4.5
She went back to Scratton, following a route that had come alive in the short time she was in the church, wending her way past people strolling about, dodging the jugglers and fire spinners entertaining a raggle taggle of parents and children with painted faces, and an athletic man on a unicycle struggling over the rough terrain.
Heather was sitting out on the veranda. She looked up and said, ‘Have a good wander?’
‘I’ve been to the chapel.’
‘How was it?’
‘Austere.’
Heather’s smile left her face.
Yvette went on. ‘The festival crowd seem oblivious to this setting.’
‘I’m sure they’re not.’
‘Really?’ Yvette felt her anger rise. ‘I think the festival masks the history of this place with its gaiety.’
‘It might be healing.’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Yvette, you need to chill.’
Yvette knew s
