‘No, not that. What did you say about the moon?’
‘Loon moon.’ Bree was smiling through her tears. ‘It’s something I remember from my childhood. If Stan and I weren’t taking cover in the same shelter, or were somehow apart, wherever we were, we used to look up at the sky and pray that each other was safe. Last night, I couldn’t see the moon. The sky was dark and heavy with snow so there wasn’t a chink of light to be seen. I prayed for Stan and wished him goodnight.’
The words were washing over Molly. ‘Loon moon,’ she whispered under her breath. The memory that flooded back to her in that moment was so clear it felt like yesterday. Immediately, Molly was transported back to the dingy flat in the past. She was standing on a blue crate, her mum standing beside her. Through the grimy window her mum was pointing to the stars and the moon. ‘You are as lovely as the moon … loon moon.’ Molly gave herself a little shake. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to remember. In her mind, she heard the door slam in the stairwell, footsteps thudding as her mum would hurry her to the mattress in the corner of the room. Her mum encouraging her to pretend she was asleep as the flat door swung open.
‘A childhood memory, you said?’ asked Molly, her heart beating fast.
Bree smiled and nodded. ‘Mum used to say I was as lovely as the moon. She used to say if we were ever apart then I should look up at the moon and I would know she was always with me. Stan and I did the same.’
Molly could feel the thump in her heart race faster. She cradled her stomach then realised her hands were shaking. She knew she was staring at Bree but couldn’t help it.
‘And your mum used to say that?’
Bree nodded.
In a daze, Molly stood up. ‘I’ll get us a drink.’ Walking into the kitchen, Molly took a deep breath and shut the door behind her. With her pulse racing she placed her hands on the Belfast sink. ‘It’s not possible,’ she murmured. Her thoughts were spiralling out of control. Was this a coincidence? Trying to compose herself, Molly made Bree a drink and plated up a sausage and bacon sandwich from the Aga.
‘Are you having anything to eat?’ asked Bree, when Molly handed her the plate.
Molly shook her head. ‘I’m just going to nip out, I won’t be long. After you’ve finished eating, have a bath, I’ll leave you some towels and one of my own tracksuits in the bathroom, so you’ve got something clean and warm to change into.’
‘Thank you,’ replied Bree, watching Molly heading out of the living room.
Five minutes later, Molly’s stomach was performing a double somersault as she fastened her coat and pushed her feet back into her snow boots. Winding her scarf around her neck she popped her head into the bakery kitchen and smiled. George was standing on a small step-ladder so he could reach the worktop and was wearing Cam’s hat as he scooped out chocolate from the bowl with a spatula.
‘Look at you pair.’
Cam looked up from kneading a loaf and swiped his hands of flour. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked, noticing Molly was wearing her coat.
‘I’ve just got to nip out.’
‘Again? Its freezing out there. The Met Office aren’t issuing weather warnings for no reason.’
‘I won’t be long.’ Molly didn’t elaborate as she was having trouble trying to process her thoughts, never mind trying to explain what she thought she could possibly know.
She pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘I won’t be long, promise.’
‘Is it important?’
‘Possibly. Bree is having a bath and I’ve left her clothes to change into. I’ll explain later.’
Puzzled, Cam narrowed his eyes at Molly, but before he could say anything else, the bakery door had shut behind her.
In no time at all, Molly was trudging through the snow. Running on adrenalin, she barely noticed the bitter cold stinging her cheeks and within minutes she was back standing in front of the wrought-iron gates of the churchyard. The graveyard was still deserted and Molly hadn’t passed a soul on the way to the church, which she was grateful for as her insides were twisting and she didn’t want to make polite conversation with anyone. For a brief moment she looked up at the sky and with jumbled thoughts she pushed open the gate. Passing Bree’s mother’s grave, she paused, then, taking a deep breath, she walked into the church.
Out of the corner of her eye Molly spotted the vicar standing in the vestry along with Florence, his wife, who was holding the largest bunch of colourful artificial blooms that Molly had ever seen. Hearing footsteps they both turned and Molly was met with a warm smile.
‘It’s been cancelled,’ said the vicar. ‘But any tombola prizes you can leave in the back room of the church.’
‘Oh, the Scout fundraiser, I wasn’t here for that. Do you by any chance have a moment?’
‘There is a God!’ he joked as his wife playfully swiped his arm. ‘You’ve just rescued me from … actually that doesn’t matter. What can I do for you?’ The vicar gestured towards a room at the back. ‘This way, it’s warmer in there.’
Molly peeled off her gloves as she followed the vicar towards the small room at the back of the church, his traditional robe floating behind him as he walked. There were various candles lit around the room and Molly took in the aroma of incense. The electric fire in the corner was emitting a lovely warmth that Molly was grateful for, and though the room was small it was impressive. Books lined the shelves of one wall and the stained-glass window was a beautiful feature, letting in the light just in front of his desk.
‘Have a seat,’ the vicar said, gesturing to a chair as he sat down behind the desk. ‘What can I do for you?”
‘I’m looking for a dead person,’ Molly blurted, then realised exactly how that sounded.
