The heat had built up around us like an eiderdown. Snug and cozy against the chill of the night outside.The rain had stopped. I don’t know when. But...somewhere, along the timeline of this night, that relentless torrent became an all but forgotten discomfort. It’s passing, now only a memory, recalled by the occasional drips of water tapping on the wooden deck and the breezes that whispered through the sparsely leafed tree limbs. The silence, that had settled around our little world, was soft and. .. before I met Martha. I do most of the cooking here, even when the Bishop came to dinner.”“I see. Well you are asking the wrong person. Do you know Mr. Ransome in All Saints congregation? He could probably tell you. He set up his own business and then fifteen years later sold it for many millions of pounds.”“Oh. Martha says he is a despicable man, and not to be trusted. I don’t know about asking him.”“He is most certainly not a despicable man. Martha hates him because she tried to humiliate. More

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