They were sitting around Peter’s kitchen table. ‘That lake is the old quarry. It’s only about half a mile across the meadow from here, and then it’s another half to the edge of the wood.’

 

‘Are you sure you want to go along with this?’ Laura asked, looking across at Peter. ‘Is it a very vicar thing to do?’ She glanced at Abi and shrugged. ‘It doesn’t seem it.’

 

Peter shook his head. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll make my peace with those I need to, but the fact remains, he must be made to account.’ He looked at both women. ‘And besides which, we need more evidence. Solid facts. We can’t rely on Laura’s version on its own.’

 

Laura pulled a face. ‘I’ll probably get banged up as well. I wasn’t very subtle with the stalking and the arson.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Although I didn’t mean to harm the animals. It just all happened so quickly I lost control.’

 

They set off as darkness fell, cutting across the meadow towards the lake. While the remaining dusk light made things bearable, an icy darkness soon fell, and walking became much harder.

 

Twice Abi’s foot stuck in a rut, and she cried out in pain. They stopped for a moment after the second time. Peter put a comforting hand on Abi’s shoulder. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I know we have to keep quiet.’

‘We do,’ Laura nodded. ‘Sound seems to travel easily in the dark.’ She looked down at Abi’s leg. ‘Are you OK to keep going?’

‘I’ll be fine.’

 

They walked on. When they had earlier planned what to do, Abi and Peter were troubled by one part of their plan. Laura insisted she go into Goddard’s house alone. ‘He knows me; he won’t be expecting me.’ Abi and Peter argued it seemed too risky - and unnecessary. Why did she want to go in alone? What was to be gained? Laura didn’t answer. Before they left the vicarage, Peter made a phone call.

 

Now they reached the far side of the meadow and climbed a gate. Beyond was the track. Laura led the way, followed by Abi and then Peter. In single file, they made good progress along the ancient track. Soon, the trees enveloped them. The air turned damp and Abi shuddered with cold.

 

‘It’s so dark,’ she whispered. ‘But at least the track’s much smoother here.’

A rustling sound nearby startled them. Laura slowed and glanced into the darkness at the side of the track. Abi stopped and Peter stepped into the back of her.

‘What was that?’ asked Abi. They all stood motionless.

‘Nothing.’ Laura put a hand on Abi’s shoulder.

 

Abi looked at the younger woman. ‘Any more noises and I’ll mess myself.’

‘Probably just a deer,’ suggested Peter as he whispered close to Abi’s head. ‘I don’t think we get many bears or wolves around here. Mind you, who knows for certain?’

 

Abi smiled at him. ‘That’s all we need,’ she hissed. ‘A mischievous vicar with a schoolboy sense of humour.’

Laura shrugged. ‘Who knows? It could be a bear.’ Laura started walking again. ‘And please don’t.’

‘Don’t what?’ Abi and Peter started walking and Abi could just see Laura looking back over her shoulder. ‘Mess yourself.’

‘Sod off,’ Abi murmured.

 

They walked on in silence. It took them 25 more minutes to reach their destination. They crouched low behind a bush at the rear of the house. Laura put a finger to her lips. Abi and Peter nodded.

 

Their plan was simple. Get into the house and confront him. Get a confession – recorded on their phones - then leave.

 

Laura pointed at Abi and then at Peter, and then at the ground. They nodded. Stay put was the message. Laura stepped away into the darkness. She was going the long way round. Peter and Abi shifted to watch her creep towards the far side of the house, and then she disappeared into the garden.

 

An outside light illuminated the back door at one end of the house and a light glowed behind curtains in the downstairs window. ‘That’s the sitting room.’ Abi whispered, her lips almost touching Peter’s cheek. He nodded. They shifted again and sat on the damp ground. Laura’s instruction was to wait for her to return or signal for them to come into the house.

 

Abi shivered and moved as close as she could to Peter. He, too, was feeling cold and pulled his knees upwards towards him. He wrapped his arms around. Abi looked to her right, back towards the stretch of track they’d just walked. She could see the outline of the first few yards. Then nothing. Just blackness. She looked left.

 

Again, she saw nothing, just a faint outline she knew led somewhere. She felt frightened and leaned against Peter. The dark and the cold made the minutes seem endless. Suddenly, Abi’s phone vibrated in her jacket pocket. She pulled off her gloves and fumbled for the pocket zip, pulling the phone free as quickly as she could. The screen glowed - a message from Laura. “Come in.” Abi held the phone up for Peter to read. He nodded, and they hauled themselves to their feet. Peter led the way towards the house. They headed for the back door. The unlocked door led them through the small kitchen and into the lounge.

 

Abi gasped. Laura’s body slumped in a chair, her head lolling to one side.

Beside her, his arms folded, his manner arrogant, was John Goddard, aka Monty Stewart. ‘Good evening,’ he said. ‘Please join us. My stepdaughter and I have had a slight falling out – nothing serious. She’s still alive.’

 

Abi couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t speak. Peter, rigid beside her, fumbled for her hand. He squeezed it. ‘Oh God, what have you done?’ Abi spluttered.

 

‘What have I done? That’s rich because I’m guessing that you three came here for some other reason than a social visit. I can’t see a bottle of wine in your hand.’

Laura groaned and shifted in the chair.

 

‘And I don’t think we’ve been introduced.’ He stared at Peter.

‘We haven’t.’ Peter’s tone was confident. ‘You knew my father. I think you moved in with him.’

 

‘Mr Wells, I presume.’ Goddard smiled. ‘Well, isn’t this cosy?’

Beneath him, Laura stirred. Abi moved forward and knelt down. ‘Laura, can you hear me? Laura.’ Abi looked up at Goddard. ‘What have you done to her?’

 

Goddard shook his head – in exaggeration. ‘Me? Nothing. I caught an intruder trying to get into my house. All dressed in black – again.’

Abi stroked Laura’s hand. ‘But her face wasn’t covered this time, was it? You are a monster,’ Abi shouted.

 

Goddard laughed. ‘A monster? No, I’m no monster. Just a realist. Make what you can of life’s opportunities.’ Goddard unfolded his arms and, for the first time, Abi and Peter saw he was holding a gun.

 

Peter made a slight move forward. ‘I wouldn’t try anything. I have no faith – I can kill you as easily as anyone else. Besides, I have something special in store for all three of you.’

 

Abi caressed Laura’s cheek. ‘So,’ she murmured, ‘you’re going to kill the child of the woman you killed all those years ago. That should tidy up any loose ends.’ She stared up at Goddard. ‘You drove the car, didn’t you? You killed Maggie.’

 

Goddard shrugged. ‘I’m afraid so. The silly woman was on her way to turn me in. Accusations about brutality and control.’ He stared at Abi. ‘I couldn’t let her do that - say all that nonsense.’

 

‘Perhaps,’ said Peter, ‘if you have a plan, we could press on with it.’

Abi turned to him. Why was he antagonising the man holding a gun?

‘The thing is,’ Peter continued, ‘you’re not the only one who has a plan.’

‘You have a plan?’ asked Goddard.

 

‘Certainly.’ Peter’s voice was firm and assured. He thrust his hands into his pockets and sighed. ‘Never leave home without a plan.’

 

‘Care to share?’ Goddard waved the gun towards Laura and Abi. ‘Are they in on the plan? Because it doesn’t look like it – not from where I’m standing. And I’m the one with the gun.’

 

‘No, I have to be honest. Abi and Laura are not familiar with the plan. I just thought best to have a Plan B.’

 

‘Plan B, eh?’ Goddard’s tone was sarcastic. ‘Well, there’s a clever vicar. I don’t think there are many Plan B’s in the Bible, are there?’

 

‘I’m not sure that’s how they’re best described.’ Peter nodded. ‘But I agree, it’s open for discussion.’ Peter glanced at Abi and then back at Goddard. ‘The thing is, I don’t think they would have approved. Actually, I know they wouldn’t. The Bishop, God bless him, certainly wouldn’t approve. I don’t think my job will survive this plan.’

 

Goddard was agitated. ‘You are annoying me, Mr Wells. I don’t like that.’

Again, Peter glanced at Abi, still kneeling on the floor by a stirring Laura.

‘Shall I get on with my plan?’ he asked.

 

Abi was confused. She didn’t know about any plan. Did she have enough faith in this man to agree? Abi nodded.

 

Peter, calm and composed, turned towards Goddard, who stood with his arms behind his back. He whipped a pistol from his jacket pocket and fired at Goddard, who screamed in pain as the missile hit his leg. Abi yelled in surprise, as Goddard fell back against the wall and slid downwards. Peter fired a second shot, this time hitting him in the shoulder. Goddard screamed again, and his gun fell from his grasp. Peter leapt forward and picked it up.

 

He stepped back, out of Goddard’s reach. ‘If you make one sound other than a painful groan, I shall shoot you again.’ He looked down at the stricken man and then at the pistol he was holding. ‘Small bore gun club experience. Life a long time ago, but tonight, for one night only, I’m back – and you are the target.’

 

Laura’s eyes opened. She stared up at Abi. ‘What happened?’ she whispered.

Tears rolled down Abi’s cheeks. She squeezed Laura’s hand. ‘Everything’s fine. Peter had a plan.’

‘Abi, could you get this sinner something to cover his wounds while I keep my pistol ready for any stupid moves?’ Abi leaned on the arm of the chair and hauled herself up. ‘And perhaps we better check Laura’s head?’

 

‘Uh. No harm done, but it hurts.’ Laura’s voice was shaky. She put her hand to the back of her head. ‘God, that hurts.’ She pulled herself forward in the chair and turned a little in Goddard’s direction. ‘You better hope we’re never alone again,’ she spat.

 

Abi walked through to the kitchen. She found two clean towels in a drawer and threw one at Goddard on her way back into the room. ‘Here, press that over your shoulder. I’ll wrap this one round your leg.’

 

She bent down and wrapped the towel around Goddard’s leg, covering a wound on the knee. She pulled it tight enough to make him shriek with pain. Standing again, she looked at Peter. ‘What next?’

 

‘Well,’ the priest hesitated, ‘one part of me suggests we call the police and an ambulance.’

‘And the other part? Perhaps that he disappears?’ suggested Laura.

 

Goddard looked across. ‘Want your pound of flesh, do you?’ His eyes blazed. ‘That’s not the woman I pleasured not so long ago.’ He sneered at her. ‘The woman that came here week after week in the hope she’d get laid.’

 

Abi stared back and stared forward. She put her foot on his injured leg and pressed down as hard as she could. His scream filled the house. ‘Bitch,’ he cried at her.

 

Abi stepped back. ‘You are the biggest mistake, the biggest regret, and the biggest embarrassment of my life. You are scum.’ She screamed at Goddard and lashed out again with her foot. He flung his legs wide; she missed.

 

Laura looked towards Peter, waiting for him to restrain Abi. But he stood motionless, unmoved by her aggression. A heavy silence descended upon the room.

 

Laura was the first to speak. ‘Keep calm Abi. I know we can’t ignore the fact a piece of shit like him exists, but we mustn’t stoop to his level.’ She nodded her head towards Goddard and then grimaced.

 

Abi stepped further away and looked at Peter. ‘Laura needs medical attention. She has a nasty bump and wound on the back of her head.’ Abi glanced across. ‘Do you feel sick, Laura? It’s a sign of concussion.’

 

‘Yes, I feel sick. There’s something in the room making me feel that way.’

‘So, what do we do?’ Abi seemed calm again. She looked at Peter and then down at Goddard. ‘Do you have anything to say about all the things you’ve done — all the misery and the pain you caused?’

 

Goddard stared back at them. He said nothing.

‘The problem is,’ Peter started slowly and sighed, ‘the problem is that psychopaths – and that’s what he is – don’t have any empathy. They have no remorse. It’s all charm and charisma with him.’ He waved the pistol at Goddard. ‘Lies, betrayal, dishonesty – he doesn’t understand any of those things.’ Peter sighed again. ‘He’ll never apologise for anything, and he’ll never be cured. Never, ever say sorry to anyone. He plays people for his own satisfaction – to get what he wants. To hell with everyone. He’s a sinner that most likely can’t be saved.’

 

Goddard turned his head away and stared at the sideboard.

‘That’s what I said before – all that. He’s a piece of shit.’ Abi and Peter glanced at Laura, who was now seated upright in the chair. ‘I feel shitty myself, if I’m honest.’ Laura closed her eyes.

 

‘I really think we need to get her to the hospital. No matter what happens to him.’ Abi moved towards Laura and put a hand on her shoulder.

Peter nodded. ‘I agree. Do we call an ambulance or take his car?’

 

Abi looked at the floor – lost in thought for a few seconds - and then up at Peter. ‘The problem is, if we call an ambulance, we have to explain him. And why he’s been shot by a vicar. Although, I’m happy to take the blame for that. But if we take Laura ourselves, we must ignore – for now – that he’s here. Tell no-one. We can deal with him later.’

 

‘Later?’ Peter looked surprised. ‘What do you have in mind?’

‘I don’t know yet,’ she replied. ‘But we come back – whenever – and do whatever we decide to do.’

 

Peter shrugged. ‘OK, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll deal with it later.’

Goddard watched Peter help Laura to her feet.

‘I’ll try to find his car key,’ said Abi as she moved into the kitchen. ‘If I can’t find, shoot him again.’ She returned a few seconds later, holding the key aloft. ‘Hung up by the back door.’

 

Together, Peter and Abi checked Goddard’s wounds. He winced as they moved and touched him, but he didn’t struggle, and he didn’t speak. When they’d finished, Abi said. ‘Perhaps I should stay. Make sure he doesn’t get worse.’ She waited for Peter to respond.

‘I don’t know, Abi. I don’t trust him.’

 

‘What can he do? Where can he go? Besides, I’ll have the gun. You can leave it with me.’

‘You can handle a gun?’ Peter looked anxious. Abi shrugged.

‘Who knows?’ she replied. ‘But the threat would be enough.’ She looked at Goddard. ‘Wouldn’t it?’

 

The stricken man said nothing. He stared straight ahead – angry and humiliated; he was fast running out of energy. Increasing pain was hitting him hard.

‘OK,’ said Peter. He seemed resigned. ‘If that’s the best plan.’ He handed her Goddard’s gun.

‘And yours,’ she said. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea, do you? Going to the hospital with an injured woman and a gun?’

 

Peter nodded. ‘You’re right.’ He handed Abi his pistol; she handed him the car key before helping Laura outside to the car.

‘It’s so bloody cold,’ she murmured as he gently eased her into the passenger seat and helped her with the belt. He walked over to open the gate and then got into the car.

 

‘OK, let’s go.’ He looked across at Laura, head slumped to one side. Peter navigated the rutted track to the main road with care and then sped up along the empty road.

Back at the house, Abi over Goddard, holding his gun in one hand and Peter’s pistol in the other.

 

‘Do you have any remorse?’

He stared up at her but said nothing.

‘Do you understand how you hurt people? How badly you treat them?’

The stare continued.

Abi pursed her lips. ‘No regrets? Not one – nothing?’

He whispered. ‘Just one.’

 

‘Well, that’s something I suppose.’ She cocked her head. ‘Care to share.’

‘You.’ He hesitated. ‘You are my regret, Abi. Nobody reached me like you did. I actually got to liking you and you made me think... Think about the past.’

 

‘Wow. An epiphany. The old road to Damascus routine and all that. Amazing.’

‘Does that mean anything to you? I mean, that I care about you?’

Abi moved her arms. Holding the gun and pistol for so long was uncomfortable.

‘No, not really. I couldn’t give a damn. I wish you weren’t here. Perhaps dead in place of Maggie.’

 

Abi looked around the room. It included all the usual trappings of a home. Paintings, prints and photographs. But this was neatness at its best. Cushions were arranged on the settee. Potted plants were blooming. It was flawlessly maintained. She had a thought.

 

‘No one comes up to your expectations, do they? That’s your problem. That’s why you kill and hurt people, that’s why you abandon people. You have this sick idea of how everyone around you should behave to please you.’ She stretched out her arm and waved the gun at him. ‘And if they don’t, you move away or discard them. That’s why you moved here. To be on your own. I reckon you isolated yourself so you couldn’t hurt anyone else.’

 

Goddard looked away. She caught his words. ‘I tried,’ he whimpered.

Abi took a few paces around the room. She looked at the pictures and the photographs, all of which were of Goddard. On holiday. In the woods. Working. Relaxing.

‘Who took all the photos of you?’

 

‘I did. Tripod and timer. I like photography.’

‘You like yourself.’

‘I lived alone.’

 

‘But not always.’ Abi reminded him. She walked around the room again. ‘Do you have many more photos of yourself?’ She was mocking him now. ‘We could burn them all and drive away the evil spirit.’

 

‘Do what you fucking like,’ hissed Goddard, looking up at her.

Abi was standing over him again. ‘OK, I will.’

 

He was hit by the first shot in the middle of his forehead. The investigation that followed revealed that the shot killed him and caused most of the blood spatter. The next four shots – the coroner determined – seemed to be random, hitting different parts of the body. Two pistol wounds further complicated matters. These would not have been fatal.

 

The investigation in the days following a tip off to police was not straightforward. For a start, five days had passed since after the likely date and time of death. The house was ravaged by fire, and a car was also found burned out in the woods. No-one made a connection between the man and woman at the hospital and the scene of the crime. Why should they?

 

A handful of people attended Goddard’s funeral service at Lower Winden. Peter led the service. Laura sat with his sister, in front of a handful of regular churchgoers who always paid their respect on these occasions.

 

Others, who were not there to pay their respect but to observe, were in the church unseen and from other centuries. They are always there for deaths such as his, and always unseen with their number growing with each day of reckoning that passes in Upper and Lower Winden.

 

Hidden in the dark corner near the tower door, stood a scruffy man embraced by a raven-haired younger woman. Three women intertwined their hands. Others huddled around them. Some old, some young. Contemporary dress by the side of the period costume.

 

They stirred and smiled as Abi moved to take her place at their side.