Springing out the vestry like a whippet from a starting block, the white-haired woman striding towards me looking flushed and indignant.
‘You can’t park here,’ she boomed. ‘This space is for church users only.’
I knew that. In need of a little spiritual solace – that’s what had brought me here on a quiet Saturday afternoon, but she seemed unconvinced.
‘There’s a public car park at the other end of the town,’ she said, adding: ‘Nearer the shops and cafes.’
To
To provide well-rounded coverage and a breadth of insight across various events, we rely on contributions from several staff writers, each bringing their own area of expertise to our publication.





