‘I’d offer to go, but I’m sure as soon as she saw me, she would bolt. But I will go if you want me to?’
Molly was shaking her head. ‘It’s best left to me.’
She couldn’t stop wondering why Bree would choose to be sitting in the cemetery instead of a warm café or even the library. But then she realised that staff would find it difficult to travel today, so maybe nothing was open and there was nowhere to go.
‘Gloves, hat,’ said Cam and as soon as they were pulled on Molly was walking through the bakery door. As she glanced back at Cam and waved, he gave her an encouraging smile.
Thankfully it was only a short walk to the church and despite the storm and the freezing temperatures Heartcross Mountain looked majestic covered in glistening snow. The duckpond was completely frozen as Molly trudged over the wooden bridge and made her way up the crest of the hill towards the church. The weathered wrought-iron gates were laden with icicles, creating an impressive entrance to the graveyard, though the ornamental statue had been broken in the blizzard and was lying on its side. Usually, one could see the paved footpath between the graves and the well-maintained gardens, but with the inches of snow that had fallen overnight it was hard to make out the pathway.
Molly’s eyes darted around the graveyard but it was deserted and Bree was nowhere to be seen. She glanced across to the bench to see that the snow had been swiped away and there were a couple of church pew cushions lying on top. Someone had definitely been sitting on it. As Molly continued to follow what she hoped was the path towards the entrance of the church, she passed her own parents’ grave. Many tears had been shed standing in front of the snow-covered headstone, but being here always gave her some sort of comfort and every time she had a bit of family news, good or bad, she would find herself telling all to her parents. Brushing the snow from the headstone she read the inscription out loud.
In loving memory of Douglas McKendrick
and his beloved wife Diane
Reunited at last
Treasured parents of Molly McKendrick
She took a moment and murmured that she loved them. With the cold air stinging her cheeks and her hands growing numb, she hurried towards the door of the church, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. Someone had definitely been here as she could see a pair of footprints embedded in the snow heading towards the church door. She read the note pinned up outside saying all sermons had been cancelled until further notice. The clock struck nine a.m. and an eerie silence echoed all around as Molly turned the wrought-iron knob and the creaky door opened.
The church was stone cold. Stepping into the nave, Molly shivered and was immediately hit by the aroma of polish as she slowly walked down the aisle between the wooden pews. The lights were dimmed and there were no candles lit as she cast her gaze up at Jesus on the cross before looking around the silent room once more.
‘Bree,’ Molly called out but there was no answer. She continued to walk towards the altar and glanced up to the wooden pulpit where the local vicar would deliver his sermon.
Her hopes faded as she concluded that there was no one here. She must have missed Bree by a matter of minutes. She wracked her brains as to where she would go next – possibly the library, maybe the village hall? Molly sighed and turned to walk back down the aisle then stopped in her tracks. On the front pew was an empty can and a scrunched-up white paper bag with The Old Bakehouse logo. Her heart was thumping as she quickly walked up the aisle checking every pew. Bree had been here and no doubt had taken cover in the church overnight but where was she now? Hearing a cough, Molly spun round and quickly followed the sound through the chancel arch. That’s when she noticed a figure cocooned tightly in a blanket and huddled up in a foetal position, trying to keep warm on a bed of pew cushions.
‘Bree, is that you?’
Bree’s startled eyes peered over the top of the blanket. Molly noticed that her lips were tinged with blue, her teeth chattering. The poor girl must be frozen to the absolute core.
With a sudden movement, Bree threw off the blanket. Clambering to her feet, she attempted to run, her eyes never leaving Molly’s as she reached for her bag.
‘No, Bree, wait. It’s okay.’ Molly’s voice was desperate. She didn’t want Bree running off, heading back out into the snow. ‘I promise you it’s okay. We know that Ash took the phone by mistake and we are so sorry.’
Her words echoed around the church and Bree stared at Molly through wide hazel eyes but didn’t speak.
‘Honestly, it’s fine.’ Molly had her arms stretched out in front of her with her hands wide open – the international sign of ‘I come in peace’. ‘Please. I just need to make sure you’re okay.’
The uncertainty was clear in Bree’s eyes; she didn’t know whether to trust Molly.
‘Have you slept here?’ asked Molly, her voice soft.
Bree nodded.
‘It’s freezing in here.’ Molly could see her own breath as she wrapped her arms around her body and dug her chin under her scarf for a moment. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday, and that we didn’t give you a chance to explain.’
All Molly wanted to do was get Bree out of there into a warm place. She watched as Bree’s lips began to tremble. ‘Please come with me … please.’
Bree was still staring at her like a rabbit caught in the headlights and Molly wasn’t sure whether she was going to attempt to make a run for it or not.
‘I’m not here to cause any sort of trouble. You look frozen to the core and I just want to get you to somewhere warm. Would you like that?’
Bree nodded, a tear slipping down her face, leaving a streak in the dirt.
‘Hungry?’ asked Molly.
Bree hesitated, then nodded.
