By F. Jane O'Brien

 

Chapter One

 

Gabardine slid the cover down over the keyboard of the old organ and, after a gentle caress of the well cared for rosewood casing, hopped off the bench. She slipped her feet into sturdy oxfords and laced them tightly, stuffed her music books into a leather satchel and let herself out of the village church. It was a chilly September afternoon and a keen breeze cut through the trees while clouds began huddling together to blot out the weak sunshine. Gabardine wrapped her scarf around her neck and buttoned her cardigan, wishing she'd thought to bring her waterproof jacket as the first drops of rain began to fall.