think. Jack wondered why she should need such a place when she was clearly surrounded by family and friends here. She seemed so involved with her community, so trusted, and yet somehow she held herself apart from it.
All the same, for some reason sheâd let him in and it felt like too much of a privilege to question it. Jack took his jacket off and sat down on one of the stone benches that ran the length of the porch. She proffered a cushion, from a pile hidden away in an alcove in the corner, and he took it gratefully.
âYouâve made yourself at home here. Itâs warm as well. And oddly peaceful.â Jack looked around. Listening to the storm outside, rather than struggling against it, made the old walls seem like a safe cocoon.
âI like it. These stones are so thick itâs always the same temperature, winter or summer.â She laid her coat out on the bench and smoothed her half-dried hair behind her ears.
âMakes a good refuge.â He smiled, in an indication that she could either take the observation seriously or pass it off as a joke if she chose.
âYeah. You should ask Martin about that; heâs a bit of a history buff. Apparently there was an incident during the English Civil War when Cavaliers claimed refuge here. They camped out in this porch for weeks.â
Fair enough. So she didnât want to talk about it.
âIâd like you to stay with Lynette tonight, at the vicarage. Keep an eye on her.â
She nodded. âI donât have much choice. My house is a little way downriver from the bridge. It was partially flooded even before this afternoon.â
âIâm sorry to hear that.â
Cass leaned back, stretching her legs out in front of her. âIâve been expecting it for days and at least I had a chance to get everything upstairs, which is a lot more than some people have had. Itâs my own stupid fault, anyway.â
âSo youâre the one, are you?