22. The Key That Changed Hands

Mrs Bell placed her basket of pears on the counter and regarded the innkeeper.

"Well?"

He looked at her, then at the basket.

"Those are very good pears."

"They are. I grew them."

"I thought you might have."

"Then perhaps you'd like to tell me where my key is."

The innkeeper sighed, reached beneath the counter and produced the little wooden box.

Mrs Bell took it, opened the lid and examined the brass key. She held it up to the light, turned it over, and ran a finger along its worn teeth.

"Still hasn't been used, then."

"No."

"Good."

She closed the box and slipped it into her pocket.

We asked why she had given it to him in the first place.

"Because he needed something to look after," she said.

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow.

"I had an inn."

"Yes. But you were looking after that for yourself."

He seemed about to object, then thought better of it.

Mrs Bell turned towards us.

"Samuel has been showing you the church, I hear."

"He mentioned a sealed door beneath it."

"Ah."

She pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Well, that's where the key belongs. Or where it may belong. We shall see."

"Does it open the door?"

"Not necessarily."

We looked at the key.

"Then what does it open?"

Mrs Bell smiled.

"That depends on what is waiting on the other side."

She took a pear from her basket and began cutting it with a small knife.

"You see, the church wasn't built to keep people out. It was built to mark a place where people could come together. The first stones were laid by a man called Alden. He wasn't a priest, or a mason, though he knew something about both. He built houses, bridges, walls and once, rather unsuccessfully, a boat."

"Was he your father?"

She paused.

"He was the man who raised me."

"And who was your father?"

Mrs Bell looked towards the fire.

"That's a longer story."

She offered us a slice of pear.

"Alden built the church around something that was already there. He called it the listening room."

"What did it listen to?"

"Everything that happened above it. Footsteps, bells, prayers, arguments, the weather. And sometimes things that hadn't happened yet."

The innkeeper leaned against the counter.

"Mrs Bell, you never told me any of this."

"You never asked."

He gave us a look of mild resignation.

Mrs Bell continued.

"The key was made by Alden. He said it would open the listening room when the room was ready to be heard."

"And is it ready now?"

She looked at the little box in her hands.

"I believe it may be."

She stood and gathered her basket.

"But we shan't go there today. There are things to be done first."

"What things?"

"Well, the departure bell has to be found. And I need to speak to Elian."

She glanced towards the garden door.

"She's been expecting me."

We asked whether she knew where Elian was.

Mrs Bell smiled.

"At the orchard, I should think. Or somewhere that hasn't yet become the orchard."

She started towards the door, then turned back.

"One other thing. When we go to the church, I want you to bring Clara's map."

We took the folded paper from our pocket.

Mrs Bell looked at it carefully.

"Ah," she said.

For the first time, she seemed genuinely surprised.

"She's drawn the old road."

"What old road?"

"The one that leads away from the valley."

She opened the map and traced the red line with one finger.

"Interesting. I thought it had disappeared."

She folded the map and handed it back.

"Well, perhaps it hasn't."

And she left.

The innkeeper watched her go.

"Do you know," he said after a moment, "I've been here twenty-three years, and I still don't know what half the things she says mean."

Rowan looked up from his basket.

"Only half?"

The innkeeper reached for his cloth.

"Thank you, Rowan."