Before I Wake

by Clare Revell

  “Hopefully what I have to say this morning will help ease that for the both of you.” Pastor Carson frowned. “There’s a lot happening in town right now.”

  “The forces of evil are camped around us. And Isabel’s tent is right in the middle,” Zander said. “We’d be grateful for your prayers until we catch this bloke.”

  “You are all surrounded. And of course, you have our prayers. I will talk to Jack and get an elders meeting called to bring you all before the Lord until this case is solved.”

  “Thank you. I should find Isabel.” He looked at DI Holmes. “We’ll give you a full report tomorrow.” He headed inside and picked up an order of service. Seeing Isabel, he strode to where she sat and slid into the chair beside her.

  “You seen this?” she asked, pointing to her service sheet.

  Zander glanced down. “Seems to be aimed at what’s happening,” he said quietly.

  “Yeah. That last hymn has the chorus, ‘the Lord Himself stood by me’. The sermon is on the same verse in the Bible.”

  He smiled. “See, the Guv was right. We needed to be here this morning.”

  She shuffled her feet. “But he’s still out there.”

  “I know. But God’s got this.”

  The piano stopped playing.

  Pastor Carson rose to his feet. “Good morning. I’d like to start by thanking the headmaster, Fraser Quirke, for allowing us to use the hall for the next few weeks while the church is out of bounds. The police tell me it’ll be at least a fortnight, so all our meetings that are normally held in the chapel will be here.” He paused. “I’m sure you’re all aware of what happened last night in the church grounds.”

  Isabel nudged Zander and angled her head. He followed her gaze. Farrell sat two rows in front of them.

  Zander frowned. Was he really that spaced out that he hadn’t even noticed the bloke come in? He put a hand on Isabel’s arm, ready to tell her to move.

  She shook her head. “It’s fine,” she whispered. “He won’t try anything here. He’s not that stupid.”

  Pastor Carson continued speaking. “Later in the service we’ll be praying for Lexi’s family, the police officers involved in solving the case, and for the Lord to overrule in this situation and work it for His good. We also need to remember the other five families who are grieving.” He paused. “And for the Slayer, the man responsible for the deaths. That the Lord will work on him and in him and lead him to repentance.”

  Mr. Yardley, Brit’s father, stood. “Are you saying you want him to walk free after what he did? He slaughtered my little girl.”

  “I’m not saying that at all,” Pastor Carson responded.

  Mrs. Yardley tugged at her husband’s arm and shushed him. “Brian…”

  Pastor Carson looked over at him, compassion radiating from his gaze. “Brian, the police will catch him, and the courts will deal with him. He’ll be punished for what he’s done, the same as I was for my crime. But it’s not our place to condemn his soul. We’re not God, thankfully.”

  “The police are doing nothing! And no disrespect, Pastor, but you just waved a gun about in a bank. You didn’t kill anyone.” Mr. Yardley yelled. “Two more women since my Brit. Why aren’t they out there hunting him down?”

  Isabel half-rose and whispered to Zander. “Should we go over and calm him down?”

  Zander shook his head. “The Guv and Sarge are almost there. Let them handle it.”

  “Let’s sing the first hymn, ‘He Will Hold Me Fast’. We’ll stand when the music begins.”

  The piano and drums drowned out Mr. Yardley’s shouts of rage. The hymn began before he was convinced to calm and leave the hall.

  Zander kept his gaze firmly on Farrell as the man turned and glanced behind him, a calculated smirk on his face. Isabel didn’t notice. Zander shoved his hands into his pockets. There had been enough disruption already this morning, without him starting a fight as well.

  3

  Isabel sat still as the service ended. She kept her eyes closed as long as possible, hoping Farrell would leave before someone had to arrest him for breaking the PIN. As nice as it was to see him in a church service, he’d picked the wrong one to attend. Although, knowing him as well as she did, he probably chose her church deliberately.

  Zander touched her arm. “Is, are you OK?”

  She nodded.

  “It’s safe to open your eyes now.” A smile touched his voice. “He’s gone.”

  She looked up. “Good.”

  “Lunch?”

  “Don’t you have plans?” She reached for her bag by her feet.

  “Yeah, to eat lunch. You’re sure you’re all right?”

  Isabel rolled her eyes. “Shall I put a big sign around my neck? I am fine.” She waved her hands as she spoke to emphasise the point.

  Zander snorted. “Actually, I’d prefer a massive neon sign on top of your head. One that says, ‘I’m fine so naff off and leave me alone’. Along with those huge, white light bulbs.”

  Isabel laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Zander tilted his head. “Please do.”

  “When does your mum leave?”

  “Her train leaves at three. I was hoping you’d eat with us.”

  Isabel shook her head. “Go be with her without a third wheel in play. Why don’t you drive her home? It can’t be that far.”

  “Two-and-a-half hours door to door traffic permitting.”

  “Then do it. I can manage. After all it’s not as if I have to work today, it’s my day off.”

  “Are you sure? I planned to take you home.”

  “You’re not my boyfriend, Zander. You’re my partner and you see me way more often than your mum. Now go, take her to lunch, and then drive her home.” She winked. “Buses do run on a Sunday.”

  “Come with me to Margate. Dad will be there and I…”

  “This is one conversation you and your dad need alone.” She arched an eyebrow. “I’ll go visit your grandad and annoy Mr. T, poor cat. Assuming he’s back. He went out yesterday morning and hasn’t come home. He used to do that a lot, but since Gran died, he’s barely left the house.”

  “Maybe the burglar you had the other night scared him off.” He stood. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Isabel stood. “Go find your mum.”

  “She’s right over there.” He pointed.

  “And I will see you tomorrow.”

  He frowned. “I don’t want you catching the bus.” He lowered his voice. “You’re on the list, remember?”

  “You won’t let me forget. And do you honestly think the Slayer is that stupid? I’m not living in fear of what might happen. I could get hit by a bus as soon as I leave here. Or you could hit me with your car instead of a bollard.” She winked. “Yes, I went there.”

  “I hit a bollard once. I don’t make a habit of it. Will’s car got totalled the same night, yet no one teases him about it.” He sighed. “I won’t live that down, will I?”

  She chuckled. “Nope. And Will’s car was totalled by a drunk driver hitting him which is hardly the same thing. I will see you tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “OK. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. There is something I want to do on the way into work.”

  “Drive safe. Bye.” Isabel headed to the door and out into the bright sunshine. The day was turning into another scorcher.

  DI Holmes caught her as she crossed the car park. “Zander not taking you home?”

  “No, Guv. He’s driving his mum back to Margate.”

  DI Holmes opened the car door. “In that case, get in, and we’ll drop you off. Vianne, scoot over.”

  “I don’t want to put you out,” Isabel protested.

  He frowned. “Get in the car, Isabel.”

  Vianne offered her a smile. “Best jump in quick. That’s Uncle Nate’s ‘don’t argue with me’ voice. He tends to ground people when they ignore him.”

  Isabel got in the car. “Don’t want to be grounded. Mind you, it’s good if it’s thunder
ing, as the lightning won’t get you.”

  “Not if he takes away your phone charger for three days. Won’t let you go outside, use the Internet or watch anything interesting on the telly.” Vianne looked at her wide eyed. “Can anyone make their phone last that long between charges?”

  “Yes.” DI Holmes glanced in the driving mirror. “It’s very easy. You just don’t use it twenty-four-seven.”

  ~*~

  Zander pulled into the farmyard and switched off the engine. He regretted this already.

  Mum undid her seatbelt. “Thank you. Will you come in for a drink before you leave?”

  “I…” Zander paused. His father would most likely be in the fields at this time of day, despite the fact it was a Sunday. And Zander was thirsty. “Sure.”

  He carried his mother’s bag and case into the farmhouse. It hadn’t changed. The kitchen was exactly as he remembered. “It’s the same.”

  “We painted the walls, but other than that, yeah, it is.” Mum filled the kettle and set it on the range to boil.

  Footsteps came from an inner room. “Jocelyn, I was expecting you to ring from the station. I was going to pick you up.”

  Zander turned to face his father. The reason he’d left home eight years ago and never returned. “Hello, Dad.”

  “Zander gave me a lift.” Mum moved across the kitchen and hugged his father.

  Dad raised an eyebrow. “Long way to come.”

  “It was the right thing to do,” Zander said.

  Dad humphed.

  Zander stared at the floor. He wouldn’t even get a hello. Well, at least he knew how the land lay now. “I should get going.”

  “Not without coffee first.” Mum spooned instant coffee into three mugs. “How have things been since I left, Edgar?”

  “Busy,” Dad replied. “Martin put his back out, so I’m a man down.”

  A dog came running into the kitchen and barked.

  Zander bent down to give the canine a scratch behind the ears. “New dog?”

  “Shep died three months back. Hay bale fell. This one is learning quick, but not quick enough.” Dad moved slowly to the table and sat to drink his coffee.

  Zander watched him. “You’re limping.”

  “It’s nothing. As I said, hay bale fell. Sit and drink the coffee your mother made.”

  Zander poured himself a cup and took a place at the table. No one made it quite the way Mum did. Isabel had proved it was possible to make instant coffee wrong. He glanced around. He really had missed the place, despite the arguments that he’d had here and the angry way he’d left.

  Dad drained his cup and stood. “I need to go check that top pasture again.”

  “Want a hand?” Zander asked.

  Dad tugged his cap over the top of his head. “Don’t you have more important things to do back home?”

  Zander shook his head. “Not today. It’s my day off.” He followed Dad outside and climbed into the tractor. He’d forgotten just how far off the ground these things were. Neither spoke as Dad drove over the farmyard and through the open gate.

  Zander closed the gate and climbed back inside. “So, this hay bale,” he yelled over the noise of the tractor.

  “It fell. Shep pushed me out of the way. Broke my leg.”

  “You didn’t tell me.” Zander didn’t know whether to be hurt or put out that no one had told him. Dad could have been killed. Would they have told him then?

  “You left,” Dad yelled back. “Turned your back on all of this. Assumed you didn’t care.”

  “I left to find a job. Doesn’t mean I stopped caring.”

  The tractor stopped. Sudden silence replaced the noise.

  Zander lowered his voice to a more normal level. He had to know the truth one way or another and there was no time like the present. “OK, since you brought the subject up. Yes, I left. But I wrote. Why didn’t you give Mum my letters? Or take my calls? Or let her take them?”

  “I didn’t want her upset. You broke her heart when you walked out the way you did.” Dad eased down to the ground and hobbled away.

  Zander followed him. “I didn’t intend to hurt anyone. But you and I were at loggerheads all the time. I couldn’t stay here. Farming isn’t what I want to do with my life. I need to make a difference. Help people.”

  Dad grunted. He trudged over to the wall by the brook and peered at the stonework.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Zander called.

  “It’s not holding back the water. The field gets bogged and the sheep get foot rot.”

  Zander strode to the stone wall and hunkered down on the ground. He ran his fingers over it. “Not surprised. Do you have any mortar?”

  “Yeah, in the barn. Why?”

  “I can fix this.”

  Dad angled his head and quirked an eyebrow in that typical way only he could. “Thought you were too busy, and hated farm work.”

  “I didn’t say I hated it. Just couldn’t spend the rest of my life as committed to farming as you are.” He checked his watch. “It’s only four-thirty. We’ve at least five hours of daylight left. Does Sam still work here?”

  “Aye.” Dad removed his cap and rubbed the top of his head. He’d gone bald in the past eight years. “What are you thinking?”

  Zander pointed to the base of the wall. “Pull it down and repoint it. Three of us should get it done easily in the time we have.”

  Dad nodded, a light shining in his eyes. “Aye, that’ll work. I’ll radio down and get Sam to bring up what we’ll need.”

  “Thanks.” Zander stripped to his waist and laid his jacket and shirt in the tractor. He turned to the wall and started to work.

  By the time they got back to the farmhouse, it was almost dark. Tired, hungry, dirty, but content, Zander knew that not only was the wall rebuilt, but the relationship with his father was finally beginning to be repaired as well.

  Dad climbed out of the tractor. “Bit of tea, lad?”

  Zander nodded, parched. He’d forgotten how labour-intensive manual work was and how much of an appetite it worked up. “I wouldn’t say no.” He followed Dad into the kitchen, making sure to toe off his muddy shoes before going over the threshold. “Something smells good.”

  Mum peeped over the top of her reading glasses at them. “Yes, well, no one is eating looking like that. Go and wash up the pair of you.”

  Dad nodded. “We need to make a bed up for Zander.”

  “Already done. Sam stuck his head around the door before he went up the top field to find you and told me what you were doing.”

  Zander shook his head. “I can’t stay overnight. I have to work tomorrow.”

  “It’s too late to drive back tonight, son,” Dad said. “It’s gone ten. You won’t get back ‘til the wee small hours and you’ll be no good for work then. So, do as your mother says and stop the night.”

  Zander glanced at his watch, wiping mud from the face. He’d text Isabel and let her know the change of plan. She could easily catch a bus in the morning, and he’d see her at work. “I’ll need to leave by six to get to work by eight-thirty.”

  Mum nodded. “We’re up at four to do the milking. Breakfast at five thirty, so you’ll easily be on the road by six. You can eat and run.” She flapped a tea towel at them. “Go shower. Clean clothes are on the bed.” She paused. “Your old room.”

  Zander tried to hug her, but she sidestepped him and laughed. “You’re filthy. Git.”

  Zander chuckled and headed up the winding back stairs to his old bedroom. It hadn’t changed. It was exactly as it used to be—right down to the pirate wallpaper and pictures of wrestlers he’d sellotaped to the walls. He showered fast and then headed down to eat.

  Dad was already there, tucking into the plate of steaming shepherd’s pie.

  Zander sat beside him and bowed his head, saying grace silently, before picking up his fork.

  “You go to church this morning.” Dad said. It was more of a statement than a question.

  Zander nodded
, slightly surprised his father even mentioned it. “Yes. Quite a few of the people in my unit go to the same one. My boss is an elder there.”

  “Is it a good one? Your mum said she enjoyed it.”

  Zander ate as he replied. “Yeah. Lots of good Biblical teaching. It’s fairly big, the singing is good.”

  “You need to make time for what matters,” Dad told him. “Whether that’s church or family. Though there is room for both. Your mother showed me that.”

  Unsure where Dad was going with this, Zander nodded in agreement. “Once this case is over, I’d like to come back here, maybe stay a little longer than overnight. I’ll take some leave and help a bit, catch up properly. Work was pretty full on last night. We had church in the local school today as the chapel itself is currently a crime scene. Our case decided to get a little bit personal.”

  His father studied him over the fork. “That the case on the news? The Prayer Slayer?”

  “Yeah.” Zander shoved the fork into the pile of pie. “We’ll get him. We always do, but…”

  Dad set his fork down and picked up his mug of tea. “It would be good if you stayed longer. Maybe…maybe you could tell me why this faith of yours is so important.”

  Hope sprang like wildflowers in the fields. Zander held Dad’s gaze. “I can tell you now if you like.”

  Dad yawned. “It’s late and I’ve an early start.” He winked. “You could always tell me over the milking at four AM.”

  “Sure.” For the sake of telling his father why Jesus was so important, Zander would willingly forgo a few extra hours in bed.

  Dad nodded. “Now eat up and then get to bed. A growing lad like you needs food and sleep.”

  ~*~

  Zander was up just before 4:00 AM. At least it was daylight. That made it a little easier. He was exhausted but wanted to talk with his father. But only his mother was in the kitchen when he made it down the stairs. He crossed the room and kissed her cheek. “Morning Mum. Has Dad already left?”

  Mum shook her head. “Alex our new shepherd called him at 2:00 AM. A sheep and two lambs fell down a ditch in the south field. They’re trying to get them out.”