by Clare Revell
Hope traced the rim of her cup with her finger. She looked up at the dark-eyed pastor sitting opposite her. “What do you want to know?”
Angel fidgeted on her seat. “Need a wee.”
Hope moved to let her out. “Don’t be long.”
Angel ran over to the ladies room
Hope wondered if he’d heard on the grapevine about why she’d been evicted. How many people knew about the trouble she was in and the false allegations made against her?
His clear gaze held her captive. “I just want to get to know the real you, that’s all.”
“And what if you find the real me isn’t worth knowing?”
“Then this non-existent wedding is off.” He winked. “Seriously, Hope, it’s a big drop from that flat to a homeless shelter.” He paused. “If you’d like to talk about it—? I won’t condemn you, but you may find I can help in some way.”
“What have you heard?” she asked quickly. “Has anyone said anything?”
“Not in so many words,” he said.
Hope looked down at her hands. “Because none of its true,” she said defensively. “It may have been once upon a time, well part of it, but that was a long time ago and people change. But the rest of it is a pack of lies, not that anyone will ever believe me. I’ll just be blamed for the rest of my life.”
“Nothing is unforgivable, Hope.”
“In your world maybe, but in mine?” She fell quiet.
“Silent Night” played from the hidden speakers.
She shuddered. She used to love Christmas, now the words of the carols just pointed the finger at her.
Angel came skipping back just as the food arrived.
Hope let her back in and closed her eyes as Nick said grace.
Nick picked up his knife and fork. “How about I tell you a bit about me and then we go from there?”
“OK.” She tucked the serviette into Angel’s jumper.
“I’m twenty-six, have one brother, a sister, two parents. Ex-army, I’m the assistant pastor at Headley Baptist. I listen to classical music, play rugby, and the violin. We normally spend Christmas together, but this year everyone else is on a cruise in the Caribbean or skiing in the States somewhere. So it’s just me. I was planning on spending Christmas Day at the shelter dishing up dinner and wearing one of those paper crowns all day. Once I’ve been to church, that is.”
“You’re doing the Christmas Day service?”
He shook his head and ate a mouthful of his meal. He waved his fork. “I’m preaching the Sunday before Christmas in the morning. You could come along, bring Angel. And then there’s the carol service in the evening.”
“Can we?” Angel asked. “I like singing carols.”
“We’ll see.” Hope shook her head. It wasn’t fair to ask in front of Angel, but she wouldn’t say as much.
“So, your turn.”
“It’s just me and Angel.”
Nick looked at her. “No parents? Siblings? Long lost aunt?”
Hope looked down, her stomach turning. The statement bothered her, maybe because she didn’t have to be on her own with Angel. Maybe her family did still love her. She wasn’t telling him the full truth. But after all she’d done, what was one more infraction on top of her countless sins? She was damned regardless. Her past saw to that.
Nick picked up his mug. “See, I think there must be someone else, somewhere. A work colleague or friend. What I can’t work out is why you didn’t turn to them for help.”
“I couldn’t.”
“If I had to guess, I’d say you have two parents, one brother, one sister, a dog, and a hamster, and a man who was fool enough to let you go somehow. Am I close?”
Her cheeks flamed. “It was a guinea pig, and I have two parents, one brother, and two sisters. They live in Ely; or they did. I also have an aunt who lives here in town. She owns a florist in Carnation Street, but I haven’t seen her in years.” Tears filled her eyes again, and her fingers tangled in her necklace. She needed to get out of here. She tried to get up, but found herself rooted to the chair. Something was prodding her to talk to him.
A Voice in her head, a gentle One, telling her to trust him, let him help her.
“Do your parents know where you are?”
“I haven’t seen them for over nine years.” Hope’s voice wobbled.
“That’s a long time. Can I call them for you?”
She shook her head. She concentrated on her food, hoping he’d drop the subject.
“My mum would be frantic if she didn’t know where I was. She’d get an A.P.B. put out and call the cavalry. Surely you can’t have messed up so much they’d stop loving you?”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“But I’d like to.”
“Trust me, you wouldn’t.” She glanced sideways at Angel, who was paying far too much attention to the conversation. “Little ears.”
He nodded. “OK, we’ll talk later.”
6
Nick drove back to the shelter and waited while Hope put Angel to bed. He stayed in the main dining hall, very aware of the fact he shouldn’t be alone with Hope; especially not in the staff sleeping quarters.
Even if the small lounge area up there would afford them the privacy they’d need for this conversation, there were rules and as a pastor he couldn’t break them. In fact, he had more to abide by, as Jack kept reminding him at their weekly mentoring sessions.
He busied himself with making tea, and then waiting for her. As Hope came in, he held out the tea. “Just the way you like it.”
She dropped into the chair beside him. “Thank you.”
“Did she go down all right?”
“She’s a little out of sorts. A bit hot, but then it’s been a busy day. She said some of the kids are off sick. I’m hoping she doesn’t go down with it. This isn’t the best place to look after a sick kid.”
Nick nodded. He glanced across the room.
DS Painter was watching him and Hope. The officer was sat with another man, just as disheveled.
Nick assumed that was the officer taking over the nightshift. “So, where were we?”
“You were asking questions I really don’t want to answer. Not in front of Angel and not now, either.”
“What are you so afraid of? Do you really think if I knew who you were I wouldn’t like you anymore?”
“Something like that.”
“Please, just give me a chance to help.”
“You can’t put it right. It’s too late.” She got to her feet.
“Hope, please.” His hand shot out and grabbed hers. He swallowed, not expecting a simple touch to send such emotion rocketing through him. “Sit down. Tell me why you’re living here and not in the flat. OK, the flats aren’t perfect, and I know they have a no child policy, but I also know that wasn’t why you were evicted.”
Hope looked at him, her eyes glistening, and then she sat. “I’m a social worker. At least I was until they fired me. Someone accused me of certain things that make me unemployable. I didn’t do any of them. But my boss said he’d have to involve the police and they’d investigate the claims.”
“What claims?”
“Abuse of power, misappropriation of funds, improper conduct, you name it. Apparently, it comes from several sources. Complaints from my clients.” Her face reddened. “And they’re also accusing me of solicitation.”
Nick frowned. “That’s a little extreme.”
She looked down. “I guess.”
His hand brushed over hers. “Hope?”
She shook her head. “Anyway, the flat went with the job, and here I am. I can’t go home before you suggest that. Or go to my aunt’s place. She’d only tell Mum and Dad where I am. I have to fix this on my own.” She took a deep breath. “All I have left is a very battered photo and lots of memories of when I was growing up.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
She looked at him, a morose expression on her face. “When they arrest me, look af
ter Angel. Make sure she doesn’t go into care.”
“It won’t come to that. Go to the police voluntarily, make a statement.”
“But it might. You don’t understand or know the sorts of people I was working with. If one of them has a grudge, then they have the wherewithal to get enough evidence to make those charges stick. Just promise me when that happens, if that happens, you’ll keep Angel safe.”
Nick nodded slowly. There must be more he could do. Hope and Angel had a family out there somewhere. Maybe, given time, he could persuade her to let him help her find them.
****
Hope spent the following day avoiding everyone she could. Apart from Nick. He was the only person she felt safe around. One of the homeless people in particular gave her the creeps.
He’d said his name was Simon. He seemed to follow her around with his gaze. Every time she looked up, he was watching her. Perhaps he was in league with the bloke with the knife.
As darkness fell, she gave Angel her coat. “We’re going to see the Christmas lights.” She had to get out, get Angel away from this man and anyone else who wanted to hurt her. “And whoever sees the most Christmas trees gets to choose the book at bedtime.”
Angel beamed and coughed. “Yay. I love competitions. I always win.”
“That would be because I let you win.” Hope tugged the bobble hat over Angel’s head, and tied on the scarf.
Angel pouted. “Not fair.”
“But you like winning.” Hope tweaked her daughter’s nose. “However tonight I’m going to win because I am tired of reading Penelope Goes to the Fair.”
Angel immediately started counting trees and house with lights on almost the second they left the crisis center.
Hope kept walking, heading towards the church. She wondered if there would be a sign up outside detailing the Christmas services. Angel had asked several times about the carol service Nick had mentioned. Going to that wouldn’t hurt.
“This is God’s house,” Angel said. “Are we going to see Him?”
Hope smiled. “I don’t think you can see God, not like that. But you wanted to go to the carol service, so I thought we’d see when it was.”
“Why don’t we go and see your aunt? What’s her name?”
“My aunt?”
“You said last night she lives in a florist in Carnation Street.”
“You remember far too much,” Hope said. She sighed.
“That’s because I have a photographic memory,” Angel said, coughing again. “Mr. Evans-Teush said so.”
“Hmmm, did he? And speaking of Mr. E-T, I don’t suppose he’s far away is he?”
Angel reached into her pocket and pulled out the rabbit’s head. “Nope. He’s right here. What’s your aunt’s name? And your brother and sisters?”
“My aunt’s name is Tilja. My brother is Rick, and my sisters are Grace and Faith.”
“Is their surname Hargitay as well?”
Hope closed her eyes for a moment. “No.”
“Twenty five,” Angel said triumphantly, pointing at yet another Christmas tree in a window. “What’s their surname then?”
“Chadwick,” Hope said quietly. She stopped outside the church. The door was ajar and organ music came from within.
The phone in her coat pocket rang, making her jump. She’d forgotten it was there. Reaching down, she pulled the handset out and looked at the screen. The battery was only five percent, but she knew the number. “I have to take this call.” She hit the green button. “Hello?”
The phone died.
Hope looked at Angel. “I need you to wait here for me. I have to go to the phone box opposite church and make a call.”
“Can’t I come with you?”
Hope shook her head. “It’s right over there and I won’t be long. Just sit here.”
“It’s too cold. Can I sit inside and listen to the music?”
“I need you to stay here where I can see you. I need to know you’re safe.”
“This is God’s house, so of course I’ll be safe. You said He takes care of people, right?”
Hope nodded.
“So a church is one of the safest places to be.”
Hope kissed her forehead. “When did you get so wise? OK, sit right inside the chapel at the back and don’t move.” She watched Angel slip inside the church, and then headed across the street to the phone box before she changed her mind.
Snow began to fall, swirling around her as she stepped inside the old fashioned red phone box. She dialed quickly. The call answered immediately. “Yes?”
“It’s Hope Hargitay. My phone died.”
She shuddered as the voice snarled a string of expletives at her. She now knew for certain who had told the DSS her past. “Why?” she asked. “Why now?”
“Because it’s time you paid,” he told her roughly. “You’ll lose your child the way you took mine away from me.”
The call cut off as the money Hope put in ran out. She replaced the receiver and leaned against the phone box, trying not to cry. It had been her first case. She was doing things by the book, only no one had expected the outcome. She and the entire department had been cleared of any wrongdoing.
Taking a deep breath, she exited the phone box and headed back across the road to get Angel. Her coat lay on the back pew where she’d presumably been sitting. The church was empty. Angel and Mr. E-T were gone.
“Angel!”
No answer came. Hope turned round wildly. Where was Angel? Had someone taken her as they’d threatened? Maybe she’d gone back to the shelter, but why on earth had she gone without her coat? She would freeze.
Hope left the church and ran back to the shelter. She burst through the doors and ran up to her room. “Angel! Are you here?” Again no answer came. Hope ran back down the stairs and into the main hall. “Has anyone seen Angel?”
Lots of heads shook a negative.
Simon rose to his feet. “Have you lost her, miss?” he asked.
“I can’t find her anywhere. She was sitting in the church while I made a phone call. I just turned my back for a second. Is Nick here?”
“He’s gone home.”
Hope turned, desperation making her feel sick. She went back into the swirling snow, her stomach turning and twisting and a metaphorical knife sticking into her chest. She ran back to the church.
The church door was now closed. It hadn’t been before. She pushed on it, but it didn’t budge. She went down the side and pushed on that door, hitting the doorbell and shouting her daughter’s name. No one came. Blind panic filled her and overflowed. She whirled around, tears falling. “Angel, where are you?”
Now what did she do? She had to find help, but how? She had no more change to call the police or the pastor whose number was on the notice board on the front of the church.
Perhaps Angel was still inside and couldn’t get out.
Nick. She’d walk to find Nick. He’d have a key to get into the church, surely. All pastors had keys to the church. He lived where she used to and she could get there in ten minutes or so. She ran, her feet slipping on the snow and ice until she reached the flats. She banged on the caretakers door. “Mr. Burns…”
He opened the door. “What is it, Hope? I can’t give you the place back.”
“I don’t want it. I need to find Nick Slater. Which is his place?”
“Five seventeen.”
Hope turned and ran up the five floors, her breathing labored and the pain in her chest increasing. She found the door and pounded on it. “Nick!”
No one came.
Tears fell like a waterfall. She turned and stumbled down the five flights of steps. What now? Where could she go for help? Perhaps she could find the manse? Maybe they’d have a key to the church.
She reached the bridge, watching the reflection of the lights in the water below. The higher the bridge went, the prettier it looked. Angel loved it here. Hope began to run. Something blue on the edge of the bridge caught her eye. Bending down she pic
ked up. A shaft of grief pierced her anew. Angel’s rabbit. She clung tightly to the toy. She looked up at the sky, snow falling in her eyes. “God, if You’re there, please, help me find her.”
7
Nick walked quickly, his collar turned up against the snow. His car refused to start, again, so he was now running late for the elder’s meeting which began at seven. Maybe if he asked nicely, one of the other elders would be able to drop him home afterwards.
The snow began to settle on the ground as he headed to the bridge that connected the two halves of the town. The meeting tonight was at Jack’s home, normally a ten minute drive, but tonight a half hour walk. He really didn’t want to deal with an elder’s meeting now, but he’d go, even though he was cold, tired, and just wanted a hot bath and bed. Never mind the dead car he had to sort out.
He glanced up at the pinnacle of the bridge. There was someone leaning on the railings. He blinked. Why would anyone be looking over the edge in this weather? The person looked like Hope. But it wouldn’t be as she’d have Angel with her. And she’d also have more sense than to be out in this.
The still, quiet Voice within him said that he needed to hurry. As he drew parallel with her, his stomach pitted.
Hope.
He didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to work out something was wrong.
She looked out over the horizon, her hand resting on the lamp post. Her fingers screwed into something blue, her whole body shaking with the intensity of emotions filling her.
Lord, give me the right words to say to her. Help me to help her. He stood on the pavement next to her. “Hope, what is it? What’s wrong?”
Huge sobs tore from her. “Angel’s gone.”
Deliberately not looking at the huge drop below them, he leaned against the railing beside her, with his back to the river. He took a deep breath. “What do you mean gone? Where is she?”
Hope turned to face him. Angel’s toy rabbit was clenched in her hand and a coat slung over her other arm. “Gone. I can’t find her. She left her coat behind.”
“Where did you last see her?” He reached out and took hold of her hand. It was freezing. How long had she been out here looking?
Tears fell down her cheeks. “In the church—the door was open, and she waited inside while I made a phone call from the box opposite the church. It was warmer in there, and I thought she’d be safe there. I was only a couple of minutes, but when I went back, she wasn’t there. So I ran to the shelter, but she wasn’t there either, and by the time I got back to the church it was locked. And I didn’t have change for the phone to call the number on the board, so I ran to your place, but you weren’t there.”
