Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [617]
She smiled to herself. Thinking about Kersey relaxed her – a good sign.
As for the American.
She felt her heart miss a beat. The train was coming.
He came straight towards her. How sunburnt he was. To an older woman’s eyes, his creased, tanned skin was even better looking than that of the unlined young pilot she had known before. His blue eyes were positively startling. But as he held his hand out, the grin was the same.
“Recognised you at once.” He turned. “This is my youngest daughter Maggie.”
A fair-haired, blue-eyed girl of eighteen, the same height as she was and with a powerful handshake. She was carrying a grip.
“So,” Adam Shockley remarked, “you said today would be a good day to visit.”
“A very special day. Come to the car though. We must hurry to park.”
They went to the small carpark near Crane Street bridge, on the west side of the river, only a short walk from the close.
Then she led him over the bridge.
She told herself she was not excited, but as they turned into the High Street she realised that she had been sufficiently distracted to leave her bag in the car. With an effort, she forced herself to be calm. She owed that to Kersey Godfrey. Definitely.
It had been a surprise after all these years to hear that he was coming to England. They had kept in touch after the war, writing regularly for a year until she got married. They had exchanged cards at Christmas since then. She knew, of course, that he had become chairman of a construction business in Pennsylvania, and that he had five children. Maggie, the youngest, his letter explained, now had to visit England.
“I do pentathlon,” she told Patricia.
“She also beats the hell out of her brothers and sisters,” Adam laughed. “Maggie’s a total tomboy.”
“Not total,” Maggie correct wryly, and Patricia gave her an encouraging smile.
It was just before they went through the old gate from the High Street into the close that Maggie suddenly turned to her.
“So I guess you must have been dad’s girlfriend,” she said, so loudly that the policeman standing just behind them could hear.
To her horror, Patricia blushed furiously.
Adam only chuckled ruefully.
“I apologise. Maggie’s quite uncontrollable,” he explained. And then, to change the subject he quickly went on.
“So tell us about the royal visit. You said it was to do with the cathedral.”
“It is indeed.” She gazed up at the great building affectionately. “The fact is, unless something is done soon, the spire is going to fall down.”
It was true. The passing of the centuries, and in particular the twentieth century with its increased pollution, had worn down and attacked the Chilmark stone so that all over the west front and on the soaring spire, it had crumbled disastrously.
Most worrying was the state of the spire itself, where the delicate scone shell was now so worn in places that it was hardly thicker than the length of a man’s finger.
Could it really be, after seven and a half centuries, that the mighty spire was in danger of collapse – that the awful fear of the medieval masons might be realised, and the whole structure keel over, wrench the tower open and bring the entire cathedral down?
Even Maggie was awed.
“You mean the whole thing could come down?”
“I’m afraid so. If we don’t put it right.”
“And that’s what this visit’s all about?”
“Absolutely. We need six and a half million pounds and we haven’t got it. All the income the dean and chapter can get goes into the maintenance. The Prince of Wales is coming here to help start the appeal.”
Adam considered.
“It’s a lot of money, but I imagine you should raise it without much difficulty.”
“We’re going to raise a million in the Sarum diocese, maybe more. After that, it may be difficult.”
“But it’s one of the wonders of the world!”
“True. But try raising six million pounds in England.”
Shockley laughed. When he thought of some of the expenditures of the big American foundations it didn’t seem so large a sum.
Maggie looked dubious.
“You sure it’s safe to go inside?”
“Of course. It’s all under