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Monkey Puzzle Cottage. It’s down the lane from the old blacksmith’s.’ She looked up at him over her shoulder, adding proudly, ‘We have the only two monkey puzzle trees in the village. Probably the only ones in this part of the county!’
    â€˜You don’t say.’
    She nodded solemnly, then ventured a smile.
    â€˜Have you been at this church long?’ he asked.
    â€˜Yes, years and years. Ever since before old Father Lyons, God rest his soul.’ She sighed. ‘Still, times change.’
    â€˜Pastor Lyons’ – he couldn’t bring himself to use the other term, and she didn’t seem to notice – ‘died some months ago, didn’t he?’
    â€˜Nearly a year ago. On Holy Saturday, while he was singing the Exsultet. I always thought it was such a lovely way to go.’ She sighed again. ‘Of course, it ruined the service.’
    Dexter frowned. What a very odd woman she was. ‘Was Pastor Lyons responsible for the renovations in the chapel?’
    â€˜Oh, yes. He had a legacy from old Mr Carter. Ten thousand pounds it was, and that was a lot of money back in the sixties!’ She paused, considering, then went on. ‘I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, mind you, but there were some who thought that the money should have been spent on other things.’
    â€˜Such as?’
    â€˜Oh, like a new roof. Or having the drainage done. We do have a bit of a problem with the damp, you see.’
    He thought of another question. ‘Those tables in the back – why is one looked after and the other one so untidy?’
    Miss Vernon laughed, an embarrassed deep titter. ‘Oh, you noticed that, did you? Old Mrs Humphries always used to do the flowers on that table, and keep it tidy. But after she died no one else volunteered to do it. We all have our own things to look after, you see?’ she added defensively, gesturing towards the Virgin.
    â€˜Well, I’ve kept you from your flowers long enough, Miss Vernon. Good day to you, and I’ll be seeing you again soon.’
    â€˜Oh, don’t go yet, Father Dexter.’ She scrambled to her feet awkwardly. ‘I just wanted to . . . well, that is, Miss Barnes and I very much hope that you will come and have tea with us at Monkey Puzzle Cottage just as soon as you’ve settled in.’
    â€˜Thank you. Mrs Dexter and I will be happy to call on you.’
    â€˜Oh! Mrs Dexter . . .’ She stared at him; St Mary’s had never had a married vicar, not within her memory anyway, and that went back a long time.
    â€˜Good afternoon, Miss Vernon.’ He turned and walked down the centre aisle; she watched his erect back with amazement.
    â€˜Wait till I tell Alice,’ she whispered, half to herself and half to the Blessed Virgin Mary.
    CHAPTER 4
    Â Â Â Â  All my delight is upon the saints, that are in the earth: and upon such as excel in virtue.
    Psalm 16.3
    â€˜Really, Gwen. I do think you might have told me.’ There were round spots of colour in Alice Barnes’s cheeks and her formidable bosom bounced up and down as she rubbed the cloth round and round in vigorous circles on the top of the small pedestal table.
    â€˜But, Alice, I did tell you,’ Gwen protested half-heartedly.
    â€˜Yes, but you didn’t tell me until today. This morning. Why didn’t you tell me you’d met our new priest yesterday, after it had happened?’ She looked critically at the highly polished mahogany, and, satisfied, replaced the little protective mat and the telephone (giving it a swift polish for good measure), finally restoring its chintz dust cover.
    Gwen gave the mantelpiece an ineffectual swipe with her duster, brushing the lustres which dangled from one of the vases so that they produced a faint, musical tinkle.
    â€˜Mind those vases,’ Alice said sharply. ‘And don’t knock over the Staffordshire!’ She moved briskly to the round