‘Oh, I’ve just had breakfast, thank you.’
‘But you’ll have a cup of tea, won’t you?’
‘Thank you. That would be – nice.’
He took the seat she offered at a neatly laid kitchen table.
‘It’s a long time since I had any dealings with a vicar,’ said Lyn conversationally, plugging in the kettle and taking mugs from a tree.
‘You weren’t married in the village church then?’
‘Dear me, no. Register office job. Second marriage for both of us, you see.’
‘You’re divorced from Mr Witts?’
She turned around and stared at him, perfectly plucked eyebrows raised.
‘Mr Witts is dead this nine years come September. Why would you mention him?’
‘I know you’re Evie Witts’ grandmother. I’ve come to talk to you about her.’
Lyn poured boiling water into the teapot with expert care, then put on the lid and the cosy and placed it on the table.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I know you’ve been taking an interest in our Evie.’
Her lush lips were pursed, pressing layers of high-shine gloss together.
‘A pastoral interest.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘She is a –’ He halted, casting around for something that wouldn’t sound lecherous. ‘A very interesting young woman.’
‘Yes, she is.’ Lyn poured the tea. ‘Interesting and talented and, what’s more, what’s everything in this world, she’s free.’
‘Her mother says you’ve always been close.’
‘That’s right. She’s the apple of my eye. I won’t hear a word said against her, vicar, so –’
‘I haven’t come here to speak ill of her. Not at all. But I wonder what has made her what she is.’
‘That’s easily answered, vicar. It’s her blood. She’s an enchantress who can captivate men and women alike with a click of her fingers. It’s hard to believe, looking at me now, but I used to be like that.’
‘Not hard to believe at all,’ said Adam truthfully.
‘Well, bless your gallantry, but all that’s behind me now. I live peacefully and I keep myself to myself. Ken and I appreciate our quiet life.’
‘While Evie’s taken on the carnival and chaos that you bequeathed her.’
‘I can’t make bequests,’ snapped Lyn. ‘I’m not dead.’
‘All the same, Evie’s proclivities seem to have skipped over a generation, directly from you to her. Lyn, don’t you think she’s damaging herself? Don’t you worry that she’ll – burn out?’
‘Better to burn out than fade away,’ quoted Lyn snarkily. ‘Our Evie’s a beautiful beacon of light in this world. If she chooses to spread that light around, good for her. That’s what I say.’
‘But …’
‘But nothing, vicar. It’s perfectly plain what your agenda is. You’re besotted with her and you want to snatch her from the world and hide her away. Just like … Oh, never mind.’