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The April sun shone brightly, glinting off the church’s stained glass windows. The sky was a brilliant blue. A slight breeze rustled the grass in the churchyard. The sight brought Mary a sense of calm as she and her fiance walked up to the church’s entrance, arm-in-arm.
“Isn’t it lovely out?” she asked.
“Aye, it is,” Neil replied with a smile.
They went inside the church. The air was cooler, giving Mary a slight chill as they entered the sanctuary. Two rows of wooden pews were bordered by white walls. She and Neil took their usual seats in one of the frontmost pews, by one of the arched windows. After unlinking their arms, Neil straightened his suit jacket.
Mary clasped her hands in her lap, and gazed around the room. In the front, after the pews ended, the white walls gave way to a larger stone alcove. To the left, there were risers for the choir. In the middle was the communion table, already set with the wafers and wine. To the right was a lectern for the pastor, with an open Bible on it. If she were to leave her seat and go into the alcove, she would see the organ in the right corner.
As the minutes went by, more and more people came. Soon, the church was brimming with men in suits and women in floral dresses. Like Mary, many of the women wore their hair in prim buns.
When service began, the pastor came out in his white robes and stole. A quiet hush fell over the church. The pastor stood at the lectern, and began his sermon. His voice echoed off the walls. Beside her, Neil sat with rapt attention. His back was ramrod straight, and his hands were folded in his lap.
Mary realized she was staring, and turned her head forward. The pew creaked slightly as she straightened her posture.
They sang hymns, with Mary reading from her fiance’s hymnal. The congregation’s voices and the organ filled the sanctuary. She glanced at Neil, and he met her gaze. He looked at her with such tenderness, it warmed her heart.
After the hymns, Neil soon slid out of the pew and took his place at the communion table. He began to read.
“I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you. And that the Lord Jesus, the same night in which he was betrayed, took bread. And when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘Take, eat: this is my body which is broken for you. This do in remembrance of me.’” Neil glanced up at the congregation. “And after the same manner, he also took the cup, when he had eaten, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. This do you as oft as you drink it in remembrance of me. For as often as you eat this bread and drink this wine, you do show the Lord's death till he comes again.’”
Neil briefly met her eyes. Mary gave him a small smile.
She took communion along with everyone else. Neil was the last one to receive the wafer and wine. When he returned to his seat, she whispered, “You were wonderful.”
He smiled softly. “Thank you.”
Shortly after, service ended. The congregation streamed out of their pews. Neil offered Mary his arm, and she took it.
As soon as they left the church, they were stopped by Mrs. MacPherson, the ruddy-cheeked butcher’s wife.
“Good morning, Mary. Good morning, Sergeant. I trust you're both well?” She clasped her hands, waiting for their response.
Mary smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. MacPherson. Indeed we are.”
No sooner had Mary replied did Mr. MacPherson appear beside his wife. He was a burly, bearded man around forty years old. At the sight of Neil, his face twisted in anger. He seized his wife by the arm and pulled her away.
“Come along, woman. I don’t want you talking to him.”
Mrs. MacPherson struggled. “What’s the matter? What do you mean?”
“That bugger gave me a summons for keeping my meat in insanitary conditions. Me! Come on.”
Before either Neil or Mary could respond, Mr. MacPherson dragged his protesting wife into the crowd. Other churchgoers had begun to stare.
Embarrassment and anger made Mary’s cheeks flush red. Mr. MacPherson didn’t always keep his shop in the best condition, so getting a summons was his own fault. What right did he have, confronting them outside of church? Treating his own wife like a child?
She looked at her fiance. Neil stared at the retreating couple with a furrowed brow. But his displeasure vanished as quickly as it came. He turned to her, and gave her a comforting smile.
“My dear, a policeman’s lot is not a happy one.”
Her anger diminished somewhat. If Mr. MacPherson wanted to act like a child, then he was free to do so. There was no use dwelling on it, not when she and Neil still had a lovely day ahead of them.
Although her embarrassment hadn’t quite faded, she returned his smile. They moved through the crowd.
***
Shortly after, Neil had to go to work. Mary was grateful that he was at least able to attend church.
At home, Mary changed out of her church clothes into a more comfortable dress. She made herself a cup of tea. She spent the afternoon reading the latest edition of The Scots Magazine.
Later that evening, Mary got a telephone call from the station. Neil would be away overnight, according to P.C. McTaggart. He had to investigate a case all the way out in Summerisle.
Disappointment filled her. She had hoped to see her fiance again that day, but she supposed it couldn’t be helped. At least Summerisle was supposed to be a beautiful place. She had heard of the island’s famous apples, of course, but had never tasted one herself.
She went to bed, certain that Neil would tell her of his travels the next day.
***
She began to grow worried on Monday, as the day turned to night with no word from Neil.
Mary went to the police station, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. The station was bustling with constables. Some sat at their desks, filling out paperwork. At one of those desks, she encountered P.C. McTaggart.
“Good evening. Sorry to bother you, but is Neil here? Only, he was supposed to come back by now, and I haven’t heard from him.”
McTaggart shook his head. “Sorry, Mary.” Upon seeing her face fall, he added, “When he gets back, you’ll be the first to know. I’ll have him give you a call.”
She thanked him and went back home. Unease began to settle in her. But she figured that the case was taking a little bit longer to solve, and he had to stay an extra day.
It was only when Tuesday evening came that Mary began to fear something was horribly wrong. She went back to the police station, and found McTaggart hunched over his desk.
“Hello, Constable. Has Neil come back yet?”
A troubled look passed over the constable’s face. “Well…”
“Yes, what is it?” A bit of impatience crept into her tone.
“No one’s heard from him since he left.”
Alarm coursed through her. “What? And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t want to cause a panic,” McTaggart said. “Now, don’t worry. We’ve sent out a search for him.”
“You mean you don’t know where he is?” Her alarm only grew. “Can’t you tell me anything? Anything at all?” she pressed.
Sympathy shone in his eyes. “I’ll call you when we hear back.”
She went back home, more anxious than ever.
Mary alternated between pacing restlessly and sitting by the phone. The clock in the kitchen ticked incessantly. The sun set slowly, casting orange rays on the floor. Her hands grew clammy. Anxiety gnawed at her gut. Her mind conjured images of Neil lost at sea, caught in a storm. Or crumpled at the bottom of a cliff. She shook her head, trying to dispel these images, but they remained.
The phone rang. Mary jolted. She practically snatched the phone off the hook.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Mary.” The voice on the other end was not Neil or a policeman, but one of her neighbors. “I was wondering if you’ve happened to see my book on gardening. I’ve looked everywhere, I can’t seem to find it.”
“No, sorry,” she replied. Her hopes dashed, Mary hung up.
The night grew late and she got ready for bed. But sleep wouldn’t come. After what felt like hours of staring at the ceiling, Mary got up. She knelt down by her bed and prayed for Neil’s safe return. It was the only thing she could do.
***
A week had passed since the day Neil left, with no news of his whereabouts. Mary tried to make herself look presentable for church. She smoothed out her dress and straightened her hat. But she couldn’t quite hide the shadows under her eyes.
At church, other parishioners shot her concerned glances. Mary tried to listen to the sermon, but the pastor’s words became white noise. When they sang hymns, Mary glanced to her left out of habit. The hymnal felt heavy in her hands.
The rest of the service went by in a blur. It was Mrs. MacPherson who approached her afterward.
“Mary, I’m surprised to see you here by yourself. Where’s the sergeant?” By now, she must have heard of his disappearance, but Mary told her anyway.
“I’m afraid I don’t know. He was called away for a couple days, but no one has heard from him.” Saying it out loud made it feel all too real. A lump formed in her throat.
“Oh, you poor dear. I’ll pray for the both of you.”
Mary gave her a shaky smile. “Thank you.”
Mary went home in a daze, feeling like she was in the middle of a bad dream. Once inside her house, she sat at her kitchen table. How much longer would she have to bear Neil’s absence?
What if he never returned?
She didn’t want to dwell on that possibility. But once the question came, it clouded her mind. What would she do if he were still gone by the time they were supposed to be married? How could she go on alone?
What if he was dead?
His job had always carried an inherent danger, but that threat had seemed distant. Unreal. But when she closed her eyes, she was plagued by images of him sinking into the sea. Or of a shadowy figure plunging a knife into him.
She hid her face in her hands and wept.