Chapter Twenty-TwoSilence settled over Crows Hill Church, broken only by the sounds of small birds twitching in the trees and the muffled crunch of twigs beneath Felix and Harriet’s school shoes. The air was cold, the soil springy with water and slime. Ancient gravestones guided them through the grounds where it was almost possible to hear the church, ringing with early hymns, to taste the rigours of religion on their tongues; the hallowed heart of Crows Hill, guarded by grey angels and their cherubim children.
“It’s so peaceful here,” said Harriet, ducking under branches and dragging her hands across the gravestones. “And private. When I come here I feel like I’m the only person in the whole world.”
“Now there’s two of us,” said Felix, following behind her.
She turned as she ducked ben
