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to help, she kept mixing Laura up with Mary Gillies, the only Englishwomen in the village, telling Reverend Stuart that he should know her best because she was always helping him at the church (he felt himself turn bright red at this and was pleased when Father Rossi realised her mistake, telling her she meant Mary).
    “ Do I? Who’s Laura Spencer then?”
    After they had left Reverend Stuart felt bad at being unaware of Ella’s mental deterioration (when he lost parishioners from his services he assumed it was down to his inadequacies and never checked up on them) and vowed he would visit her regularly in future. “She did know her. We talked about her last year when she came back.”
    “ A lot can change in a year,” Father Rossi said, smiling at him encouragingly. “A lot can change in a week.”
    “ Free daze,” Father Sciali said.
    “ Exactly, Umberto. Forgive me if you feel I’m speaking out of turn, but I would recommend visiting your parishioners once every three weeks. That is what I try and do,” Father Rossi said, humility preventing him from saying that his parishioners numbered two thousand.
    Reverend Stuart sniffed and said, changing the subject, “Hazel Gregory lives in this street as well. Should we go and see her?”
    “ Yes. Lead on, Reverend,” Father Rossi said, realising he’d struck a nerve, a nerve that needed exploring as change would be in the best interests of the young churchman and he would advise him more later. It was worth upsetting him if it would help him grow but Father Rossi could not risk antagonising him until more information was disclosed.
    Hazel Gregory lived alone and before they had even taken their seats in her home Father Rossi had the measure of her. This loquacious, shrewd woman had lots to say and would be aware of any rumours and would be happy to share them, the kind to divulge the secrets of her own family. After the last two interviewees she was perfect and after pleasantries, during which she flirted with Father Rossi, asking him what he was feeding Father Sciali and where could she get some, Father Rossi brought up Laura’s name.
    Hazel snorted at the name and muttered to herself before saying, “That’ll be why yuir here, Father, am I right?” The question was rhetorical, Hazel positive she was correct.
    Father Rossi nodded. “How well do you know her, Miss Gregory?”
    “ As well as I’d want to know such a one. My sister used to clean for her last century and she looked the same then. Had a Frog lover living with her.”
    Father Rossi looked at Umberto, an acknowledgement of something, intriguing Reverend Stuart, who said, correcting her, “That was her mother, Hazel.”
    “ Reverend. Yuir a man of God, you should know there’s all manner of beast, fair and fowl, that walk His green earth,” she said, lightly reprimanding him.
    Father Rossi turned to the Reverend and said, “I appreciate your help but please let me talk to her.”
    “ By all means, Father,” Reverend Stuart said. While his patience did feel stretched, he could control his temper and he was intrigued as to what else would be said.
    “ What era precisely, please, Mrs Gregory?” Father Rossi asked.
    “ Well, let me see. I’d been married and widowed so it must have been around 1890. She was only there for about a year. She heard stories and saw things. I can’t tell you what she told me, Father,” she said, worried about telling such things to a priest.
    “ Please do. It’s important.” Father Rossi knew this woman was not the type to be reticent and he felt that she could have something highly significant to say.
    Hazel Gregory looked down at her hands as she considered telling all. Any other secret she could tell in an instant. “She’d have my tongue,” she said apprehensively. “I can tell you about her lover, he’s long away. A queer man if e’er there was one, tried to get us all to do strange things. A right fool.”
    “ What kind of things?” Father