The Unseen(112)

‘I almost drove right by you! This is the main road – are you sure this is the right place?’

‘Yes, I’m sure. It’s probably best if you pull off here – there’s parking just a little way up that street,’ Mark said as a lorry squeezed past, narrowly missing her rear bumper.

‘OK, hang on a second.’ She pulled back out into the traffic, got more angry gestures and honks, and followed Mark’s instructions.

As she walked back to where he was waiting, she studied the building that had been The Bluecoat School. Now she came to look at it closely, it stuck out like a sore thumb. It was clearly ancient. A tiny, ancient building with ochre plastered walls and a steeply pitched roof, its shape echoed by the porch over the main door. The stone mullion windows were boarded up, the glass blank; a door in the side wall was barely five feet high, and there were several vacant niches around the walls.

‘But – this must be a chapel, surely?’ Leah asked, as she came to stand next to Mark.

‘Correct. A very old one – almost certainly the oldest building in Thatcham, possibly one of the oldest in Berkshire. Originally the chapel of St Thomas, it was used as an auxiliary school building for years, and then as an antiques shop. Now the council own it, have fixed it up and are wondering what to do with it,’ he said. Leah glanced at him and smiled.

‘You seem to know a lot about it.’

‘That headmaster pointed me to the website,’ Mark admitted.

‘And he thought this was where she would have taught?’

‘He said it was the most likely candidate. It was used as a kind of overflow classroom for the local charitable school, which would have been the most likely to need volunteers like the vicar’s wife to fill in teaching gaps.’

‘But … what about the main school buildings? Couldn’t she just as easily have taught there?’

‘Yes. But this place has one crucial advantage.’

‘Which is?’

‘It’s still standing. The rest of the old school buildings were pulled down to make way for new housing between the wars.’

‘Bugger.’

‘Quite. But at least there’s a chance that this is the place she was talking about – where she hid whatever incriminating evidence it was she’d found.’ He shrugged.

‘I suppose so. Can we go inside?’

‘It’s locked,’ Mark said, with a shake of his head. ‘The caretaker should be here any minute – he’s agreed to show us around. I told him we’re researching a book on ancient chapels, so make sure you act like a scholar.’

‘What did you tell him that for? You could have just told the truth.’

‘I thought this would sound better. And I didn’t want to say we might want to pull up the floorboards and look underneath them. Besides … it’s more fun this way,’ Mark grinned.

‘You really have been living quietly lately, haven’t you?’ Leah said, wryly. Mark shrugged amiably. ‘Pulling up the floor might be a tricky one. We’ll have to think of a way to see if there are any loose boards … perhaps I could ask for a tour of the outside and leave you inside to check it out, or something?’ she suggested.

‘Excellent! It’s like we’re going undercover,’ Mark said.

‘I think you might be getting a bit carried away.’

‘Possibly. This is probably him now – the caretaker. Don’t forget, you’re a scholar and an expert on ancient chapels.’

‘Got it.’

As she spoke, a thin man in a dark blue cagoule appeared, walking briskly around the corner, slumped into a kind of apologetic cringe. He came towards them with his hand extended in front of him like a white flag on a pole. The caretaker’s name was Kevin Knoll; younger than Leah had expected, and blinking like a mole in the spring sunshine. His light brown eyes watered behind thick pebble glasses. His mouth was small, his nose pointed. His whole face and body appeared gripped by some terrible anxiety, but he smiled readily enough as they introduced themselves.

‘Well, I’m sure you’re itching to get inside. It’s such a joy to meet people who still care about these places,’ he said, glancing rapidly to and fro between them. ‘Chapels like this are so quint-essentially English, to me. They represent so much of our history.’

‘Oh, I … couldn’t agree more,’ Leah said, as she followed Kevin to the front door of the building and waited impatiently as he fumbled with the keys. ‘So, I imagine you know a great deal about the history of this building? Its uses over the years?’ she asked. The key clunked in the lock, and the door swung open.