The Guardian Stones by Eric Reed Page B

happening here in Noddweir.”
    â€œI’m sure you do, Grandma.” Grace sounded tired. “Come along, it’s getting late.”
    â€œHer suspicions are probably as good as any Tom Green has,” Susannah put in. “I’ve never seen anyone so hopeless at their job, unless it’s the vicar.”
    â€œThe vicar does the best he can,” Grace pointed out, “Consider how ill he is. He’s never recovered his full strength.”
    â€œAt least he has some excuse,” Susannah admitted. “What’s Tom Green’s? Why is he bumbling around Noddweir rather than shooting at Germans? Not that he’d hit any.”
    â€œHe hasn’t confided in me, I’m pleased to say.”
    Susannah’s narrow lips threatened to smile.
    â€œNeither of them’s worse than Issy’s father,” Martha growled. “A Johnny-knock-softly, he is.”
    â€œHe may be a bit idle but at least he doesn’t spout supernatural nonsense,” Susannah responded.
    â€œI hope you don’t think that of me and the vicar,” Martha retorted.
    â€œIf the hat fits, wear it,” Susannah replied.
    Edwin kept quiet, feeling abashed, as if he were listening in on a domestic conversation that was none of his business. Which, in fact, was the case.
    â€œOh, I’m sorry,” Grace said. “Have you met Professor Carpenter? I almost forgot to introduce you. It seems like he’s a villager already. He’s here to study our local customs. His wife taught school too.”
    Edwin and Susannah made the usual polite acknowledgements. Standing straight as a soldier at attention, with her cropped battleship gray hair, a cigarette between her thin lips, Susannah looked formidable. She must have kept her students in a perpetual state of terror, the opposite to Elise’s approach.
    Martha stood reluctantly. The cat, dislodged from her lap, hit the floor with a loud thump and cast a malevolent gaze around the kitchen.
    While Martha gathered up her plants, Susannah spoke quietly to Grace. “I saw Martha at church this morning. She looked pretty sprightly. Are you sure she’s in as poor health as she lets on?”
    â€œShe has good days and bad, like all of us. Her mind’s less reliable than her legs.”
    Susannah studied the end of her cigarette. “Is she taking advantage of your good nature, Grace, letting you wait on her hand and foot? She’s family, I know.”
    Grace shrugged. “You heard her, saying someone was calling her. You said she was talking to herself in the street. What can I do? She isn’t fit to live by herself.”
    â€œNo, I suppose not.”
    Martha finally joined them, moving unsteadily. “Are you sure I didn’t bring my hat?”
    â€œYes, Grandma.”
    When they went out the door Susannah followed. “I told Emily I’d check up on her.” She dropped her cigarette butt on the garden path. “Emily keeps telling me I ought to give up the habit. That’s what I told my students when I caught them at it. They didn’t listen to me, and I don’t listen to Emily. Anyway, the shape the world’s in these days, we may as well enjoy ourselves as much as we can.” Her gaze moved to Edwin. “Nice to meet you, Professor. I’m sorry you had to find Issy’s dress. Not a very pleasant introduction to our little village. Be careful.”
    ***
    Edwin opened his eyes in the dark, disoriented. He lay on his back, seeing only blackness. Once he was awake, it took him several seconds to remember he was in a strange room in an English village and not in his own bedroom in Rochester.
    A throbbing noise made the air vibrate. He could almost feel it inside his head.
    Is that what had awakened him?
    â€œEdwin, are you awake?” Grace rapped at his door “There are planes coming.”
    He muttered an acknowledgement.
    He should have recognized the sound immediately, the