The Mills of God Read Online Free

don’t you go to places like that?’
    â€˜I’m a modern vicar. I’ll go anywhere.’
    Olivia laughed again. ‘Six o’clock then. Goodbye.’
    Nick put the phone down and wondered who the owner of such a delightful laugh could possibly be. He decided to tackle another box after snatching a sandwich and a cup of coffee and, in fact, was halfway through it when there was a ring at the front door. He opened it to find Mavis Cox standing there balancing a large cake on a plate.
    â€˜Oh Father Nick, so glad to have caught you in. I’ve come to help.’
    â€˜Thank you, but . . .’
    But she had marched past him straight into the kitchen.
    â€˜I’ve brought you a cake for your tea. Shall we get this room sorted out? I always think the kitchen is the worst job of all.’
    And she had her coat off and her arms in a box before Nick could utter a word. He had to admit, though, that she was a terrific worker. Drawers were being opened and kitchen implements placed within them and what tins he had brought were put in a cupboard over the cooker.
    He smiled at her. ‘Shall we not talk parish business until tomorrow?’
    â€˜Not if you don’t wish it, Father Nick.’
    â€˜I’d rather you told me something about the village. About the people who live here.’
    â€˜Well, I don’t like to gossip but they’re a very mixed bunch as you can imagine. They’re the old villagers, the people born and bred here, though they’re not so many of them left.’
    â€˜I suppose commuters have taken their place.’
    â€˜And you’d suppose right, Vicar. There are masses of those here – the gin and tonic set I call them.’
    Her small eyes had a malicious gleam in them momentarily.
    â€˜And who else do we have?’
    â€˜The arty crowd and the horsey crowd. Like to live in the heart of the country, or at least be seen to do so.’
    â€˜So who’s in the horsey crowd?’
    â€˜Oh, several of them. There’s a livery stable out towards Speckled Wood. Owned by one Cheryl Hamilton-Harty. She rides up and down the High Street on a huge great stallion.’ Mavis muttered something like, ‘Looking for one I shouldn’t wonder.’
    Nick thought this extremely naughty from one of his churchwardens but pretended he hadn’t heard it and continued to unpack his box.
    â€˜And tell me about the arty crowd.’
    â€˜Well, you’ve already met one, my other half – in the churchwarden sense only. I lost my husband some while ago.’
    Mavis looked downcast and Nick felt obliged to say, ‘I’m sorry.’
    She sniffed a bit but answered bravely, ‘But life goes on. He’s gone to a better place is how I look at it.’
    â€˜Yes, indeed.’
    â€˜Well I was saying, Richard Culpepper calls himself an actor but gets precious little work. He teaches drama at evening classes and has one or two private pupils to make ends meet. But it’s his wife who’s the moneyed one, believe me.’
    â€˜And what does she do?’
    â€˜Retired now. But used to be in films, I believe.’
    â€˜Roseanna, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Yes. Then there’s Gerrard Riddell. He’s a costume designer and is awfully handy with his needle.’
    She gave Nick a sly glance and he couldn’t help but grin.
    â€˜And Miss Olivia Beauchamp, of course.’
    Nick knew at once by the tone of Mavis Cox’s voice that she was jealous of the lady in question.
    â€˜Tell me about her,’ he said from deep within a box.
    â€˜She lives in London a lot of the time. She’s a violinist – professional, I mean. Anway, she has a weekend cottage here which used to belong to her parents. The village doesn’t like weekenders but she’s forgiven because she was brought up here.’
    â€˜I see. And what about Ceinwen Carruthers?’
    Mavis gave an audible snort.