Sidney Chambers and The Shadow of Death (The Grantchester Mysteries)

was sleeping, and unaware of how she looked to the world, he had never felt so fond of her.
    He began to pray.
    ‘O Lord, look down from heaven, behold, visit and relieve this Thy servant. Look upon her with the eyes of Thy mercy, give her comfort and sure confidence in Thee, defend her from the danger of the enemy, and keep her in perpetual peace and safety, through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.’
    He prayed in certain hope of an answer. Prayer was an act of will, Sidney thought; a discipline that had to be learned and practised.
    He put his hand on Amanda’s.
    It was so slender.
    He gave it a gentle squeeze and hoped for a response but none came.
    He looked down at her pale face.
    He spoke aloud. ‘The Lord bless thee and keep thee. The Lord make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee, and give thee peace, both now and evermore. Amen.’
    He kissed her forehead. He kissed her bruised cheek. He laid his hand on hers once more.
    Then he stood up and walked towards the door.
    He took a last look and left her sleeping.
    As he left the building he saw Inspector Keating coming towards him carrying a bunch of Michaelmas daisies.
    ‘Cathy was on a walk with the children and they picked them for Miss Kendall. But you’ve already taken her some roses, I’ll bet.’
    ‘I thought I would wait.’
    ‘Then I will tell her they are from both of us.’
    ‘She’s sleeping.’
    ‘I’ll just leave them with the nurse.’
    ‘I have to return for Evensong, Geordie. I don’t suppose you’d like to join me afterwards?’
    ‘I need to get back to the station.’
    ‘I understand.’
    When Keating arrived in the room he found that Amanda was beginning to stir. ‘Are those flowers for me?’ she asked.
    ‘Of course . . .’
    ‘How long have I been asleep?’
    ‘I do not know.’
    ‘Could I please have some water?’
    ‘I will get some for you,’ Inspector Keating replied. ‘And I will find a vase for the flowers.’
    ‘Has Sidney been here?’ Amanda asked.
    ‘He has just left.’
    ‘I thought I heard his voice. I dreamed that he was holding my hand and praying for me . . .’
    ‘I am sure he was.’
    ‘Do you think so?’
    ‘He prays for us all.’
    ‘Even the man who kidnapped me?’
    ‘Probably.’
    ‘What happened to him?’
    Inspector Keating sat down on the end of the bed. ‘He is in our custody.’
    ‘Will I have to tell you everything he did?’
    ‘Not now.’
    ‘But eventually?’
    ‘You can tell me everything that you feel able to tell me. Or we can provide a female police officer. It will be in confidence.’
    ‘It could have been so much worse, I suppose.’
    ‘Yes,’ Inspector Keating said quietly. ‘It could.’
    ‘Should I tell Sidney?’
    ‘If you would like to. He did see you in the house. And he knows that at least . . .’
    ‘I wasn’t raped or murdered?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Then perhaps that is enough. Let’s not talk about that.’
    ‘You were incredibly brave.’
    ‘And foolish. What has happened to the painting?’
    ‘We have returned it to Lord Teversham.’
    ‘Was he pleased?’
    ‘Very much so. He told me that he is going to invite you to lunch as soon as you are better. I think he is planning a surprise for you; a little thank you. But you do not need to think about that now.’
    ‘And my parents . . .’
    ‘They are on their way.’
    ‘What have you told them?’
    ‘As much as they need to know.’
    ‘I’m so tired.’
    ‘You must rest. Cathy is going to bring in something she’s baked. She thinks the food in the hospital may not be up to your usual standards. Sidney has told me that you take a sorry view of the catering facilities on offer in Cambridge.’
    ‘It is because I am spoilt.’
    ‘Or perhaps because you have high standards?’
    ‘Let’s just say I am spoilt.’
    ‘Sidney has been worried about you. As have we all.’
    ‘He’s such a dear man.’
    ‘He is, and I know he thinks the world of you.’
    Amanda turned her bruised face away from the inspector. ‘I think it must be hard being a clergyman. You can never do enough for people. But you have a calling and that is what it is. Sidney once told me; “I did not choose. I was chosen.” It’s quite hard to love a man who will always love God more.’
    ‘Perhaps it’s a different love . . .’
    ‘I don’t know what it is, Inspector. I try not to think about it.’
    ‘Some things are best left unsaid.’
    ‘What we have is friendship and I do not want to do anything