A Finer End

of Winnie’s accident, Nick felt a sharp jolt of relief. Cold, hunger, and common sense had driven him back to his caravan the previous evening, but he’d not been able to rid himself of a gnawing feeling of foreboding.
    ‘How — how is she?’ Nick asked.
    ‘Unconscious, but stable. They’ll let me in to see her again soon,’ Jack told him.
    ‘Is there anything I can do?’
    ‘Let the others know, if you can. I’ll ring you if there’s any... change.’ Jack’s voice had wavered and Nick sensed the control it took him to keep it steady.
    ‘Right. I — I’m sorry, Jack.’ Unable to find anything more adequate to say, Nick hung up. He stood, then flipped the sign on the shop door and locked it as he left. He would tell Faith, but not on the telephone.
    He found her ladling pumpkin soup into bowls, the scent of cinnamon and spices combating the dankness in the café. Next door in the shop, Buddy was on the phone, the murmur of his voice an underlying accompaniment to the Gregorian chant playing over the sound system.
    When Faith had served her customers, Nick leaned over the bar and whispered urgently, ‘Have you heard about Winnie?’
    For the first time since he’d entered, Faith looked at him directly. Colour drained from her already wan face. ‘Winnie?’
    ‘She was on her bike last night, in Bulwarks Lane. Someone hit her. She’s in hospital, unconscious.’
    ‘Wh-what?’ Gripping the serving bar, Faith gave a dazed little shake of her head. ‘That’s not possible. She was here— Oh!’ Her eyes widened. ‘We saw her, after. I could’ve sworn she said she was going to Jack’s, but she was pushing her bike up the lane.’
    ‘We?’
    ‘Garnet and I. On our way home. Winnie was turning into Lypatt Lane—’
    ‘It must have happened right afterwards, then. You didn’t see anything — or anyone else, did you?’
    ‘No,’ whispered Faith. ‘But Garnet — Garnet went out again, in the van. Maybe she... when she came back... she was...’
    ‘She was what?’
    ‘I don’t know. Odd. She didn’t want to talk to me, or help me study. She went into her office and closed the door.’
    Nick’s heart began to race. ‘Faith.’ He leaned over the bar until his face was inches from hers. ‘Go home as soon as you can. Check the bumper on the van. But don’t let Garnet see you do it.’
    ‘What are you talking about? Why should I—’ She stared at him, two bright spots of colour flaming on her pale cheeks. ‘You don’t think Garnet had something to do with Winnie’s accident? You’re crazy. Nick! I won’t! I won’t even think such a thing!’
    Several customers looked up from their meals at the sound of rising hysteria in her voice.
    ‘It’s only taking logical precautions,’ he whispered. ‘You must see that. What can it—’
    ‘Get out, Nick!’ she shouted at him. Tin not listening to you, so just get the bloody hell out!’
    Flushing under the fascinated stares of the cafe’s diners, Nick had no choice but to leave.
     
    Garnet heard about Winnie from a customer, the vicar of the church on the edge of Salisbury Plain. The ecclesiastical community was a small one, and news travelled fast. She had finished installing her tiles, then driven back to Glastonbury and the sanctuary of her workshop, her mind working furiously all the while.
    Winnie was lying in hospital, more likely to die than live, if the vicar’s information were correct.
    In spite of the heat radiating from the wood-fired kiln Garnet was shivering with cold, and the midday sun falling in a bright block across the threshold of the barn door beckoned. Taking her stool, she moved it into the sun and sat there gratefully.
    The weight of regrets, past and present, lay heavily upon her. There were so many things she had meant to do, so many things she had hoped to accomplish; now suddenly she saw the years remaining to her dwindling to a pinpoint, then blinking futilely out — as had a child’s life, so many years ago.
    But Faith — and Faith’s child — had given her an unlooked-for chance at redemption.
    By her calculations, Faith would give birth on Samhain, 31 October, All Hallows’ Eve, the day when the veil between the worlds was at its thinnest. The Tor had drawn the girl from the beginning — that was why she had come to the café, and to Garnet. Such a birth in such a place would open a gateway, unleash ancient powers that could_ wreak havoc beyond imagining. Once, Garnet had thought she could