Thomas Bradbury stood at the gates of the graveyard, he knew the answer was here, somewhere. The soft chime of St Katherine’s bell tower rang twice. Its reverberation swirled in the strong breeze and to, Tom, it was a pleasant and comforting sound, especially at night. He held his mobile phone in his hand and pressed the menu button with his thumb. Its backlight illuminated causing a soft glow to refract through his glasses and make his eyes constrict. He looked at the time on the display. It was ten minutes past two. Tom looked at the church clock and shook his head, ten minutes slow. Thick cloud blanketed the night sky keeping the full moon temporarily hidden. The light pollution of Chapelford had dissipate so not even the artificial amber radiance of the street-lighting could help him see. Occasionally the cloud would thin enough to allow the soft gleam of the moon to gently illuminate the church and its grounds in shimmering glory. To Tom it felt like the slow heartbeat of nature’s sleeping breath. He noticed a small gap in the night sky so he stood and waited. Suddenly the stone church and its encircling headstones appeared out of the black as if brushed with silver before disappearing back into the dark. "Its beautiful", he said to himself before placing his phone into his trouser pocket.
A four-foot high wall, topped with black iron railings, surrounded the church and its graveyard like a circular stone curtain protecting the building. It ended at an old wooden porch adorned with church notices and adverts for redemption. Tom rested his hands on the frame of the gates and noticed they were unlocked. ‘No corners for the devil to hide in,’ thought Tom as he pushed the newly black painted iron gates. The grinding sound of the rusted hinges sent a slight shiver though Tom’s body leaving them open for fear of suffering the sound for a second time. Moonlight graced the scene once more and Tom walked up the main path that split the Graveyard in two. St Katherine’s sat at the far-east end. Its gothic yet shadowed ornate twelfth century stonework struck awe into the heart of Tom as he made his way closer to its large oak double doors. Then he heard the creak of the gate and he quickly spun round. He stood for two minutes but saw no-one, surmising that the strong wind had caused the gate to close. Tom looked forward again. The Church suddenly vanished from sight as the moon disappeared into the heavy cloud, but Tom carried on along the straight path until he finally reached the arched entrance.
He felt the rough, weather worn wood with the palm of his left hand before grasping the large cold iron ring that hung down below the keyhole. His right hand took a brand new key from his top pocket and turned it in the lock. The latch opened and Tom turned the large ring and gave the door a gentle push. The musky smell of the building drifted through the slight gap. The air inside was cool, but stale, suggesting the doors hadn’t been opened for several days. Tom stepped into the entrance hall, the moonlight illuminating the baroque tiled floor. The door closed heavily behind him causing the sound to echo around the church plunging him into total darkness. He felt the stone walls for a light switch until eventually his fingers brushed against cool plastic, yet his fingers did not press the button. Tom was trespassing. He knew she shouldn’t be drawing attention to himself by lighting up the church, 'but who'd know? It’s two in the morning', he thought as he fingered the switch. His common sense won through and he let his arm drop to his side.
He slowly walked into the main chapel area and used the back row of pews to guide himself through the black. Reaching the main aisle Tom patted the last pew on the left hand side and whispered, “one.” Touching the next row he whispered “two”, and then “three”. He stopped when he reached the next row, “four,” add shuffled his way along the seats. Reaching the middle of the row he sat down looking towards the alter. The moonlight shone brightly through the thin gauze of cloud causing the stain glass windows of St Katherine to shower the chapel in colour. The large window behind the alter of St Katherine herself almost seemed to move as the moonlight became brighter and then darker. Tom leaned forward and felt underneath the seat. His hand moved warily across the rough, worn underside of the pew and his heart quickened, his hand moved frantically left and right, as he desperately searched for the item he was expecting. Tom slid off the chair and onto his knees. He looked underneath the pew and the surrounding seats but it was too dark to distinguish any form of object. Searching with his hand once more but he felt nothing. He felt frustrated as he stood up and put his hands on his hips.
Part one of 'Chapelford Parish Hall' continues here
