her in every single way. ‘It’s just that … well, I don’t think I believe in God.’
‘Don’t think you do?’ Jed asked her. ‘So there’s room for doubt?’
‘I don’t know, maybe not, actually. I’m sorry. Do you have to attempt to convert me, or something? Is that in the handbook?’
‘No,’ Jed smiled. ‘But I am not going to pretend that I don’t have faith, or stop talking about it, or expressing my love for God. Is that OK?’
‘Seems fair enough,’ she said. ‘Now, let’s go out on operation Mo.’
Just as Sergeant Dangerfield had predicted, it seemed to be the younger dispossessed people of Poldore that had collected in Sue’s great hall, some on Sue’s strange collection of camp beds that she had had stowed away in one of the many old outbuildings, stables and sheds that made up the maze that was Castle House. Some had grabbed a duvet or a sleeping bag on their way out, while others were huddled under one of the many rough-looking pink and grey blankets that Sue had also produced. Unlike the older generations who were engaged in muted conversation in the kitchen, speculating on what bad news the dawn might bring, anxious about the damage that was being wrought right now on their own houses, and hoping for the best for the people they hadn’t been able to contact, the teenagers were thoroughly enjoying the whole impromptu sleepover.
They’d grouped themselves in little circles, and there were a couple of guitars playing laboured covers of numbers that Tamsyn thought she might recognise as being by the latest rock band. There were some furtive-looking couples who jumped apart the moment Tamsyn and Jed entered the room, clearly up to a little more than holding hands under those prickly blankets, and that particular scent of hormones hung in the air, signalling that youth was present and very much incorrect.
‘Looks like you’re making the most of the circumstances,’ Jed said cheerfully to a group of long-haired boys, who scowled at him from under their fringes, which made Tamsyn smile. He might be a handsome vicar, and popular within the town, but talking to teens was not his forte. Not like her; she worked in fashion. It was her job to be down with the kids.
‘Great playing,’ she told a girl with a guitar. ‘Coldplay?’
‘No,’ the girl said, shaking her head and looking at her friend in disgust. ‘They suck.’
‘Oh, well …’ Tamsyn shifted Mo from one arm to the other. ‘Very derivative of Coldplay, if you ask me.’
‘I didn’t,’ the girl said. ‘I wrote it myself, actually. It’s had thirty-seven views on YouTube.’
‘Wow! Thirty-seven thousand?’ Tamsyn asked.
‘No. Thirty-seven.’ The girl scowled and blushed, and Tamsyn remembered that when she was about the same age she would move heaven and earth not to have to exchange words with someone more than a couple of years older than her. There was no playing it cool with these girls, so she might as well stop trying.
‘Is that the baby?’ Another girl from another group spoke up. This one looked less frightening than the last, with lovely wavy blonde hair and the sort of complexion you only have when you are that young. ‘The one that someone left at the church?’
‘Yes,’ Tamsyn said, eyeing her closely for signs of recently having given birth. ‘We’re very worried about her mother … She must be frightened and lonely and in need of medical attention …’
‘Oh my God, she is
so
cute,’ the girl stood up, and turned out to be wearing nothing more than an outsize t-shirt that was just long enough to cover her behind. Jed turned away at once, and started talking in earnest to a group of boys, who rather hastily hid what it was they had been looking at on their mobile phones under their sleeping bags as he crouched down next to them. ‘I thought she’d be ugly or something, but she’s not even!’
‘Uh-huh,’ Tamsyn blinked, searching the girls’ open faces for any similarities
‘Don’t think you do?’ Jed asked her. ‘So there’s room for doubt?’
‘I don’t know, maybe not, actually. I’m sorry. Do you have to attempt to convert me, or something? Is that in the handbook?’
‘No,’ Jed smiled. ‘But I am not going to pretend that I don’t have faith, or stop talking about it, or expressing my love for God. Is that OK?’
‘Seems fair enough,’ she said. ‘Now, let’s go out on operation Mo.’
Just as Sergeant Dangerfield had predicted, it seemed to be the younger dispossessed people of Poldore that had collected in Sue’s great hall, some on Sue’s strange collection of camp beds that she had had stowed away in one of the many old outbuildings, stables and sheds that made up the maze that was Castle House. Some had grabbed a duvet or a sleeping bag on their way out, while others were huddled under one of the many rough-looking pink and grey blankets that Sue had also produced. Unlike the older generations who were engaged in muted conversation in the kitchen, speculating on what bad news the dawn might bring, anxious about the damage that was being wrought right now on their own houses, and hoping for the best for the people they hadn’t been able to contact, the teenagers were thoroughly enjoying the whole impromptu sleepover.
They’d grouped themselves in little circles, and there were a couple of guitars playing laboured covers of numbers that Tamsyn thought she might recognise as being by the latest rock band. There were some furtive-looking couples who jumped apart the moment Tamsyn and Jed entered the room, clearly up to a little more than holding hands under those prickly blankets, and that particular scent of hormones hung in the air, signalling that youth was present and very much incorrect.
‘Looks like you’re making the most of the circumstances,’ Jed said cheerfully to a group of long-haired boys, who scowled at him from under their fringes, which made Tamsyn smile. He might be a handsome vicar, and popular within the town, but talking to teens was not his forte. Not like her; she worked in fashion. It was her job to be down with the kids.
‘Great playing,’ she told a girl with a guitar. ‘Coldplay?’
‘No,’ the girl said, shaking her head and looking at her friend in disgust. ‘They suck.’
‘Oh, well …’ Tamsyn shifted Mo from one arm to the other. ‘Very derivative of Coldplay, if you ask me.’
‘I didn’t,’ the girl said. ‘I wrote it myself, actually. It’s had thirty-seven views on YouTube.’
‘Wow! Thirty-seven thousand?’ Tamsyn asked.
‘No. Thirty-seven.’ The girl scowled and blushed, and Tamsyn remembered that when she was about the same age she would move heaven and earth not to have to exchange words with someone more than a couple of years older than her. There was no playing it cool with these girls, so she might as well stop trying.
‘Is that the baby?’ Another girl from another group spoke up. This one looked less frightening than the last, with lovely wavy blonde hair and the sort of complexion you only have when you are that young. ‘The one that someone left at the church?’
‘Yes,’ Tamsyn said, eyeing her closely for signs of recently having given birth. ‘We’re very worried about her mother … She must be frightened and lonely and in need of medical attention …’
‘Oh my God, she is
so
cute,’ the girl stood up, and turned out to be wearing nothing more than an outsize t-shirt that was just long enough to cover her behind. Jed turned away at once, and started talking in earnest to a group of boys, who rather hastily hid what it was they had been looking at on their mobile phones under their sleeping bags as he crouched down next to them. ‘I thought she’d be ugly or something, but she’s not even!’
‘Uh-huh,’ Tamsyn blinked, searching the girls’ open faces for any similarities
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