‘Yes, definitely a mixed bag … a few anxious parents, a farmer who was obnoxious and … oh yes, the local policeman.’

‘Policeman?’ questioned Florence with a hint of concern.

‘Yes,’ said Lily. She stared down at a few stray tea leaves in the bottom of her cup … and smiled.

Chapter Two

The Harvest Bicycle

Pale shafts of early-morning sunshine lit up the back road from Kirkby Steepleton to Ragley and Lily felt a sense of freedom as she sped along on her new bicycle. At dawn an autumnal mist had descended like an undertaker’s shroud over the plain of York. However, now only patches remained and Lily slowed as she approached each bend.

Made of steel, her bicycle was a modern Raleigh, painted bright red and with state-of-the-art technology – namely, a three-speed Sturmey-Archer gear hub. Her handbag and gloves were nestled neatly in the saddle bag and the children’s books she had marked the previous evening were in the straw basket attached to the handlebars. It was Friday, 26 September and a busy day lay ahead. The annual Harvest Festival had arrived for the folk of Ragley village and there was much to do.

As she approached a copse of sycamores on a sharp bend there was still a hazy view of the distant fields. In spite of the mist a fine day beckoned and, with the breeze in her hair, Lily felt a sense of adventure. The last field was being harvested, marking the end of another season, and over the hawthorn hedgerow the sinuous motion of the ripe corn was a living rhythm of burnished gold. Lily had quickly grown to love this corner of ‘God’s Own Country’, as the locals called it, and she breathed in the sharp moist air.

In spite of the fact that Lily’s mother had protested vehemently, saying it was dangerous for a young woman to cycle on lonely roads, her bicycle was proving ideal for Lily’s journey to school. When the winter weather and dark nights returned she would, she had decided, catch the local bus, but for now she was enjoying her new-found freedom.

Suddenly a large rusty vehicle hurtled round the bend on the wrong side of the road straight towards her and Lily took evasive action. Her front wheel crashed into the hedge and she toppled headlong over the handlebars.

Through the leaded windows of the vicarage a shaft of sunshine pierced the mist and lit up the entrance hall as Vera prepared to leave for school. She checked her appearance in the hall mirror, smoothed her skirt and fingered the Victorian brooch above the top button of her silk blouse.