Jones - The Bells of Little Woodford

Also by Catherine Jones, writing as Fiona Field

Soldiers Wives

Soldiers Daughters

Civvy Street

Little Woodford: The Secrets of a Small Town

www.headofzeus.com

First published in the UK in 2019 by Head of Zeus Ltd

Copyright Catherine Jones, 2019

The moral right of Catherine Jones to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

9 7 5 3 1 2 4 6 8

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN (HB): 9781784979829

ISBN (E): 9781784979812

Typeset by Divaddict Publishing Solutions Ltd.

Printed and bound in Great Britain by
CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon CR0 4YY

Head of Zeus Ltd

First Floor East
58 Hardwick Street
London EC1R 4RG

WWW.HEADOFZEUS.COM

To Ian, who still hasnt told me to go and
get a proper job .

On the first Sunday in September Heather Simmonds, the vicars wife, headed down the path from her home and towards the church for matins. The sky above the squat Norman church tower was speedwell blue, dotted with a flock of puffy clouds. The leaves on the trees in the churchyard had lost the vibrant shade of green of a couple of months earlier and now some had a distinctly yellow tinge. Not long till autumn sets in, thought Heather. The air was filled with the joyous sound of the ring of six bells calling the townsfolk to prayer. Bing-bong-bing-bong-bing-dong, bing-bong-bing-bong-bing-dong, as the bells rang down the scale from the treble to the tenor again and again. Every few minutes the order of notes changed the ringers weaving them into intricate patterns like a tweed fabric; only a limited number of colours to work with but producing a beautiful finished product nonetheless. Heather stopped beside an ancient yew to enjoy the sight and sound.

Glorious, isnt it? It was her best friend, Olivia Laithwaite, who, as always, was immaculately turned out in a crisply ironed blouse, blazer and smart pleated skirt.

Beside her Heather felt a tad dowdy, dressed as she was in an elderly frock and distinctly threadbare cardy, but it was the best she could do given Brians income. She ignored her feelings and said, cheerily, Makes you glad to be alive.

Olivia smiled and nodded. But we cant stand out here all day. She glanced at the church clock on the tower. Come on, Brian will want to start the service shortly.

The two women, not wishing to keep Heathers husband waiting, headed for the porch and entered the church. Above them, up in the bell chamber, the six ringers were also keeping an eye on the time. In a couple of minutes five of them would need to cease pulling the bell ropes and leave the treble bell tolling on its own the minute bell; the warning to any latecomers to get a move on.

The bell-ringers were a good team although the ringer of the number three bell, a young girl called Sarah Hitchins, was the newest recruit. She was the leader of the local Girl Guides and had brought them on a visit to the bell tower a year previously. Shed been so enthralled by the bells shed signed up there and then to learn the ancient art of change-ringing. She tugged on the bell rope in her turn but as her bell swung there was an almighty crack from somewhere above her head and the rope, with her still gripping it, clattered and rattled uncontrollably upwards through the ceiling. Sarah shrieked in shock and fear as she was lifted clean off her feet.

Let go! yelled Pete the bell captain and steeple keeper. The tail of her rope thrashed around, hitting two other of the ringers, and then Sarah plummeted over a dozen feet to the floor and landed in a heap. The bells fell silent except for hers which clanged wildly on, until it ran out of momentum.

As the ringers gathered round the motionless body on the floorboards and Pete rang 999 there came the sound of footsteps up the twisting stone steps from the body of the church. Heather, followed closely by Olivia, appeared in the doorway.

Whats happened? she asked as she gazed at the white and shocked faces of the ringers. Is Sarah OK? Heather ran across to the casualty and knelt beside her, feeling for a pulse.

The ambulance is on its way, Pete told her.

Well, shes alive, said Heather. Out cold but alive. She gazed up at the bell captain. What happened? she repeated.

The stay snapped, said Pete. It happens, its rare but it happens, but Ive never seen a ringer injured like this. I think she must have pulled too hard, newbies do that, and she didnt have the experience to let go. Without the stay theres nothing to stop the bell carrying on turning full circle, again and again, wrapping the rope around the wheel. She got lifted clean off her feet.

Heather transferred her gaze to look up at the ceiling of the bell chamber and at the multicoloured sally of Sarahs rope, now filling the hole that guided it into the belfry. She looked back at Sarah. Poor kid. How terrifying.

In the distance they could hear the wailing ululation of an approaching emergency vehicle. Sarah groaned and her eyelids fluttered.

Lie still, said Heather, patting her hand. Youre going to be OK. Help is coming. She turned to Olivia. It might be an idea to tell Brian or anyone for that matter to meet the ambulance and show them how to get up here.

Of course. Olivia rushed off.

Sarah groaned again and opened her eyes properly. Tears slid down her temples and into her hair. It hurts, she whimpered.

What does? asked Heather gently.

Everything. My back, my legs.

Heather looked at Sarahs legs which were encased in jeans and saw her left ankle was at a hideous angle and blood was seeping into the denim covering her right shin. Heather was pretty certain that Sarahs ankle was broken and shed put good money on a compound fracture of her right tibia too. But even more worrying was the matter of Sarahs back. And good luck to the ambulance men who would have to find a way of getting her, immobilised, down the tower steps.

When the ambulance crew arrived Heather and Olivia rejoined the congregation which was buzzing with curiosity as to what had happened.

How bad is it? asked Brian who was waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Heather shook her head. Not great. Definitely one broken leg, possibly both of them are but her back hurts thats the really worrying thing. Pete said she fell quite a distance.

Brian ran his fingers through his sparse grey hair and made his fringe stand on end like Tintins quiff. I think, under the circumstances, we might abandon matins. Maybe just all of us join together and say a prayer for poor Sarah and suggest that everyone comes back for evensong He looked at his wife. What do you think?

Heather nodded. I think that sounds like a very excellent plan.

*

The next day, another of the towns residents, Bex Millar, stood in the primary school playground and watched her two young boys, Lewis and Alfie, hare around, like overexcited puppies, as they greeted friends they hadnt seen during the long summer break. What a difference, she thought, from the start of the previous term when theyd just moved to Little Woodford and theyd been new and shy. She wondered how her sixteen-year-old stepdaughter, Megan, was getting on at the comprehensive at the other end of town. Hopefully, now the class bully had been put in her place, Megan would slot back in with the same ease her half-brothers seemed to be displaying only possibly with less shrieking and running. But Bex was reasonably confident Megan would be OK. When her alarm had gone off that morning and shed pottered up to Megans bedroom in the attic shed found her stepdaughter already awake and showered.