Screaming Yellow by Rachel Green

Author:Rachel Green [Green, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Social Science, Gay Studies
ISBN: 9781291216035
Google: tQdyngEACAAJ
Amazon: 1291216030
Barnesnoble: 1291216030
Goodreads: 9369123
Publisher: lulu.com
Published: 2010-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Meinwen was halfway down the road by the time Simon caught up with her. “Insufferable people.” She glared at him. “They close ranks against outsiders like an arsehole against a finger.”

Simon coughed. “I say! I am still a priest, you know.”

“Sorry.” Meinwen waved her Guide to Laverstone. “I don’t want to go through the woods today. Show me a bit more of the town instead.”

“If you like, though avoiding the woodland path adds a further fifteen minutes of walking. We’ll have to travel right to the opposite end of the park then double back to get to the east gate.”

“Are you afraid of a little extra walking?”

“Hardly.” Simon led her a different way, pointing out the boat house and the miniature railway station, closed at present, and as they left by the eastern gate, the old Dillon’s Fabrication plant, a building left derelict by the steel industry collapse in the eighties.

“They seem a little reticent about helping you with this investigation.” Simon fell a step behind when they at last turned into their road and Meinwen’s mood brightened.

“More than a little,” Meinwen replied. “Each of them thinks that their little secret is important. In normal times it probably is, but against the backdrop of a murder it all pales to insignificance.”

Simon nodded. “Unless one of them is the murderer.”

Meinwen paused. “Exactly. That’s the secret I would understand them keeping, though it will be out in the end. Hugin will tell me.”

“Who?” Simon dug his hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out a string of rosary beads. He kept it in his hand as they talked, fingers stroking the jade beads.

“Hugin, one of Odin’s ravens, named for thought.”

“Oh. Those blasted birds again.”

“Of course.” Meinwen walked on. “The Goddess gave me an omen to reassure me that I would find the truth. Hugin’s feather.”

“Omens. What nonsense you believe, Meinwen. There are no omens, just serendipitous occurrences you can interpret to mean whatever you like.”

Meinwen laughed. “You’re a priest and you don’t believe in omens?”

“Of course not. God has no need to give us such things, they are an abomination.”

“That old chestnut again.” Meinwen smiled. “Deuteronomy this time, I believe?”

Simon nodded.

“I thought we’d established that the Old Testament was outdated? What if the three astrologers from the East had taken that view? The birthday party of Jesus would have been a small affair.” Meinwen patted Simon’s shoulder. “Admit it. The church changes its mind with the seasons.”

“Hardly.” Simon clutched the cross on the end of the beads. “I’d be defrocked if I disagreed with doctrine, whatever my personal opinion.”

“Can you honestly say you’ve never had a feeling of impending doom?” Meinwen asked.

Simon shrugged. “I’d be lying if I did, but I think of that as an angel’s warning, not an omen.”

“Just as I do.” Meinwen smiled again. “Angels are supernatural beings in any theology. Just because I don’t have the mental image of a winged eunuch in a white robe doesn’t make my belief in them any less real.”

“I’m glad we agree on something at least.

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