Buried Fire Read Online Free PDF Page B

it."
    "There is some talk of taking the cross for examination at Chetton. Temporarily, I believe."
    "I bloody knew it!" Mr Cleever's face went red with fury, and Tom noticed with surprise that his fists were clenched. "I'm sorry, Reverend, but I've had run-ins with these people before. We'll all be kept out of the equation. There'll be months of study in some antiseptic backroom before we can get a look at it again. Absolutely bloody typical."
    "Really, I'm sure it won't be that bad," said Tom, though the thought of losing his glorious prize was hitting him hard. "If the worst comes to the worst, the bishop—"
    An abrupt and tumultuous ringing filled the church, jarring his senses and stunning him into silence. It took him a moment to realise the source, which was nestling against a rafter in the side aisle.
    "The fire alarm!" he said. "But there's no fire."
    "It must be faulty," said Mr Cleever, whose rage seemed to have been dispelled by the interruption. "You switch it off; I'll check the rest of the building."
    Tom did what he was told. The alarm refused to believe it had made a mistake at first, and kept starting up again whenever Tom switched it on. "Faulty battery," suggested Mr Cleever when he returned. He had found no sign of fire in the church.
    "It must have responded to the heat that's built up here this afternoon," suggested Tom. "First time it's happened."
    He tried switching it on again. This time, the alarm was silent.
    "Well," said Mr Cleever. "Another conundrum to ponder over. I won't keep you any longer, Reverend. I know you've an appointment."
    Tom looked at his watch grimly. "Yes, Mr Cleever, I really must dash. Come back and look again tomorrow, if you like."
    Mr Cleever was gazing at the cross again. He looked up with a vague expression, as if out of a dream.
    "Thank you, Reverend. I shall. Good evening to you."
    He walked out quickly, and Tom ran to check the windows of the vestry and offices. He was late for Sarah yet again, and Sarah would not be pleased. He wondered if Elizabeth had said why he was delayed. It was a good excuse, but his communication with Sarah hadn't been of the best recently, much to the amusement of her delinquent brothers.
    Oh well, thought the Reverend Tom, as he ran down the nave to the West Door, with his keys in one hand and his jacket in the other. Wait till she hears about the cross!

7
    Sarah sat in the half-darkness of the living room, gazing through the open windows out into the dusk. She had been still for so long that she no longer felt distinct from the grey-black patches of shape and shadow which surrounded her. Only her anxiety defined her and gave her form.
    Beyond the windows, dusk was closing in upon the hidden perils of the Wirrim; the holes, the deep workings, the unmarked crags and crevices, the treacherous high pastures which led by easy steps to sudden cliffs or falling-places. It was from one of these that Sarah had once seen a sheep's corpse, its red-white tatters hanging limply on a distant ledge.
    Never once had it occurred to her to doubt the intuition which had grown by imperceptible degrees throughout the afternoon. She remembered it too well; it was only ten months since the night when black ice on the moorland road had passed her brothers into her care, and two hundred miles away she had woken up crying.
    The fear had been stronger then, sharper; this was a more insidious dread, hazy and indefinite, but focused without doubt on Michael.
    Night was falling, Michael was missing and Tom still hadn't come.
    Outside, a burst of laughter from the Monkey and Marvel echoed derisively round the hollow room. Instinctively, she shuddered.
    Suddenly the light came on, making her blink and shake her head. Stephen had emerged from the kitchen where he had been making a sandwich.
    "Don't worry, sis," he said. "He'll be all right. Honestly."
    Sarah said nothing. Stephen planted himself nearby, and adopted another tack.
    "You'd better watch out. Tom'll break his