by I Beacham
Joey thought of the mass of flowers. “Outside in the van.”
“Okay. How do you want to play this?”
“I thought you’d tell me.” Joey’s answer seemed to confuse the vicar. How difficult was it to organize flowers?
“Well, would you like me to show you around the church first?”
“Not really, Reverend. I’ll just bring it all in.” She glanced down, and something about the vicar’s attire caught her eye. “You’re wearing jeans.”
The statement seemed to amuse.
“I’m wearing a cassock over my jeans.”
“Why?” Joey hadn’t seen a denim wearing vicar in church before.
“Because of you.”
“Me?”
“The photo.”
“What photo?”
“I understand you want a photograph of me.”
Joey straightened. Something wasn’t quite right here. She started to smile. “Tempting, but not really.”
Reverend Savage frowned. “You are from the BBC?”
“Yeah. How do you know that?” Joey had listened to Elsa’s voice mail to the vicar. She hadn’t mentioned that. Maybe Elsa had spoken of her new job with Stallion Productions earlier, but then surely she’d have also mentioned she was American.
“Your station called and arranged this appointment,” the vicar clarified.
“My station?”
Joey was about to say that they must have their wires crossed when a man approached Reverend Savage and handed her a cell phone.
“You left it in the vestry, Sam.”
“Thanks.” The vicar stared at its flashing lights before turning gray eyes on Joey. “I’ve got a couple of messages. Would you mind if I check them? One of my parishioners is ill in hospital. It might be news.”
“Please, go ahead.”
Joey heard both messages as clear as if she’d held the cell to her own ear.
“Vicar, it’s Elsa Morris. There’s no problem, but I’ve sprained my ankle and can’t drive. Don’t worry. I’m getting my niece to drop the flower arrangements off. She should be at the church in about an hour. Lydia and Kelvin know where they are all going so they’ll sort everything. The flowers look beautiful. They’ll need a light spray of water in the morning and should look stunning for tomorrow’s wedding. Again, Lydia knows what to do. Any dramas, just ring.”
The vicar locked eyes with Joey.
“Hi. This is a message for Reverend Canon Savage. Reverend, this is Carrie from BBC Radio WM. I’m so sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel the interview for a second time. I’m caught in a dreadful traffic jam on the motorway, and I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere fast. I don’t want to mess you around so I’ll get back to you later, and hopefully we can reschedule. Believe it or not, I’m really looking forward to meeting you, and hearing about the church. I’ll be in touch. Bye.”
When finished, the emissary of God looked at her again, this time her eyes twinkled.
“Let’s start again,” the vicar said. “Why are you here?”
Joey grinned. “I’m here to deliver flowers. I’m Elsa’s niece, Josephine Barry. You didn’t get her message, did you?”
“Nope.” The vicar guiltily raised the phone and shook it in front of them. “I thought you were the reporter from BBC WM, here to interview me about the church appeal.” She threw Joey a huge smile as she stuck her hand out. “I’m Samantha Savage, Josephine. Lovely to meet you, and please call me Sam…everyone else does.”
Joey relaxed. She was beginning to recognize the frazzled look of stress around Sam’s eyes. It made her more forgiving. “Call me Joey. I’m glad we’ve sorted the confusion out.”
“Me, too. I see now why you didn’t want my photograph. I felt quite slighted.”
Joey started to laugh. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No damage done. I have a hide like a buffalo.” Sam’s eyes narrowed in fun. “And I wear jeans because they’re comfortable, and it doesn’t pay to be too formal in this line of work. I think most parishioners prefer it to the more starchy appearance one normally expects of my lot. I stick to the shirt and dog collar, but the rest is relaxed.”
“I see.” Joey didn’t really. Her mother was a churchgoer back home, and in all the countries her own work had taken her to, Joey had always found the different articles of clerical clothing like a personal assault course. She only knew she liked this vicar better when she smiled.
Sam was giving her a friendly tap on her arm.
“Shall we get those flowers in before they wilt in this heat?”
*
Elsa answered the door with a smile and a walking stick. She leaned on it, and Sam could see the heavy bandaging on her foot. In the background was piano music. It was light and precise, expert fingers producing a calming effect.
Sam smiled back. “Elsa, what have you done?”
She was calling on her to make sure she was all right and to let her know her flower arrangements for the wedding had been spectacular. There were many compliments. She wanted Elsa to know.
Elsa beckoned her inside the small detached house and sighed in frustration.
“I tripped over the cat and sprained my ankle. The swelling’s going down so I should be back to normal soon.”
“I’m very glad to hear it. You’re missed. And I can’t tell you how much your flowers have been admired. Your ears must be burning.”
“Only my ankle.”
Elsa joked, but Sam noted the way she puffed up with pride. It warmed her. So often the little thank-yous were never said, yet they made a big difference.
“Shall I put the kettle on?” Elsa asked.
“No. I just wanted to check on you and make sure you’re okay.”
They sat down in the cozy sitting room.
Gentle music continued to drift in from next door.
“Joey,” Elsa explained before Sam asked the question. “She loves to play, just like her mother. She’s my youngest sister’s daughter and staying with me. She’s from America. I think you met her last week.”
Sam grinned. Their introduction had been under confusing circumstances. “Yes, she stayed on and helped with the flowers.”
“She’s waiting to move into an apartment not far from you. She gets the keys later this week. But it’s been lovely having her here, and she’s taken the weight off my feet so to speak.” Elsa tutted at her double entendre.
“Is she over here long?”
“I’m not sure. She’s working here for a while, but I don’t know the detail. For you to ask, I think.”
Sam thought she heard an element of caution in Elsa’s response but didn’t have time to think on it at that moment, Joey entered the room. Sam was struck with how tall and slim she was. She hadn’t really noticed before. She guessed she was in her mid to late forties, but she didn’t look it. There was no gray in her long blond hair, and she appeared fit. There was a nasty scar on her forehead, and now Sam could see dark shadows under her eyes. While the shadows might be jetlag—Sam didn’t know how long Joey had been here—the scar fed her natural curiosity. Joey was an attractive woman and the wound seemed to add a touch of mystery enhancing her allure.
Right now something else was more enticing about Joey. She was a piano player. A seed dropped with the weight of an anchor into Sam’s thoughts.
After the usual array of friendly greetings, Sam blatantly allowed the seed to germinate.
“So, that was you playing the piano?”
“Yes, not too well I’m afraid, but I enjoy it.”
Joey looked like an innocent for slaughter. Sam didn’t care. She was beyond guilt after months of Maude’s playing. She was desperate.
As if by telepathy, Elsa joined in. “How’s Maude doing?”
“Killing my attendance numbers.” Sam believed in truth. “Only the deaf appreciate her playing. God forgive me for complaining.”
Elsa eyeballed Sam. “It’s difficult to find someone these days.”
“Yes, it is, Elsa.
” She smiled graciously at Joey who was now sitting opposite. “You know, Maude can’t play next week due to other commitments, and I’m looking for someone to cover. Know anyone, Elsa?”
“Stop right there.” Joey raised a hand. Sam noted the long thin fingers…pianist’s fingers.
“We’re not doing anything.” Elsa played the sweet little old lady well.
“Yes, you are. You’ve both got collusion written across your faces,” Joey said.
“No, no,” Sam said.
“Yes, yes,” Joey said.
Sam could see this would not be easy. “It’s just you play so well.”
“And it would only be for Sunday service, right, Reverend?” Elsa seldom addressed her as Sam.
“Absolutely.”
“No, no, no.” Joey grew more resistant.
“You’re not doing anything better,” Elsa said.
“No! Back off, you guys. I’ve started a new job and I need to focus. Besides, I’m moving into my place soon and I’ll need time to settle.”
“But it’s only one Sunday,” Elsa said.
“Two…three at most,” Sam added.
“Why don’t you play, Reverend?” Joey said evenly.
“I can’t, and besides, I can’t be in two places at once…doing the service, etcetera.”
“My answer is unequivocally no. I’m too busy.”
“My dear,” Elsa said, “you can’t work every day, and this will be good for you. Take your mind off things. You said yourself, music has such healing properties.”
Sam reminded herself that she was intrigued. What was Joey healing from?
Joey dug her heels in. “No. Besides, I’m not religious.”
“You don’t have to be to play,” Sam replied.
“And I’ve never played an organ in my life.”
“Keyboards are the same. You can play one, you can play the other.”
Joey stared at her hard. “It’s obvious you don’t play.”
“There’s a photo of me in this if you just play on Sunday.” Sam resorted to begging.
“A photo?” Elsa looked confused.
“Long story,” Sam and Joey answered in unison.
Joey stood. “Sorry, guys. I’m not doing it and I’m leaving now,” she threw them a smile wrapped in warning, “so I don’t have to keep looking at your pleading faces.” As she exited, she eyeballed them through the door until it closed.
Elsa and Sam eyed each other as the door clicked shut.
“She’ll break,” Elsa said.
Sam hadn’t thought she would, which was why it came as a surprise to find Joey sitting in a pew waiting for her several days later. Sam was returning from a meeting with the social services department. She noticed Joey the minute she entered the church.
There was a ray of sunlight, a beam that fell across Joey. It lit up her fair hair like warm golden sand. For a moment, Sam thought Joey was asleep; the sunbeam might have done that. But as she approached her, Joey turned and looked up with such keen blue eyes. Sam only saw a troubled face. Years of administering to people in all kinds of distress had honed her sensitivity. She suspected that Joey suffered and it made her wonder why.
“So, is it my vibrant personality or word of my dynamic pulpit skills that brings you into my church to pray?” Sam joked. She didn’t dare hope it had anything to do with organ playing.
“I’m not praying.”
Sam caught the breeze of defensiveness.
“But you’re sitting in my church.”
Joey shrugged. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“You looked like you were praying,” Sam said softly.
“Looks can be deceiving, but I was enjoying the peace of this place. It’s lovely to just be able to sit down and think.”
“About anything in particular?”
Joey didn’t answer, and Sam could hardly miss the shadow that crossed her face and the way she looked away, breaking eye contact. It made her intuitive antenna swing like a metronome. For someone she’d only just met, she was building an unexpected amount of data that hinted at one who really was troubled. But experience had also taught Sam that there were times when people needed to talk, and times when they didn’t. She suspected this was one of those moments when they didn’t as she sat down in the pew in front of her. Sam sensed a need to lighten something unquantifiable that had suddenly drawn Joey into a dark place. Sam applied humor. With a dramatic deep voice, she asked, “Are you in trouble, my child?”
Joey actually laughed, and Sam felt a glow of warmth. It was pure supposition, but she suspected Elsa’s niece didn’t laugh too much of late. An irrational urge rose in her that wanted to find out why. Its strength surprised Sam, and she assumed it was because she liked her. She had from the moment they’d met.
“Oh, Mother would love you,” Joey said.
“She would?”
“She’s big into religion.”
“Ah, a believer.” Sam loaded the comment with devout benevolence. Instinct told her she could play with Joey.
“Oh, yes.”
Sam sensed the intelligence behind Joey’s stare.
“But you’re not,” Sam said.
“I see myself as more spiritual.”
“As do many.”
“I’ve disappointed you.” Joey wasn’t apologetic.
“Not at all, I’m a realist. I gave up trying to entice people into the faith years ago. I merely leave the door open, and they can come in if they want.”
Joey seemed to be brightening.
“I’ve changed my mind, Vicar. I’ll play Sunday if you want.”
“I want. And it’s Sam.”
“I’m only doing this once, Sam.”
“Okay.”
This was not the time to ask what had changed Joey’s mind. Sam was too busy thanking her boss. When she finished groveling, she caught Joey looking at the impressive organ located to the side of the church. It was positioned on a raised level like a Juliet balcony and accessed by stone steps.
“Do you think I could practice now? I’m really a simple piano player and I don’t want to mess up.”
“Come on.” Without thought, Sam grabbed Joey’s hand and led her up to the mezzanine floor. “Practice away. The music’s all here along with the order of service for Sunday. Take as long as you want. If you need me I’ll be down there.” Sam pointed to the pulpit. “John is setting up a new microphone and amplifier system so we’ll be competing with you. Try to ignore it.”
Joey managed.
Sam had a harder time.
When John finished testing the equipment for the umpteenth time, Sam just leaned on the pulpit and listened to the music. Joey was an accomplished player. It didn’t matter that she was learning how the organ worked with all its pump mechanisms. There was no hiding ability and talent. It had been a long time since Sam had heard the church organ played so well. Its sound lifted her heart. When Joey finished, she told her so.
“My God,” Sam gushed as she ran up the steps to where Joey was still sitting in front of the sheet music.
“What?”
“Magic. You play so well, and you got all the right notes.”
“Doesn’t Maude?” Joey closed the music in front of her and stood.
Sam scratched her head. “Yes, but not always in the right order.”
“You have a way with words.”
“Not everybody would agree with you.” Sam took her hand again and led her down the steps. They were uneven and needed better lighting. Heavens forbid, Joey fell and broke a finger.
“That’s it then. You’re booked, Joey.”
“Won’t Maude be annoyed?”
“Not at all. She’s not available Sunday. Besides, she’s only temp, filling in until I can find a new permanent organist.”
“What happened to the last one?”
“You don’t want to know.” Sam had hoped she wouldn’t ask.
“What happened?”
Sam gave a dry cough. “He left unex
pectedly.”
Joey was about to ask more when Sam halted at the bottom of the steps and turned to her wearing a shifty look. Joey felt her strength drain. Professional intuition yelled at her.
“What?” Joey didn’t have a suspicious nature for nothing.
Sam feigned shock. “What what?”
“Why do I know you’re about to ask me something I’m not going to like.”
Sam began a denial routine, but reneged at the last minute. “What are you doing Wednesday evening?”
“Why?”
“The scouts have got an event here and I desperately need someone to play—”
“Oh, no.”
“It would only be for a couple of hours.”
Joey stared at the desperation on Sam’s face and her resistance vanished. Her new job was starting gently, and it wasn’t like she had a load of furniture and possessions to move into the apartment. She was still awaiting their arrival.
“Okay,” she caved in. “But this can’t become a habit.”
“Of course not.”
“Remember, I’m not religious. This God stuff isn’t my scene.”
“You sound like my housekeeper.”
“Your housekeeper?”
“Never mind.” Sam grinned back at her.
“Why am I doing this?” Joey said. “You’re walking all over me. I’m usually very strong.”
Sam’s grin widened. “The scouts will adore you.”
“Don’t they like Maude?”
“You’re about fifty years younger.”
“Ah.”
Joey coughed awkwardly.
“What?” Sam asked.
“You’re holding my hand.”
Sam had grabbed it to help her down the poorly lit stone steps. She seemed in no hurry to release it.
“Sorry. I’m dangerously tactile.” Sam let go.
Joey was surprised when Sam then grasped her arm.
“I don’t suppose your spiritual needs require refreshment? I’m off to the vicarage for a bacon sandwich and a coffee. Want to join me?”
*
From the outside, the vicarage was hardly sizeable. Joey figured someone in power and holding the purse strings was economizing, figuring an unmarried vicar didn’t need a large place. They hadn’t disappointed. They had taken financial restraint to a whole new level. It wasn’t what Joey expected.
