A Finer End

one, with the water flowing from the hillside, that’s Chalice Well as it was then, where he met Alys.”

“But in the last days it shall come to pass,” read Winnie, “that the mountain of the House of the Lord shall be established in the top of the mountains, and it shall be exalted above the hills, and people shall flow unto it. That’s Micah.” Turning several pages, she said, “And after that, Revelation. It’s Jesus’ commandment to the Philadelphians. Him that overcometh I will make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out; and I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is new Jerusalem.… Glastonbury … the new Jerusalem …”

“Can you sing any of it?” asked Fiona. “Do you know how to read the notation?”

“Yes, but … it needs a choir. I suppose I could try.…” Winnie studied the new Jerusalem passage for a moment, then, hesitantly, sang a few syllables.

“Go on,” Jack and Fiona begged when she stopped.

Winnie sang another line of the verse, and as her confidence grew, she felt the power of the music welling up within her, reverberating throughout her body. When she glanced up, the expressions of her audience told her its effect on them was as profound.

Fiona’s eyes sparkled with tears. “Just for a moment, I thought …”

“Was that the music you heard?” Jack asked Fiona.

“An echo of it, perhaps …”

“This”—Winnie’s hands cupped the air round the folio—“oh, Jack—how could this have been allowed to disappear?”

Jack went to the bookcase, returning with a worn Bible. “This was my great-grandfather’s, but he recorded as much as he knew of the generations before him. I think I remember seeing Matthew’s name when I was copying the genealogical information for Simon. Here it is. Matthew John Montfort, died 1762— just three years after he wrote the letter. I suspect he never had the chance to pass the knowledge of the chant on to his son.”

“And by placing the manuscript in the painting, Matthew meant to take extra precautions. It’s ironic, isn’t it, that his actions caused it to be lost? Unless … You don’t suppose … where he says, ‘… as I have been instructed.’ ”

“Edmund? Well, why not? There’s no reason I should have been the only—” Jack stiffened.

They heard a murmur of voices, and a moment later Duncan and Gemma came into the room.

Winnie knew immediately that something was dreadfully wrong. “Faith? Is she—”

“She’s on her way to hospital,” soothed Gemma. “With her baby, a little girl.”

“How—what happened?” asked Jack, but Winnie saw that Duncan and Gemma were looking at her. She braced herself for a blow. If not Faith, then …

Duncan sat down beside her. “Winnie, I’m sorry, but it’s Andrew. He’s been quite badly hurt. They’ve taken him to hospital in Taunton.”

“Oh, no, please. Not …” Searching his face, she said, “There’s more, isn’t there? And worse. Faith—” The fragmented memory came back to her. “We were talking, in the cafe, Faith and I … she said something about her archaeology class. It was only when I was walking up the hill afterwards that I realized she must have known Andrew—she was a Somerfield student—and in that case why had she never mentioned it, in all the time I’d known her? And Andrew, when I told him about the girl who had left school because she was pregnant, he never said he knew her … Fiona! That’s why I was coming to see you. I needed to talk.” Winnie met Kincaid’s eyes again. “You said Andrew was badly hurt—how?”

“A head injury,” Duncan said reluctantly.

“Andrew tried to hurt Faith.”

Kincaid could only nod.

Winnie’s face became expressionless. “I must see him. Will you drive me to hospital, please?”

Gemma and Kincaid found Nick Carlisle haunting the corridor outside Faith’s room. He hurried towards them.

“How is she?” asked Gemma.

“They think they’ve got the bleeding stopped, but she’s awfully weak. She’s resting now.”

“And the baby?”

Nick’s smile lit his face. “She’s fine. Perfectly healthy, they say. Gemma … The doctor said you probably saved Faith’s life—and the baby’s. If there’s anything—”

“You’d have done the same,” Gemma told him. “I just got there first.” Somehow she understood that his gratitude was mixed with envy. He had wanted to be Faith’s savior, the hero of the day. “Perhaps it’s just as well, you know, that things worked out the way they did. Gratitude is a burden you’d not want to come between you two. You’ve a clean slate now.”

“I wish I did,” Nick said softly, his expression bleak, and Gemma recalled what she had learned of his past.

“Will they let us see her?” she asked.

“I’ll find out.” Kincaid went to the desk, leaning over to speak to the dark-haired nurse. Gemma saw him flash his most effective smile, then he returned to them.

“Just one of us, for five minutes, and that’s a special dispensation. You go in, Gemma. I’ll stay with Nick.”

She eased open the door. The girl lay in the hospital bed, eyes closed, her dark lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. The baby lay in a cot beside her, only the top of her fuzzy head visible beneath a teddy-bear blanket.