Up from the Grave

by Marilyn Leach

  Edsel Butz read the New Testament reading for the day from St. Matthew chapter seven verse three. His booming voice rang clear. “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye,” his barrel chest heaved as he gave the rest of the verse full throttle, “and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?”

  Berdie wondered if all the village hadn’t heard his reading. She noticed several people sat a little straighter in their pew after.

  Hugh’s sermon was a bit gentler than Edsel’s boom, but he was firm. Berdie heard Hugh say that one must take care of their own soul business, not making charges concerning someone else’s, when his voice seemed to become muffled and distant.

  The next thing Berdie heard was Mr. Castle setting to on the organ for the closing hymn of the service. She jerked her chin up and noticed the young woman next to her smiled widely, then whispered to her mother who eyed Berdie furtively. In fact, most the row where Berdie sat wore smiles, although a few had frowns.

  It was then Berdie became aware that she had taken a wee siesta at her husband’s expense. Oh, no, she thought. I can just imagine what they’ll be saying at the Copper Kettle.

  Berdie managed a quick look-about, trying to appear absolutely astute. It was clear that Jeff and Jamie were not the only congregants to sneak out early.

  As a matter of fact, Hugh, who stood at the door when the service was ended, sent off a less populated crowd than had arrived that morning.

  Berdie went directly home. The first thing she did when she got home was to enter the kitchen, put on her kitchen pinny, and make a strong pot of tea. Lillie joined her, Hugh following. Berdie poured a cuppa for all three of them.

  Lillie blew on the hot liquid. “Did you think your congregation was being spirited away today, Hugh?”

  “In truth, I appreciate that they showed at all.” He spooned sugar in his brew. “Priorities: they seem to have the stick by the right end.”

  “Yes.” Berdie rubbed a tired eye.

  “So, give me your thoughts on today’s sermon, Berdie.” Hugh grasped his cup and lifted it to his lips.

  Berdie pulled some sliced ham from the refrigerator, the smell of it delighting the nose.

  “Quite good,” Berdie said with a hint of hesitation.

  “Really?” Hugh’s eyebrow arched upward.

  “Oh.” Berdie paused. “You saw me then?”

  Hugh simply tipped his head.

  “Didn’t we all?” Lillie tittled.

  Berdie pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, Hugh, really. It’s just that call last night, at all hours, you know.”

  Hugh briefly shook his head in the negative.

  “What call?” Lillie snatched a bit of ham she quickly popped in her mouth.

  “Dead of night,” Berdie began. “A call, some fellow says he wants to have a clandestine meeting, very cloak and dagger.”

  Hugh placed four pieces of bread out on the counter.

  “What man?” Lillie said abruptly.

  Berdie handed the mustard jar to Lillie with a knife. She pointed to the bread. “If you would please.”

  “What man?” Lillie repeated and dipped the knife into the seasoned mustard jar.

  “I was awakened from a sound sleep. The conversation was clipped, something sounded familiar, but.” Berdie separated the ham slices. “He wants to meet behind the Pork and Barrel, can you imagine?” Berdie placed several thin slices of ham on the dressed bread.

  “Be careful, love,” Hugh cautioned. He cut a tomato into slices on a bread board.

  Berdie stopped short. “He said he had something to give me.”

  “How many people know you’re investigating things?” Lillie asked cautiously just as she put the last swathe of mustard on the top bread slices.

  “Who doesn’t know might be a more appropriate question,” Hugh injected. “This is a small village.”

  “Was it Wilkie Gordon?” Lillie rammed the words together rapidly.

  “Wilkie Gordon?” Hugh stopped slicing.

  Berdie placed ham on the remaining dressed bread. “Something’s going on with Wilkie, yes. But it wasn’t he who called.”

  Hugh put the knife down. “Why is Wilkie even in this conversation?”

  Berdie glanced at Lillie then proceeded. “Hugh, I know it’s difficult for you to think of Wilkie Gordon poorly. However, too many things are out of sort with him since the garden fête. Something’s off.”

  “Wilkie Gordon, hurt a child? Preposterous,” Hugh proclaimed. “That is what you’re suggesting?”

  “I’m simply saying something’s off.” Berdie lowered her voice. “At this point.”

  Lillie looked down and took a quick swallow of tea.

  Hugh shook his head. “No.” He plunged the knife through the tomato cutting a particularly thick piece.

  Lillie pointed her spreading knife towards Berdie, eyes big. “It was Colonel Preswood who called.”

  “Preswood.” Berdie cocked her head.

  Hugh chuckled. “Oh, ladies, you do reach.” He placed a tomato slice atop the ham. “Preswood.”

  “Well, they’ve got Venetian glass in their home, just the kind that was imbedded in that poor child,” Lillie bleated.

  “What?” Hugh stopped dressing the sandwich.

  “And there’s Flora Preswood’s chin, as well.”

  “Go back to the glass bit,” Hugh directed.

  Berdie chimed in. “There was a piece of eighteenth century Venetian glass stolen from the Preswood’s home, and from what I could gather, about the time of the child’s death.”

  “Really?” He placed the last tomato slice. “Now that could be something. You must get Goodnight to look into that.”

  Berdie began to top the tomatoes with lettuce.

  “Right? Goodnight? You are giving him aid and all?” Hugh checked with an eye to Berdie.

  Berdie glanced at Lillie. “I should think so.”

  Berdie opened the cooler bag while Lillie placed the top slices to complete the sandwiches. “Now, a little cling wrap and you’re off to cheer on the home team.”

  “That John Smith, vanishing from the tour, suddenly returning, it could be him.” Lillie continued the guessing game.

  “Where are my Scotch eggs?” Hugh opened the cupboard door, surveyed, and reached into the crowded space. “Now if anyone is suspect, I should think he would be.” He brought the shrink-wrapped goods to the counter. “Slightly erratic, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Would say.” Berdie wrapped the last sandwich with cling film. She placed the sandwiches in the cool bag.

  Hugh poured hot tea into the large awaiting flask while Berdie put the Scotch eggs in the cool bag aside the sandwiches then popped in a couple of apples.

  “Mathew Reese tried to ring the fellow when he first departed the tour you know,” Hugh rattled. “He rang up the number Mr. Smith gave as a home telephone, but Mathew got a pet store in Norwich. Can you imagine?”

  Lillie and Berdie came to a dead stop. Berdie inhaled. “What pet store?”

  “What?” Hugh stopped pouring the tea when he saw the interest generated by his comment.

  Berdie walked her index and third finger, with a scurrying motion up her arm. “Possible black market.”

  “Oh yes, well spotted.” Hugh nodded. “Hadn’t thought of that.” He continued to fill the flask. “You’ll have to ask Mathew about that.”

  “Or John Smith himself.” Berdie closed the cool bag. “When we find the spider-tender, we settle the bones account.”

  Hugh fastened the cup atop the flask. “You think the two are connected, and it’s that simple?”

  “Did I say simple? But yes, I think the two are connected.”

  “How? Just how does an attempt on the life of a beautiful and gracious well-to-do Italian noble relate to an English child’s death in the eighties?”

  “Ah, well, that’s the bit I have yet to work out.” Berdie wiped her hands across the yellow gingham kitchen pinny she wore.

  “
I should say that’s a very large bit.”

  She handed him the fastened cold bag. “I will work it out, you know.”

  Hugh placed a kiss on Berdie’s cheek. “Presumably.”

  “Have fun at the game.” Lillie smiled. “You certainly won’t starve. You’ve enough there to feed three people.”

  “Two actually.” Hugh walked to the kitchen door.

  “Who’s that?” Lillie was bright.

  Hugh looked at Berdie, than Lillie. “I’m meeting Loren,” he clipped and left the kitchen.

  Lillie’s visage took a turn. “Oh,” she said somberly. “No Dr. Chase to accompany then? Your husband had better hope Loren left his mobile at home. That’s the only guarantee they’ll see the game out.”

  “Are you still putting Loren off?” Berdie’s displeasure showed itself in her slight frown.

  “He stopped ringing me up.”

  “And who’s to blame for that?”

  Lillie took a taste of tea. Berdie could see moisture gathering in the corner of Lillie’s downcast eyes. “I’m not sure I haven’t lost him for good.” Lillie sniffed and took a deep breath. She shook her head appearing to make an attempt to dismiss the world around her. “Can we not talk about this?”

  “What would be best, Lillie, is to stop dallying about and ring up Loren to talk exactly about this. You’re practically sending Loren into Roz’s awaiting arms,” Berdie barked.

  “Oh, Berdie, you think I don’t know that?” Lillie barked back. “I don’t know where to begin.”

  “No I s’pose not.” Berdie suddenly became aware of how peckish she had become, the lack of sound sleep taking a toll. She took a slow drink of tea. “I’m all-in Lillie. What say we meet at the church an hour before evensong tonight? We can sort through all this bother then, together. Yeah?”

  Lillie shook her dark curls in an affirmative nod, the corner of her eye still glistening.

  Berdie pulled a fresh tissue from her pinny pocket and handed it to Lillie who dabbed at an escaped tear.

  “I’ve let him steal my heart you know.”

  “Yes, lovey, I know.”

  Lillie took Berdie’s hand and squeezed it. “And you get some good kip this afternoon.” She smiled bravely. “And sweet dreams with it.”

  Berdie nodded and returned the affectionate squeeze. “An hour before Evensong, then, fresh as an Easter daisy.”

  Within a moment, her best friend in the entire world departed for home while she made her way to the ample bed in the master bedroom.

  When Berdie arose, she was much more refreshed. After some hot soup, tea, and a fresh plum, she was ready to be among the living once again. In fact, she had promised Hugh to help with some simple data entry on the computer at church and decided to go over a bit early to work on it. She would make quick work of it and be ready to spend undistracted time with Lillie.

  When she entered the sacristy, she left the door half open so she could hear Lillie enter. The data entry was a snap, and Berdie was happy she could help Hugh. So much of her time recently was spent investigating.

  Just a little over half the work completed, Berdie heard the church door open. She glanced at the time on the computer.

  “She’s rather early.”

  Berdie closed the file and took a deep inhale. She must be in the appropriate state of mind to let go of an unfinished task to take up another. She exhaled slowly. Yes, ready, indeed.

  She arose and entered the lowly lit sanctuary where sunlight from the windows began to cast afternoon shadows across the peaceful edifice.

  “Oh.” Berdie could not suppress her surprise. It wasn’t Lillie at all. Of all people, Berdie thought. Ready for Lillie, yes, but ready for this?

  “Is your husband in?”

  “No, no he’s out at the moment.”

  Dr. Roz Chase shifted her weight.

  And if I have my way, my husband will be out as long as you are present. Berdie found herself having to work at courtesy.

  The grey business suit the doctor wore paled her some and was a bit too big. Berdie decided the cut of it did not show off the woman’s new features very well. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun at the back of her head making her face contours somewhat harsh. And not a gold necklace in sight.

  Roz fumbled an unlit cigarette in her fingers then jammed it in the pocket of her suit coat.

  “At the game, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Loren didn’t tell me with whom he was going.”

  “No. I see.”

  She’s checking to see if Loren went with Hugh as opposed to Lillie. Well, thank heavens he did. Berdie’s lips went tight. She just wanted Roz to go far away and quickly, but Dr. Chase didn’t seem eager to depart.

  The woman shifted her weight again. “She doesn’t deserve him you know.”

  Berdie blinked. “Sorry?”

  The woman stepped closer to Berdie. She looked at the stone church floor then reared her face up so that her bronze-colored eyes pierced hard into Berdie’s face. Facial enhancing aside, the hardness of a life that daily mingles with the worst part of humanity’s doings could not be erased from the doctor’s visage.

  “I tried it on with him you know,” Roz said coarsely. “And I could sense him beginning to yield. Does that shock you?”

  Berdie didn’t flinch. “Loren’s a handsome man, and I dare say you’re a needy woman.”

  With those words, Dr. Chase took hold of a pew. It was as if her strength couldn’t hold her, as if the truth of Berdie’s words had just punched her in the stomach and rendered her weak. She sat down, head low.

  There was a part of Berdie that wanted to let Roz sink in her apparent weakness. Berdie flashed back to the railway station with Roz running her manicured fingernail down her lovely neck and smiling at Hugh.

  Remove the plank from your own eye. Edsel’s New Testament reading sounded in Berdie’s head. It was then the plank in Berdie’s own eye hit her over the head. Bonk. Ah, jealousy was indeed an ugly thing. Perfect proportions and a redesigned face were too easily cast-off because of simple envy.

  Now, the better part of Berdie, the redeemed Berdie, could see before her the real woman. Right proportions or not, Roz was very much at a loss. Berdie purposed to turn away from that insipid green that had blinded her so easily.

  She seated herself on the pew directly in front of the visitor and turned to look into Dr. Chase’s face.

  Roz lifted her head. “But he didn’t.” She paused. “Yield, that is.”

  “Oh, he yielded, Roz,” Berdie said smoothly. “It just wasn’t to your charms; it was to a still, small voice inside.”

  Roz’s eyes grew moist, but she raised her chin as if impervious to any sense of vulnerability. “He mumbled something about how attractive I was, how cherished I was as his dear friend, and that he loved someone else.”

  Berdie nodded. “Roz, if I may, why the romantic pursuit of someone you’ve known as a friend?”

  Dr. Chase swallowed and inhaled deeply. “Gerard became tired of eating dinner alone, you know. It comes part and parcel with my career. He left.” She tilted her head. “But now, Loren and I share the same vocation, and along with a little personal redesigning”—she ran a hand across her new waistline—“I thought; now there’s a promise.”

  Berdie couched her words with a certain comforting tone. “Roz, as difficult as it is right now, Loren did what he knew to be right and actually spared you a great deal of deep heartache. That proves he’s fond of you.”

  Roz crossed her arms. “Really?”

  “You’re a bright woman. You know there’s always a certain element of risk when you maneuver yourself into someone’s life, in this case Loren’s.”

  Roz took another deep inhale. “Yes.”

  Berdie leaned closer. “We can’t make them fall in love with us, no matter how attractive, can we?”

  Dr. Chase’s drooping shoulders straightened a bit. A stern jaw was all she offered. Then she lifted her well-shaped br
ows as if tossing off the entire conversation. “Anyway, I’ve been called in on an active investigation in London.”

  “Are you finished here?”

  “If you mean is my work done, no, it isn’t. The only reason this case had my services was because I made it a certain priority and now it’s not.” The woman gave a pasted half-grin. “I’ve been told you have excellent investigative skills, you take up the work.” Dr. Chase stood. She turned her body and took rapid steps to the church entrance.

  “But I’m not a pathologist,” Berdie called after the departing woman.

  Roz opened the door then paused. She turned to run her eyes across the quiet nave. “I can’t remember the last time I was in a church. Something almost reassuring about it.” Dr. Roz Chase disappeared behind the closed door.

  “Dr. Chase,” Berdie appealed. All she heard were her own words bouncing across the stone walls.

  “Lillie.” Berdie realized there was a good possibility the two women might meet in the going and coming. “Oh my, where’s my whistle and zebra shirt?”

  Berdie returned her body to sitting position on the pew. “Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing if they met.”

  True, Roz’s visit had caught Berdie by surprise, but overall, something positive came of it. She had discovered the plank in her eye, and Roz, hopefully, was a step closer to finding her way. Yes. She decided if she heard something like spatting cats and saw bits of hair flying by the church window, then she would search it out. Otherwise, let it be.

  To continue her data entry work, that was her task at hand. She moved to the sacristy, but when she had only worked five more minutes, the sound of the opening church door reached her ears.

  “Lillie. Lord may she be of good humor.” Berdie turned on her heel to see once again it wasn’t her dear friend. It was Hugh. And Loren accompanied him.

  “We won,” Hugh announced to Berdie and, it seemed, to anyone within a mile.

  “Did we?” Berdie grinned.

  “Jeff and Jamie both played brilliantly, didn’t they Loren?”

  “Brilliantly indeed,” Loren had a zip in his words. “I must say that Jamie Donovan is a topnotch striker.”