Page 101 of Storm of Bells
‘Err…yes, I suppose so. In a way.’
She shook her venerable old head. ‘Well, youjust remember, we’re on your side. Any time you need help, you letme know.’
I couldn’t help but grin. Well, well. Thiswas shaping up nicely so far. I liked my new home already. Thepeople here apparently had excellent judgement.
‘You’re friends with the vicar, you said?’ Ienquired.
‘Oh yes. I’ve known him ever since he was aboy.’ The old lady cackled. ‘It does provide some amusement onSundays when I watch little Bertie Evans who I used to chase roundmy garden with a broom for pinching apples from my trees preachabout Christian values.’
I grinned. I liked this lady. ‘How would youlike to introduce me to him? I have a few things to discuss inregard to my wedding, anyway, and I’d like to meet him before westart planning the ceremony.’
The old lady beamed as if she’d just beenoffered the chance to introduce the Queen of England to herfavourite nephew. Latching on to my arm with surprising force, shebeamed up at me.
‘Why, of course! I’d be delighted to. Let’sgo to the church right now, shall we? The vicar usually tends thechurch garden around this time.’
And, helpless as a kitten, I was draggedtowards the tower of the church sticking out from among the modestvillage houses. It wasn’t long before the church itself came intosight and, in front of it, the vicar, tending to a little patch ofbeautiful roses.
‘Hello? Hello, Vicar?’ My captor wavedenergetically with one arm, while keeping me firmly imprisoned withthe other. ‘I’ve brought someone very special to see you!’
‘Oh?’ The vicar glanced up with a slightlynervous expression. He was a young man still, and to judge by thelook in his eyes as he glanced at the old lady, he very wellremembered a certain broom. Relief flooded his face when he sawthat what the old lady was bringing today was by no means asbristly. ‘Who is the young lady, Mrs Ritson? A relative ofyours?’
‘Oh no.’ The spindly old lady—MrsRitson—puffed up her triple woollen undershirts for lack of achest. ‘It’s the young lady what’s going to marry the Lord up inthe manner, that’s what! What’s your name again, dearie?’
‘Linton.’ Freeing myself from her grip, Istepped towards the vicar and curtsied. ‘Miss Lillian Linton.’
‘Oh.’ Eyes widening, the vicar hurriedlydropped his garden shears. ‘I’m so sorry! Please excuse myrudeness.’ He bowed to me, deeply. But the glance he shot at MrsRitson made me think he might be more worried about offending thebroom than offending the lord of the manor. I couldn’t help a grinfrom spreading over my face. ‘Welcome. Welcome to our littlevillage.’
‘Thank you. And what a beautiful village itis.’ Leaning forward, I sniffed the roses in his little garden.Yes, I was a city girl, but I had wandered through enough parks inmy life to appreciate a bit of greenery here and there. ‘Yourgarden is particularly lovely.’
‘You like roses, do you?’ the vicar asked,his face lighting up.
‘Oh yes.’ I took another sniff, giving him aninnocent smile. ‘My favourite one is Rosa AnnoyingaBodyguarda.’
From behind me, I heard something thatsounded like a cross between the croak of an indignant bullfrog andthe groan of a steam engine, ready to explode. Without bothering toturn around, my smile widened, and I waved over my shoulder.
‘Ah. Karim. So you’ve finally caught up withme, have you? You really are getting slow in your old age.’ Iturned to see Karim standing a few feet away, looking perfectly inhis prime and, to judge by his expression, ready to eviscerate andkill. ‘Come and join us. The vicar and I were having such aninvigorating conversation about botany.’
Beside me, the vicar gave squeak. He and MrsRitson stared wide-eyed at the figure of Karim stepping around thecorner of the church. They both looked as if they were a lot moreinterested in escapology than botany right then and there.
‘I shall forgo that pleasure,’ Karim informedme, his face a bearded block of wood. But his eyes…they weresparking fire.
‘Err…’ Inconspicuously, the vicar glanced atthe sabre at Karim’s hip and tried to take a step behind me. ‘Whois this…gentleman?’
‘This is Karim. He works for my fiancé.’
‘Oh. Really?’ The vicar’s Adam’s applebobbed. ‘In what…capacity?’
Karim fixed him with a glare that could havemade much braver men wet themselves. ‘I remove undesirable things.Permanently.’
‘Oh. A removal man?’ The vicar brightened,looking somewhat relieved. ‘How interesting.’ Hurriedly, he turnedback to his little patch of roses, trying to banish the sight ofthe sabre from his universe. ‘So, Miss Linton—you said yourfavourite rose is named Rosa Annoyinga Bodyguarda, right?’
I turned to beam at him. ‘Yes, indeed.’
‘Hm…Strange. I haven’t heard of that onebefore.’
From somewhere behind me came a growl. Mysmile widened. ‘It doesn’t surprise me. It’s originally from Indiaand only blooms very rarely in this climate. But when it does…oh, Iguarantee you, you will never see petals that are its equal.’
‘How lovely! Do you think you could get meseed?’
