by Clare Revell
“Mum insisted we went as a family.” She took a long sip of her tea. “I can remember as a child being taken to London. We stood outside Buckingham Palace as the Queen drove past and went up to the gates. They opened automatically and she went in and the flag rose on the pole to say the Queen was in residence. A bit later we passed the palace again. There was a long queue of people in their best clothes, hats, suits, pretty dresses. She must have been holding a garden party or something. They showed their invitation to the soldier on the gate and he let them in. I wanted to go, but Mum said without a personal invitation, the soldier would turn me away.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Church is a bit like that garden party. It’s full of people who have a personal invitation from the King, only I don’t have one. Because I did something so wrong, so bad, that even He can’t forgive me.”
Pastor Jack handed her his Bible, his grey-green eyes catching the light as he moved. “What Biblical references are you basing this on? Can you show me?”
She took the Bible. It felt strange in her hands. Like an old friend she hadn’t seen in years. Familiar, comforting, yet its cover burned her fingers. Her conscience flared up, yelling at her. She wasn’t worthy to even hold this Book, never mind look inside it. She put it down. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I—”
Patrick reached over the table and took hold of her hand.
Pastor Jack put down his cup and gave a gentle smile. “We’re all fallen. No matter how hard we try this side of heaven, we won’t be perfect. Not even me. That’s why Jesus came in the first place. To do what you and I can’t do in a million years, please a Holy God.”
Eleanor sighed. “I know all that. My point is I threw it away. I turned my back on God and now I’m lost for all eternity.”
Pastor Jack paused. “There’s only one thing stopping you from opening the Bible, Eleanor.”
“What’s that?”
“Satan. He doesn’t want you finding out the truth. He’d rather keep you in his kingdom.” He slid the Bible back to her. “Show me where it says you can’t be forgiven.”
Slowly, her trembling hands turned to the passage in Hebrews chapter ten. “Want me to read it?” she whispered. As the two men nodded, she took a deep breath. “Verse twenty-six: If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins is left, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God. Anyone who rejected the law of Moses died without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much more severely do you think someone deserves to be punished who has trampled the Son of God underfoot, who has treated as an unholy thing the blood of the covenant that sanctified them, and who has insulted the Spirit of grace?”
Pastor Jack sipped his tea for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. “OK. There are various views about quite what the unforgivable sin is, although all agree it’s a sin that leads to death, eternal death. Matthew twelve, Mark three, and Luke twelve refer to blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. Hebrews six calls it the enlightened falling away and crucifying the Son of God all over again, subjecting Him to public disgrace, and the passage you read, Hebrews ten, to trampling the Son of God under foot and insulting the Spirit of grace.”
“What does it mean?” she asked.
“From what is said in the Bible passages, the unforgivable sin seems to be ‘knowing and being convinced of the truth concerning Jesus, and willfully rejecting Him.’ I would add that those who fear they may have committed it and worry that they have, actually haven’t done so because their heart is clearly not hard enough.”
“But…” Heat rose in her cheeks and she studied her hands intently. “I broke the commandments. I couldn’t keep them.”
Pastor Jack finished his tea, setting the cup on the tray. “We all break them. Jesus himself said that thinking something is the same as doing it. But what you have to remember is that there is forgiveness for all who repent of their sin and ask God for mercy. First John one verse nine says ‘if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.’ And again, in Romans eight verse one it says ‘therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.’”
“But I can’t atone for that sin.”
“Eleanor, the price has already been paid.” Pastor Jack smiled. “And doubts are just Satan reminding you and trying to tempt you into more sin. Almost like an open packet of chocolate biscuits and that little voice that tells you ‘go on, one more won’t hurt.’ Once you confess your sins, God forgives you and forgets them. He throws them into the deepest sea. True repentance means turning away from the sin which is confessed. You don’t need to keep apologizing, unless you’re still committing it over and over. Even then, He won’t give up on you, unless you harden your heart and no longer care about Him. The only things that still stand are the consequences of that sin which you have to deal with on a regular basis. But the sin itself is dealt with, wiped out and forgiven.”
Tears pricked Eleanor’s eyes. Was there hope? “So, it’s not too late for me?” she whispered.
“No,” Pastor Jack assured her. “He’s waiting, arms open for you to turn and run into them. The key is in that verse you read. Deliberately keep on sinning. True repentance means confessing and turning away, turning your back on it and taking the forgiveness offered.”
Tears ran down her face unhindered and, not caring she was sitting in a public place, she buried her head in her hands and sobbed. Chairs scrapped somewhere then she felt two hands on her shoulders and heard Pastor Jack’s quiet voice as he prayed. She followed his words in her heart, and for the first time in fourteen years felt forgiven and accepted.
15
After Pastor Jack left, Patrick smiled at Elle across the table. Hopefully they could talk for a few minutes, sort some things out before going back up to ITU. “How are you doing?” he asked.
A huge smile lit her face, making her eyes sparkle for the first time in days. “I’m a lot better than I have been. Actually feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Or at least part of it.”
“That’s because it has. God took the weight of sin from you and tossed it into the abyss.” He paused and winked at her. “And you know what the best bit is? He threw away the key, too.”
“Good.” She took a deep breath. “Need to tell you some things. I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have told you about Abbie like that.”
“No you shouldn’t. I’d honestly wondered, because although she had your mannerisms, she looked like photos of me when I was her age.” He pulled a face. “Though she’s far prettier than me, and I don’t wear dresses or those low cut tops she favors.”
“Tell me about it. She drives…drove Mum mad with them. She’s so proud of her womanly figure. All I ever wanted to do was hide mine.”
He shot her an appreciative glance that had her blushing from the tips of her ears down to where her slender neck vanished into her shirt. “There is nothing wrong with your figure, then or now.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Seriously, Elle. You are a very beautiful woman. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. And it’s possible to dress to show off your figure without sending the wrong signals. Have to ask Niamh to take you dress shopping. Both you and Abbie. And before you say something, it’s not an imposition. She loves shopping and has exquisite taste.”
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
He squeezed her hand. “You’re welcome.”
Her smile lit her face. “And I want everyone to call me Elle now. It’s what you call me and I prefer it.”
“Then Elle it is. There’s something I want to talk through though, without you running a mile if possible.”
“Ask away.”
“You left all those years ago without saying a thing. Did I do something wrong or hurt you.”
“No, you didn’t hurt me.” She piled the plates back onto the tray. “I wasn�
�t sure how you’d react.”
“I’d have married you,” he said without hesitation. “But right now we just need to concentrate on Abbie and getting her well. We can pick this conversation up again later.”
“I’d like that.”
He glanced at his watch. “We should get back up to ITU. The results should be back by now.”
She stood and walked with him into the hallway. “Can’t we take the stairs? I don’t like lifts.”
Patrick shook his head. “It’s eight floors, with three flights of stairs per floor. It’s far quicker to take the lift. I thought you were in a hurry to get back up to Abbie.”
“And I thought you had to keep fit in your line of work.” She winked at him.
“Women,” Patrick moaned half-heartedly.
“Secret agents,” she replied in the same tone. She pointed to the bank of lifts. “Oh look, it says out of action. What a shame. I guess it’s the stairs after all.”
“Fine. The stairs it is.”
She grinned and headed to the stairs to find a janitor standing there.
“Stairs are closed, love. I’ve just mopped them. You’ll have to take the lift.”
“Oh. But it says out of action.”
The janitor pointed. “Those three service lifts are in general use.”
She looked at Patrick.
“We’ll be fine. Come on.” He took her hand and led her to the bank of lifts. “Pick one.”
She pressed the button for the elevator and winked at him. “It doesn’t work like that. It’s random. But I tell you something that isn’t.”
“What’s that?”
“The way I feel about you. It hasn’t changed.”
Patrick grinned. “Nor has the way I feel about you.”
“Even after all I did to hurt you the past week…years?”
“Yes.”
He pulled her into the elevator as the doors opened. Fortunately they had it to themselves. He hit the button for the eighth floor and pressed her against the wall of the lift and lowered his voice. “There is something that I’ve always wanted to do in a lift.”
“Really?” She held his gaze. “And what might that be?”
He ran his fingers down her face, aware of the spark of electricity that passed between them and of the way she shifted slightly so her body was touching his.
Elle ran her hands over his arms. Did she realize how cute she was when she blushed?
Patrick pulled her closer, one hand running over her back, the other resting on her waist. He lost himself in her gaze. Her scent was overpowering, sending shivers down his spine and curling around his stomach. Slowly, he inclined his head towards hers. “This,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers.
Her eyes widened as a jolt of electricity passed between them. “Ohhh,” she gasped.
Patrick pulled back. “I’m sorry.”
“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t be. Kiss me again.” She slid her hand around his neck and kissed him again. His hands moved in response, sliding through her hair.
The elevator shuddered and began to drop.
Elle cried out falling to the floor.
Patrick landed beside her, grabbing her hand and pulling her close, in the vain hope of protecting her. He closed his eyes tightly waiting for the final thud as the lift hit the bottom of the elevator shaft.
16
Elle felt Patrick’s hand touching hers as they fell and she gripped it tightly. She cried out as the elevator stopped with a stomach twisting jerk.
“It’s all right. We’ve stopped. The emergency brakes have kicked in. We’re not going anywhere.” He sat up and looked up at the doors. “We’re on the fourth floor. Are you all right? You’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine. How far did we fall?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t paying much attention.”
Elle backed into the corner and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, feeling the panic starting to set in. She looked up at Patrick. Did anything ever rattle him? Her voice shook as she tried to control her breathing. “We should have taken the stairs.”
“All eight floors? Besides they were blocked off.” Patrick hit the alarm and the bells began to echo through the elevator shaft. He shot a smile over at Elle as he opened the phone box, grabbed the phone and put it to his ear. “Hello? Yeah, there are two of us. The lift number is zero five. OK, thanks.”
He looked over at her as he put the phone down. “They’ll call the fire brigade and the lift engineers. We just have to wait.”
Elle shook her head. “Yay. Stuck in a lift, just what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. I need to get back to Abbie.”
“She’ll be fine.” He pulled out his mobile phone and checked for a signal, relief crossing his face as he found one. “Yeah Shay, it’s me. We’re trapped in a lift. I’ve rung for rescue, but wanted to let you know we won’t be appearing any time soon.” He smiled reassuringly at Elle. “I’ll tell her. Bye.”
“Tell me what?”
Patrick moved over and sat next to her. “Shay says she’ll sit with Abbie ‘til we get back.” He eyed her with concern as she tightened her arms around her knees. “You didn’t mind my company a few minutes ago. What’s changed?”
Elle closed her eyes for a moment, the silence broken by the ringing of the alarms. “Is this a good time to mention I suffer from claustrophobia? Always have. It’s like the walls are closing in on me here.”
Patrick put an arm around her. “I’m here with you.”
She shivered. The fear was totally irrational, but felt real none the less. “Least I don’t die alone.”
“We’re not going to die,” Patrick responded.
“Really?”
“Really. They’ll get us out.” He paused. “Besides its Saturday.”
Elle looked at him confused. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
He winked at her. “I have it on good authority that no one ever dies in a lift on a Saturday. I’ll give it to you in writing if you like.”
“If you want to, but like you keep telling me, you lie for work all the time. That’s when you’re not shooting people.”
“I only shoot the bad guys, and I use cover stories when I have to in order to keep the country safe.”
The elevator cables creaked. “How strong are those cables?”
“Those cables could break completely in two and we’d stay right here. The emergency brakes are on two huge poles on either side of the lift. We’re not going anywhere.”
“I see.” She took a deep breath. “Does the ‘not going anywhere’ mean we don’t get rescued either?”
Patrick pointed up at the roof hatch. “They’ll come through the roof. They’ll lower down from the next floor up and get us.”
Elle frowned. “On the TV it always stops by the doors and they just pry the doors open. Why’d they have to come through the roof?”
“They might not. We might be near enough the doors. But I promise they will get us out.”
“All right.” She sighed and hugged her knees closer. She was suffocating, but couldn’t let him see. “So, since we’re stuck here, tell me about your life the past fourteen years.”
Patrick looked at her. “You want my life story?”
“You know about my past, yet I know next to nothing about yours.”
He let out a deep breath and mirroring her, pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his free arm on them. “Honestly there’s not much to tell. I finished the course and then went to America for three months, sightseeing mostly. Then I spent three months in Australia doing the same thing. Came back here, joined MI5 and the rest as they say is history.”
“Have you ever killed anyone?” she asked more out of curiosity than anything else.
Patrick studied his nails. “Yeah.”
Elle rubbed his arm. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard.”
“It comes with the territory. We shoot to wound, to take them down before the
y get us or the general public. Sometimes it works, other times not so much.”
“Have you ever been shot?”
“I’ve had more than a few scrapes in the past. Shot once.” His brow furrowed and he gnawed his bottom lip. “Anyway, I’m married to my job, for better and worse and usually poorer rather than richer. The only girls I meet are ones I’m protecting, chasing, partnering or investigating. Or worst case scenario, pushing them up against a wall, slapping handcuffs on and reading their rights to. Kind of ruins any chance of a relationship.”
He paused and shook his head. “That last bit sounds dreadful if it were taken out of context.”
“I know what you mean.”
“The short story is, even if I’d had time for a relationship, no one would want me.”
Elle shook her head. How could anyone not like him? “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Uh huh.” He looked away.
Elle elbowed him until he looked at her. She ran her gaze over his figure slowly, running her tongue over her lips. “Seriously. You’re fit, good-looking, and talented. Plus you know how to give a girl a good time.”
Patrick scoffed. “We’re stuck in a lift.”
Elle nodded. “See, you defiantly know how to give someone a good time.”
He smiled slightly. “You’re silly. So, since we’re now on the subject of my job, let’s talk about you and the case for a bit. I’ve been trying to work out what this bloke has on you.”
“I don’t know. Does it matter?” she said. “I mean…at first I thought he wanted to expose I was Abbie’s mum, now I’m wondering if maybe he found out about Dad…” She took a deep breath. She couldn’t tell him, not yet. Not until she’d had chance to think it through. “Doesn’t matter. I just need to get out of here.”
****
Half an hour passed and the alarm finally fell silent. Elle kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself battling with the emotions and rising panic inside her. She was hot and couldn’t stop shaking. “They’re not coming.”
