The Gospel Makers Read Online Free PDF

had done well. She knew he dreaded the evenings he was in charge.
    Should she mention the meeting when she saw the girls on Monday? Would they tell their friends about seeing her there? Not, of course, that it was anything shameful, but the Captain had warned them of the hostility. They must expect when they spoke of their beliefs. As he pointed out, Satan was always ready to mock and revile those who served the Lord.
    She removed her coat with a shiver, noticing as she did so that another hole had appeared in her jumper. Something else that must be attended to before she went to bed.
    She sat down with her tea at the rickety table and removed a bulky mass of exercise books from her satchel. With these essays to mark, she wouldn’t have time for her gospel tonight — it was nearly eleven already. She’d have to set the alarm an hour early and work on it in the morning.
    But what, she agonized, should she do about the girls?
    *
    When Hannah had gone and the front door was duly locked and bolted, Dilys stood for a moment, feeling the house fold itself peaceably about her. There was silence except for the soft shifting of the sitting-room fire as it subsided into ash.
    Hannah was right, she thought, Hassocks was full of character — well worn and comfortable. As the old house settled for the night, Dilys walked slowly up the stairs, her thoughts returning to the guests who would shortly be thrust upon her.
    Two spare bedrooms led off the L-shaped landing, each with its own bathroom, and on impulse she opened the door of the larger one where, presumably, the nanny would sleep.
    She gave it a swift mental check. Tissues on the dressing-table, clock radio by the bed, plenty of hangers in the wardrobe. This time next week, a stranger would be sleeping here. What would she be like?
    Suddenly, unaccountably, Dilys shivered, and as she retreated to the landing, remembered her mother’s macabre phrase, ‘Someone walked over my grave.’
    For heaven’s sake, she thought as she reached her own room. She’d be reading the teacups next! Her trouble, as she’d admitted to Hannah, was that she was altogether too self-absorbed. Well, one way or another, the next three weeks should shake her up a bit. With which glum reflection she began to prepare for bed.
     

 
    Chapter 3
     
    She was going to be late, Christina thought anxiously, easing the car out of the Heathrow sliproad on to the M4. The shuttle flight had been delayed and it had taken longer than usual to get out of the long-term car park. Which meant she wouldn’t have time to call at the office before her lunch appointment.
    Stephie would be back at school now; too bad this trip had coincided with her exeat , but it wasn’t every day one had the chance to meet the head of an American hotel chain — one who, moreover, though in the UK only for the weekend, had specifically requested a meeting. And it seemed to have gone well; she must put Belinda straight on to working out the quotations. If they could get in with Bryant Hotels, she thought jubilantly, they would be made.
    Her lunch appointment could also be fruitful. She’d not yet met Mr Derringer, who lived in the south of the county. He was staying at the King’s Head for a few days on business, which was where they were meeting. The hotel had just reopened after a year’s closure for refurbishment, which, according to the Broadshire News, had incorporated more en suite facilities and a leisure complex in the basement. A pity she couldn’t have landed that contract, Christina thought ruefully. Still, it would be interesting to see what they’d made of it.
    And here at last was the Shillingham junction. She turned thankfully off the motorway and twenty minutes later was in the hotel car park.
    As soon as she pushed her way through the swing doors she was disorientated. Gone was the solid, old-fashioned ambience which had been the hotel’s hallmark, the heavy chairs and thick velvet curtains. Instead, there were