My aged companion Crisp was waiting for me when I returned from visiting with her sister Crust. Crisp was in better spirits knowing Crust had moved on and we could continue our holiday unimpeded.
Crisp had a tourist brochure out and announced we were going to see the ancient church of St Tessa of The Righteous Soul.
My eyes rolled at the thought of another church, but Crisp was full of enthusiasm and outlined to me the significance of the church and in particular the front door which dated, she said from 1156 when St Tessa was martyred by Protestant wolves after completing the door’s carving.
“Years ahead of her time,” announced Crisp as she pulled on her walking boots which action meant it was time to go and that I had best have the thermos ready as Crisp liked a cup of tea around ten each morning.