THE HAND OF GOD pdf download

The Hand Of God

THE HAND OF GOD

From the Book

Dressed for the occasion, in a tweed jacket, checked shirt, brown cords and a pair of the most sensible brogues, Martin Palmer stepped off the 11.18 from Paddington and breathed in deeply, enjoying the warm countryside air.

It was a lovely day to be out of the office. And out of the city. Loosening his tie, he allowed himself a moment to take in his surroundings.

 ‘What a fine spot,’ he murmured, watching the handful of his fellow passengers who had similarly disembarked make their way out of the station before letting his gaze drift upwards, to take in the spire of St Mary’s parish church.

 ‘What a fine spot indeed.’

With the platform emptied, he sauntered slowly towards the station exit, careful to let his fellow travellers disperse before stepping through the ticket office and heading outside. Ignoring the hopeful waiting taxi driver, Palmer took a left down what passed for the main road, heading into the village proper.

 Keeping to his leisurely pace, he made his way past a primary school, a post office, a butcher’s and a corner shop.

Apart from a bright red Mini that roared past, its aged driver squinting through the screen in search of oncoming traffic, he did not encounter another soul.

It was the middle of a working day and the streets were deserted.