Dreaming of the Bones
“Gemma dressed with particular care, in a black skirt and matching short jacket, and took the time to plait her hair.She’d spent the remainder of the previous afternoon walking round Cambridge, familiarizing herself with the city and its colleges, and returning home late had found a message from Kincaid on her answer phone. He’d given her the details of the funeral and asked her to ring back, but she hadn’t done so.What she had to say needed to be said face-to-face, not on the telephone, and so she had arrived early in Grantchester, intending to wait for him at the church. She found a parking spot on the High Street, below Vic’s cottage, and as she climbed out she took a deep breath to clear her head of the sun-induced stuffiness of the drive. The day had warmed enough that she was able to leave her coat in the car, and the air held the unmistakable softness of spring.From where she stood, she could see the church tower rising above the trees, and much to her disappointment, its clock ...did not stand at ten to three as in Rupert Brooke’s poem.MoreLess
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