Free Time's Legacy by Barbara Erskine Page A

punch!’
    ‘He’s spoken to you?’ She clenched her fists again, trying to speak calmly. ‘Did he tell you that he hit me?’
    The bishop nodded wearily. ‘He more or less corroborates your story, although he does feel you were out to seduce him from the start. He is also worried as to what exactly you were doing in the church that necessitated the lighting of so many candles.’
    ‘Candles?’ She felt the colour drain from her face.
    ‘Candles.’ The bishop sat back and picked up his cup. He was watching her carefully.
    ‘They weren’t real candles.’ She met his eye defiantly. ‘The church was full of ghosts. There was a choir and a parson and the pews were full and someone was singing the most beautiful solo hymn.’ Uneasily she began to pleat the folds of her skirt between her fingers. ‘And then Kieran arrived and, just like that,’ she clicked her fingers, ‘they disappeared. The church was dark when he came in. Dark and cold and empty.’
    ‘There was a mention of witchcraft.’ The bishop grinned broadly.
    ‘Oh, please!’ Abi stood up. ‘I don’t believe it. I suppose that’s because I rejected his advances.’
    ‘Actually he assumes it helped you lure him against his better judgement.’
    ‘The vindictive bastard! Does he want me burned at the stake!’
    ‘Not good Christian sentiments, Abi, but yes, something along those lines.’
    ‘Well, I’m resigning, remember? So he can take his box of matches somewhere else.’ She sat down again, furiously. ‘He is right about one thing. I was wrong to take holy orders. I accept that now. I have no vocation!’ She stopped abruptly. She hadn’t planned to say that. ‘It’s not just that I am seeing ghosts,’ she went on doggedly, deciding she might as well make a clean breast of things. ‘I’ve been practising the ministry of healing. He doesn’t like that at all, either.’ She paused, then went on. ‘He was so afraid. I don’t know if he was more afraid of the ghosts or of me or of himself. All three, perhaps.’ She shrugged. ‘After I saw him, after I left the church, I don’t know what happened. Perhaps I was in shock, but I was seeing everything differently suddenly.’ She hesitated. ‘The ghosts, everything, have always been there, but I couldn’t quite see them before. I’ve sensed them. I knew there was so much going on that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Then suddenly it was as though someone flicked a switch and all the lights came on in my head.’
    The bishop said nothing. He waited, his eyes on her face.
    ‘Everything was glowing. People, houses, trees. It was like looking through some kind of prism; shimmering colours. Everywhere. And people in the streets. People who weren’t there.’ Her voice had dropped to a whisper. It had been incredible, somehow how she imagined it must be the first time or two one got high on drugs. Beyond anything she had ever experienced. She realised the bishop was still watching her closely.
    ‘People?’ he prompted at last.
    ‘People in old-fashioned clothes. Ghosts. Like in the church.’ To her embarrassment her eyes suddenly filled with tears. ‘I could feel their pain. Their loneliness. Their fear.’
    For a moment there was complete silence in the room. Outside in the hall, a phone rang and almost immediately stopped. ‘What’s happened to me?’ She looked up at him pleadingly.
    ‘I think in modern parlance, Abi, that you are probably suffering from stress,’ he said at last. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘We have been overworking you, that much is clear, and the man who should have been your guide and mentor has betrayed your trust. And mine!’ He paused a little grimly. There was another moment of silence. ‘Can you see those prisms and lights now?’
    She shook her head.
    ‘Any ghosts?’ He was very serious.
    She shook her head again.
    ‘Good.’
    ‘I spent yesterday praying,’ she went on after a moment. ‘When you couldn’t see me at once, I