Purely medicinal

"Thing is," continued Alice, "they aren't buying the church to sell it, Adam. They're buying it for themselves."

Having thought he'd got a handle on the situation, this didn't seem to make any sense to Adam. "But why..?" he asked, his voice trailing off.

"As far as we can tell, Mr Hewson and his cronies are The Church of The New Word."

Chuckling at the perplexed look on Adam's face, she went on: "yes, I know. Strange, isn't it? Didn't seem to make sense to us, but it looks like there's no other possible explanation. We don't know much more than that; in fact, your grandmother's off trying to dig up some more information right now. We're hoping she's going to be in touch soon..."

Alice broke off, looking thoughtful.

Margaret was the first to fill the silence, saying "right. Who's hungry, then? Don't know about the rest of you, but I'm famished. My belly thinks my throat's cut. Help me get the tea on, Edith - none of us are going anywhere tonight."

She opened one of the cupboards, pulling out a dusty bottle of brandy. "But first, I think, a small drink to settle the nerves. What do you say?" she asked, not waiting for an answer. As she glugged the amber liquid into tumblers, she said "I always knew this would come in handy in an emergency."

Alice tutted, mock-disapprovingly. "Aye, regular Saint Bernard, you are."



Story starts here.