Saints and Sinners

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Broomwaters

Meadvale

Surrey

"We are so lucky with the weather this year...it is unusual for us to have these celebrations outside, David?" Sebastian Osborne said as he took a seat next to David Harrington, watching a group of boys ruining their suits playing football on the lawns. Broomwaters was often the chosen venue for major Meadvale events, and every May, the anniversary of the founding of the Christian Republic of Great Britain and Northern Ireland was celebrated with a large all-day and night house party, invites to which were the hottest tickets in town. "But the question is do either of us have the stamina to last until midnight?"

"I shall be having a nap this afternoon, old chap...and I will not be touching the champagne until the sun is going down?" Harrington chuckled as he watched his grandson score a goal and slide along on his knees in joy. He hoped that the keepers had thought to pack a change of clothes for their young scallywags. "How about you? Are you any nearer being able to take things a little easier?"

"Young Nicholas has agreed to most things...I have compromised a little in places just to encourage him...but nothing can be set in stone until we have the money sorted...and Connor is being stubborn," Osborne sighed, fussing over the folds of his purple robes. "Charles still thinks he will do the decent thing in the end, but until the Symonds estate makes a sizeable contribution to the reparations, the UN won't budge."

"I thought that they just wanted two trillion? That it did not matter who paid what?"

"So did I...but no, according to Charles, Delacorte and Fletcher will not leave the Symonds with the fruits of evil...it is a matter of principle to them."

"Yes...and I can't say that I blame them...but Michael argues that the investment fund is being used to encourage the expansion of the movement abroad?"

"How is he?" Osborne asked as he had not tried to see his former mentor for several months by that stage. His role in bringing down Ralph Winstanley had not endeared himself to the former archbishop.

"Bedridden...in pain...not long now?" Harrington said, and Osborne nodded, getting the point. He needed to try and see the old man one last time, before it was too late. "Did we ever have that much energy?"

"God no, not in living memory...I remember tearing a calf muscle playing with the boys...I was in my fifties...and when I was a boy, I was never much into running around?"

Inside the house, or rather the annexe, which was more like a conference centre with a big hotel inside it, Diane Slade was listening to the Pastor reading the lesson, concentrating on not moving a muscle. She was in the ballroom, apparently, where much later on there would be dancing and entertainment, but for the ladies, the day started with their devotions and the huge room was full of kneeling Daughters of Eve, all tethered to rings set in the floor. Being invited to the celebrations was supposed to be an honour, and a kind thank you from Bishop Osborne to Hugh and Harrison for all their help, but in their third hour of prayer, she was not sure that she appreciated the gesture. She preferred to live quietly at home, with only a daily walk to break up their settled routine. It was the life she had helped give Caroline for forty odd years, and although Miss Doyle was not quite as accommodating as she had been, it was not unpleasant. She loved Harrison, she thought, although those emotions were mixed-up with gratitude and relief, she had to admit. And she loved Hugh and Caroline too. They had become her family over the years. So, she prayed for her family, for those she loved, hoping that they could all live a peaceful and happy life.

Nearer the front, Caitlin Winstanley was kneeling alongside her four daughters and even her oldest granddaughter, who had just turned eighteen and was about to marry later on in the summer. She was looking forward to spending the day with her family, with her beautiful girls, and she reminded herself that it was days like that which had made her refuse to go with her brother, when he offered her the chance. She could not leave her girls. Life with her son and her daughter-in-law was comfortable and safe. She was well-kept, but also usually well-treated, and she realised that she was happier than she had ever been, since her birth father claimed her. Ralph Winstanley had made her life unbearable at times, but with him gone, and her son's custody of her confirmed according to the terms of her father's last will and testament, she was safe from that sort of evil. For her, prayers were no hardship, she had prayed for three or four hours every day for the last forty odd years, and she had the day with her girls to look forward to.