Secret Of The Manor Read Online Free PDF Page A

come here, but I assist the reverend in Stow, a few miles away.”
    Warren relaxed a little. “My apologies again, though, for intruding. You have an intriguing church. How come there’re no roads to it?”
    “There is a road, at least a relatively close one. The path from it to here is a gnat’s knacker wide. Before my time, there used to be a track to the church for carriages, too, but it’s not been used for years. Besides, my luv, Little Walmsley here is attached to the manor. I look after him and keep him out a trouble. Only manor people come here now, and they walk.”
    “You speak as though the church were a person.”
    The vicar studied him for a few seconds and tilted her head. “Technically, I know it isn’t. Our church is a place of worship, a place where our holy father is spoken to. But we imagine many inanimate objects to have personalities. This place has a personality, and since most believe God is a man, I call Little Walmsley ‘him’.”
    “You haven’t given him a full name, then?” Warren’s curiosity showed in his voice.
    The vicar looked around before answering, “No. Not yet. I’ve thought of several over the years, but none of them seemed right. If I gave Little Walmsley a man’s name, it would be like calling God ‘Walter’. And being on a first-name basis with God, for me, isn’t right. Does that make sense?”
    Warren smiled at the quirky lady. “In a weird sort of way, yes.”
    Despite Vicar Carol’s amiable nature, Warren felt the need to escape. He wasn’t against religion. He wasn’t for it, either. He was merely uncomfortable with it. He was also rattled by earlier events and didn’t have the mindset to partake in a full-fledged conversation with a member of the clergy. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Vicar, but I must get Argo back. I promised Carl I’d be back for lunch.”
    “Is that your boyfriend?”
    “What? Sorry, pardon?” Warren’s pitch raised several notches.
    “Carl. You said you needed to be back for lunch. Only the way you spoke, I thought Carl might be your boyfriend.” Seeing the shock on Warren’s face, Vicar Carol gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my silly tongue. My apologies; it could be short for Carla, too. You never know in today’s society, what with boys having girls’ names and vice versa, and
alternative
relationships becoming more popular.”
    To stop the vicar’s rambling, Warren interjected, “Carl’s a man at the stables where my horse, Argo, lives.”
    “Oh, that Carl! Well, you get going then, young man—he can be a bit grumpy when given cause. And feel free to visit whenever you want. The gate’s always open, even if the church isn’t. Years ago the church used to be open all the time. But since some misguided souls broke in, it’s locked unless I’m here. Anyhow, I’m rambling. Next time I’ll show you around.”
    “Thank you, Vicar. Pleased to meet you.” Warren shook the vicar’s hand, mounted quickly, and headed down the path. Almost out of sight, he briefly looked back. He saw Vicar Carol emerge from behind the holly tree where the blank headstone was and walk towards the church. He thought that if he visited again he’d prefer to do it at the time of day when she was least likely to be around.
    Well into his journey back, Warren fished the phone out of his pocket and called Carl, who eventually picked up. “Hack-It Stables,” he answered tersely.
    “Kids sending you ‘round the bend already?” Warren mused. At weekends, there were often hordes of children around the stables.
    “What do you think? Bloody ankle-biters.”
    “I take it you’re in the house, then?”
    “I am now. Look, have you got somewhere you can tie up Argo instead of coming back here? With the way this lot are runnin’ about, he’ll kick one of the little bleeders. I might just tickle his stomach a bit to encourage him to do it, too.”
    Warren smiled. Neither he nor Carl was child-friendly. Both preferred horses,