Such Crooked Wood

I found her in the workshop gazing up at the mosaic ceiling in awe, revolving slowly to get the full effect. The uninhibited grin on her face was entrancing, and she caught me looking when she finally lowered her chin. We both blushed, although she managed to speak while I struggled to think straight.

‘This was your uncle again?’

I coughed. ‘Yeah. The roof was blown off in the war. When Will took it on, he wanted to keep that effect but make it more colourful – he liked colour. So, he worked with one of his mates to install the ceiling with bits of coloured glass no one else wanted. It’s held up pretty well.’

‘It gives the whole place a gloss, doesn’t it?’ Bridget said, glancing around at all the furniture stuffed into the nave. ‘Everything feels deeper, as if you’re looking at it through a new lens.’

I rested my palm on the nearest piece, an oak tallboy stencilled with sparrows. ‘It does.’

‘It’s incredible what you do with these things, you know. It brings life back to them.’

‘Ironic, considering the crypt downstairs.’

Bridget’s expression flickered. ‘I didn’t think of that.’