Time's Legacy by Barbara Erskine Page B

in the evening sun at the end of its muddy lane. Leaving her car in the layby near the gate on her way back to her flat that evening, Abi threaded her way through the deserted churchyard past gravestones yet again sprayed with red swastikas. She found herself thinking suddenly about her mother’s old piece of crystal as she glanced at the piles of crushed lager cans that had been lobbed at the stones, the broken bottles and empty syringes lying in the grass. Her parents’ house might as well be on a different planet. She sighed sadly, glancing up at the windows, heavily wired to stop them being broken, and breathed a quiet prayer. How often had she cleared up the mess in the last couple of months, her hands heavily gloved, a huge binbag beside her? And every time it had happened again. Would changing the use of the church save it from this? Make the people care? Sadly she doubted it.
    Unlocking the door, she pushed it open and pocketed the key. Inside she was greeted by an overwhelming, almost audible, silence. It felt more intense than usual, she realised; more profound. Pushing the door closed behind her she listened to the heavy clunk as the latch dropped into place before walking softly up the aisle to stand for a moment in the semi-darkness in front of the altar. The tough walls, the lancet windows with their ancient stained glass, the breath of long-forgotten incense which seemed to hang in the air, all brought an atmosphere of deep peace to the old church. She loved it like this when she was here alone but this would probably be the last time. Her spell as pretend priest-in-charge was over. Tomorrow, if all went according to plan, Kieran was coming up here with a group of supporters from St John’s to clear up the churchyard and move all the old pews out of the nave. She shook her head, trying not to feel sad. They were going to change the church into a socialising space, bringing in toys and drawing things for the small children; coffee and mugs for the mums. That was right. That was how it should be. They hoped it would encourage people to care for the place, to love it and look after it. It would bring in the young mothers, reinforce a community feeling, introduce them to each other and to the church. She would probably be the only one to mourn the silence and the sanctity. Another thought struck her and she sighed. Tomorrow, thanks to her avoidance skills, would be the first time she had seen Kieran since his frenetic proposal that she move back into the Rectory. She frowned. It was his last chance to prove he could behave normally towards her. There would be a lot of other people here. She would be safe.
    She looked up at the cross on the wall behind the altar below the east window. It was carved and old and didn’t look worth stealing so it had been left alone. ‘This is what you wanted, isn’t it?’ she whispered. ‘We are doing the right thing here? And it is right for me to try and stay?’
    A light came on behind her in the body of the church and she turned round nervously. It was a moment before she realised that it was a last ray of sunlight slanting low through the stained glass window as the sun slipped down behind the trees, throwing gently coloured patterns onto the flags at her feet. She caught her breath, staring at it, mesmerised as near her, suddenly, someone started to sing.
‘Love divine, all loves excelling,
Joy of heaven, to earth come down’
    Abi peered towards the empty choir stalls, trying to see into the shadows as the pure, breathy voice sang on, the words of the hymn barely audible. She had seen no-one there when she had come in.
    ‘Hello?’ Abi moved away from the altar rail and slowly walked down towards the choir stalls. ‘Who’s there?’ She put her hand up, shading her eyes against the sun.
    The singing stopped abruptly.
    ‘Please, don’t stop,’ Abi called out. ‘That was beautiful.’
    She could sense someone listening. ‘Where are you? I can’t see you.’ As