Chapter 7

The day of the funeral was overcast but the rain held off. I made good time in my trusty little powder-pink Nissan and arrived comfortably before the scheduled start of the service. I found a safe place to park near St Peter’s church and looked around. There was no sign of Prudence’s blue Mazda sports car but it was still early.

I went inside the church. The villagers had done Emily proud: it was beautifully decked out and overflowing with flowers. Janice saw me arrive and interrupted her preparations to come and greet me.

“Hello Reverend, I’m glad to see you’re still here,” I said.

“God moves in mysterious ways, Father O’Malley,” Janice replied. “The journalists were a nightmare, prompting the villagers to speculate about local paedophile rings, swinging and Satanic sacrifices in the woods at night. When they didn’t get any takers they tried to drive a wedge between me and the villagers because of my gender. That backfired spectacularly: the whole village rallied round in my support. Attendances are now back to what they should be and I’m fully accepted here.”

“I’m glad you’re doing well, but I suppose the journalists will be swarming around again today.”

“No, the whole village has kept the date of the funeral strictly secret. Obviously you’re an exception. And so is a young lad representing the Coombe Ottery Advertiser. In return for a promise to be discreet, he’s getting an exclusive which he can syndicate to the national newspapers. He’s taken photographs of the church and he’s giving me copies. It’s never been so beautifully decked out.”

I looked round the church and spotted the reporter. It was the one who had alerted me to the Poacher’s Arms as a source of local information. It was fortunate that he didn’t seem to have recognised me because I didn’t want to be pressed for an interview.

“I’ve drawn up what I think is an appropriate running order,” continued Janice, “but my offer to let you co-officiate is still open.”

“Thank you but no.”

“In that case I’m going to finish up the preparations,” she said, taking her leave and disappearing into a private room.

I watched as the little church filled up, but still couldn’t see any sign of Prudence. Several of the congregation, including Old Joe and Dennis and his crew, came over to greet me. Eventually the place was packed out, with some of the congregation having to stand at the back.

Janice conducted a very fitting service and I could tell the whole congregation was moved. I had no doubt she would have earned the approval of the parishioners even without the journalists’ intervention.

After the service about half the congregation left while the rest of us followed the pitifully small coffin out to the grave site. I looked around and sighed with relief when I didn’t see the reporter.

Janice gave a blessing then called me over. “I’m sure most of you remember Father O’Malley,” she said. “I’m delighted he could make it here today and I’m pleased to honour his wishes by letting him offer a prayer as Emily Vickers’s coffin is lowered into the grave.”

As the coffin was lowered, I prayed to God for Emily’s soul, asking Him to cherish and protect it as He helped her into the afterlife. There was a loud chorus of ‘Amen’ as the coffin reached the bottom.

For an instant the clouds broke and a shaft of sunlight seemed to highlight Emily’s coffin. The light intensified and became white, and I realised I had somehow been dragged into my fugue state.

“Seamus, you came!” called out Emily.

“Of course I came. I never got a chance to say goodbye.”

“I was allowed to come back specially for that.”

That meant Emily had already experienced the afterlife. “What’s it like there?” I asked.

There was a long pause, as though Emily was asking advice, then she giggled. “You’re naughty,” she said. “You know I’m not allowed to tell you. What I can say is that I’m happy, and that you’re being watched over from high places.”

“I’m glad you’re happy, you deserve it.”

“I’d better go now Seamus. Goodbye, and thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Goodbye Emily. It was an honour and a pleasure to spend time with you. You’re a very special person.”

Emily giggled again, then the white light faded away.

When I retuned my senses to the corporeal world, most of the mourners had left. I was surprised I was still standing. Normally to reach my fugue state I have to sit or lie. My knees must have locked, like those of roosting birds.

“I recognise that look,” said a familiar voice from the side. “You were talking to Emily, weren’t you?”

“Yes. She’s happy now.” I turned to face the speaker and felt a mixed flood of emotions. “Hello Prudence. And congratulations.” I knew it couldn’t be mine. Although I couldn’t remember her exact words, I was pretty sure Prudence had said she was protected. Besides, she would have told me if it was mine, wouldn’t she? That meant she’d found someone new as soon as we’d left Coombe Ottery, and I felt a stab of jealousy.

She rubbed her baby bump. “Thank you.” She hesitated, as though unsure how much to tell me. “I’m happy. And the father’s a good man.”

I tamped down on the jealousy. Despite our failed marriage, Anne and I had raised a beautiful, intelligent daughter to be proud of. I had no right to be jealous of others wanting the same privilege.

“I’m sorry I missed the service,” Prudence continued. “Morning sickness isn’t supposed to be a problem at this stage but I’m still getting it. I couldn’t risk sitting in the church. Janice understands, don’t you?”

“Oh, I suggested it,” said Janice. “I knew you’d want to be here at the graveside to see Father O’Malley pray for Emily. You have to understand I’m still sceptical about exorcisms, but there was something unearthly about the sun coming out just as the coffin was lowered.”