the opening times displayed in the notice board.
‘Closed!’ said India in disappointment. ‘Open again on Thursday morning for a private christening and next week for Sunday service.’
‘What sort of church closes on a Sunday?’ snapped Brandon in frustration.
‘Well, it is five o’clock,’ said India, shaking the gate in vain, ‘Besides, it’s a sign of the times. We are turning into a nation of atheists.’
‘Come on,’ said Brandon.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Inside,’ said Brandon. ‘We can’t afford to wait another week.’
‘We can’t break into a church,’ hissed India.
‘Who said anything about breaking in?’ asked Brandon, pulling out a strange looking tool.
‘What’s that?’ asked India.
‘Swiss army lock pick?’ he suggested sarcastically.
‘You are not going to pick the lock?’ said India in disbelief.
He raised his eyebrows briefly before vaulting up onto the wall.
‘You coming or what?’ he asked and held out his hand.
She paused momentarily before taking his hand and clambering up the dry stone walling. They dropped down into the cemetery beyond and made their way around the wall to the arched doors of the main entrance. Brandon quickly knelt down and fiddled around with the strange tool before selecting a suitable candidate.
‘Oh for God’s sake,’ mumbled India. She looked around nervously while Brandon fished around in the keyhole with his lock pick. A few seconds later they heard the satisfying clunk of a falling lever and Brandon smiled up at India.
‘Sign of a disaffected childhood,’ he said, and pushed the door slowly inward.
Chapter 22
England 2010
The Nuns gathered in the great hall, eating their meal in relative silence. It had been two days since the tragedy and though they knew the Mother Superior had died, they had been told it had been natural causes. Sister Bernice had been sworn to secrecy, the explanation being that there was no need to worry the rest of the order. None of the Nuns were allowed outside of the walls after dark, and Maximillian and his son, Jacob, patrolled the corridors at night. Despite all this, Bernice still felt uneasy. She had never questioned the way of the order before but could not understand why they just didn’t call the police. Agnes had spent a lot of time with her in the last two days, trying to convince her that it was in everybody’s interest to keep the tragedy within the realms of the order, though despite Bernice’s protestations, she would not tell her exactly why. All she would say is that they nurtured a sacred secret and if the outside world came snooping around, then that secret could be lost forever. Bernice was also reassured that steps had been taken to protect the order and that very soon she would be initiated into the senior order, and, when that happened, everything would be revealed to her.
The meal continued in silence. Every thought was with the mother superior, now laying at rest in the order’s crypt beneath their feet. The seals had been replaced on the crypt and the Sisters were partaking of their last meal before a day of fasting. Once again Bernice sat alongside Sister Suzanna.
‘How are you coping?’ asked Suzanna in concern.
‘Not very well, in truth,’ she answered.
‘She had a good life,’ said Suzanna, ‘And it was her time. You even said yourself she was not looking well.’
Bernice stared at her friend, desperate to blurt out the true horror of what she had seen yet keeping her silence due to her loyalty to the order.
‘Oh, Sister,’ she said, ‘One day, when this is all over perhaps I will share my burden with you. In the meantime, I just need to get through the next few days. I may need your support.’
Suzanna took her hand and smiled.
‘I am here for you Bernice,’ she said and they both turned back to their meagre meal.
— -
Brandon and India walked around the inner walls of the church looking for any sign of the carving. Ten minutes later they met again near the altar.
‘Any sign?’ asked Brandon
‘Nothing,’ said India, ‘But it could be anywhere. What about the back rooms?’
‘All locked,’ he said.
‘Can’t you open them with that thingy?’ she asked.
‘I could but will take a while,’ he said. ‘Tell me, why is it so important we find this carving? It’s not as if it is the actual Palladium.’
‘No but if it proves the Temple was actually a Vestal Temple then it may prove that Rubria came here all that time ago. If we can prove that, we are one step nearer finding the Palladium.’
‘Come on then,’ sighed Brandon, ‘Let’s get started.’
For the next few hours they searched the small church for any sign of the carving without any luck. Finally they came back to the seats before the altar and sat on one of the pews.
‘I can’t believe we done all this for nothing,’ said India.
‘Never mind,’ said Brandon, ‘Let’s get out of here.
As they stood up, they heard the sound of the front doors creaking open and they stopped dead in their tracks.
‘Someone’s coming,’ whispered India.
They ducked behind the altar and peered towards the far end of the church.
A figure entered the gloom and paused at the end of the aisle.
‘Who is it?’ asked India.
‘A woman,’ said Brandon, ‘Cleaner, I expect.’
‘Do you think she seen us?’ asked India.
I don’t think so, said Brandon, though we can’t get out that way anymore.’
‘Shit, she is coming!’ hissed India, ‘We have to find somewhere to hide.’
Brandon grabbed her arm.
‘No time!’ he said, Come on, there has to be another way out. He led her back towards the rear of the church, following the short corridor towards a single door.’
‘We don’t have time to pick the lock,’ said India.
‘No need,’ said, Brandon with a smirk and pointed at the chrome push bar that looked so out of place on the old oak door. ‘Fire-escape,’ he said simply, ‘Good old heath and safety!’ He operated the mechanism and led her out of the door into the cemetery at the rear of the church.
‘Quickly!’ said Brandon and pulled her along the wall towards the wooded area of the cemetery. Suddenly India tripped and sprawled into the undergrowth of an unkempt grave.
Brandon turned to help.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘I think I’ve twisted my ankle!’
‘Let me help,’ he said.’ He bent down to help her to her feet, but as she looked up at him her gaze focussed on something behind his head.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.
‘Look!’ said India, ‘Up there on the wall. All that searching and it was outside all this time.’
Brandon followed her gaze and for a few moments, both people stood gazing up at the relief of a figure, set into the church wall a few feet above their heads.
The carving was set back in an arched alcove, carved out of a single piece of marble. It stood out from the rest of the wall as it contrasted against the dull greyness of the local stone and looked slightly out of place. Within
