(6/13) Gossip from Thrush Green by Miss Read

four o'clock, and the May sunshine was at its warmest as he set off past the school and across the green.
    He averted his eyes from the empty spot where once his beloved rectory had stood. As it happened, two large lorries were on the site loading the remains of the rubble. Once they departed there would only be the scorched grass and the blackened soil to mark the place of the rector's home. The Church officials had been kind and sympathetic. He would be taken care of, supplied with a resting place very shortly, and would be kept informed, at every step, of the decisions of his ecclesiastical masters.
    He had been severely upset to find that the investigation into the cause of the fire proved conclusively that faulty wiring in the airing cupboard was to blame.
    The immersion heater was housed in the lower part of this cupboard, and Charles could not forgive himself for not switching it off before they left the house. He said so to Harold.
    'But, you see, Dimity said we must leave on the hot water because Betty Bell's cousin from Lulling Woods was coming in to do some spring-cleaning before Edgar and Hilda arrived. I fear I was greatly to blame. Of course, I confessed at once to the man who came about it.'
    'Forget it,' advised Harold. 'That wiring should have been renewed years ago, and the Church is jolly lucky you two weren't burnt to cinders in your beds. Why, some of it is two-plug stuff, and some three, and you've got lead-covered wiring in your study and rubber stuff in the kitchen, and what looked like naked copper to me in that back kitchen of yours.'
    'It is rather a hotch-potch,' agreed the rector. ' Was, I mean. But then, you see, bits were added over the years, and I suppose they used whatever was in fashion. I know we had some trouble when we put in the refrigerator. All the lights blew out once when we opened the door. And the kettle used to snap on a red light sometimes, which frightened me very much, though Dimity assured me that it was a safety device. I'm afraid,' concluded the rector sadly, 'that I don't really understand electricity.'
    'You'd have needed Faraday himself to sort out the system in your house,' said Harold. 'Just be thankful you weren't there when it finally blew up.'
    'It wasn't so much blowing up as smouldering , they tell me,' replied Charles. 'You see the heat caught the lining paper on the shelves and that set light to the linen, and then the wooden slats, and then the roof timbers. And once the air got in everything became so much fiercer. I really can't bear to think of it. But, as you say, Harold, we must thank God that no one was hurt.'
    He tried to put his anxieties out of his mind as he went down the hill to Lulling. The town was looking beautiful in its spring finery. The Cotswold stone garden walls were hung with bright mats of mauve aubretia and yellow alyssum. Daisies starred the lawns, and everywhere the heady scent of hyacinths and narcissi hung in the warm air.
    The lime trees lining Lulling High Street fluttered their young green leaves, and the ancient japonica which fanned across the Misses Lovelock's Georgian house was already bright with scarlet flowers. Outside The Fuchsia Bush two tubs of splendid pink tulips flanked the door, and every window in the street, it seemed, held a vase of fresh spring flowers.
    The rector's spirits rose as he strode along relishing the beauty around him. As expected, he was stopped several times by friends who commiserated with him and cheered him with their concern and sympathy.
    He felt almost jaunty by the time he reached the solicitors' office, but the gloom of the entrance hall, a study in ginger-coloured grained paintwork, had a sobering effect upon the good man.
    A plump middle-aged lady showed him into Justin's office on the left-hand side of the hall, and he was greeted affectionately.
    'Just let me set you a chair, padre,' said Justin. 'Not that one. Take this, it has a padded seat.'
    He levered up a heavy chair with a high