by I Beacham
“What did you see?”
“Attraction…love.” Joey bent over and gave her a chaste kiss.
“I’m glad you did.”
When Joey had left the church that night, the door closing had felt like it was slamming down on Sam’s life. She had wanted to reach out to Joey but didn’t know how. Her ecclesiastical persona had stood in her way. “I’m very glad you’re here,” Sam whispered.
“I’m very glad Gloria isn’t,” Joey laughed.
Something crossed Sam’s mind. Gloria had phoned to say she had a new date when she’d be back. Sam hadn’t paid attention and had forgotten it all. It wasn’t important anyway. Gloria would turn up when she was back.
“How did you get that?” Joey pointed to a scar on Sam’s chin.
“I was putting a chalice away after service. It fell off the top shelf as I was looking up.”
Joey didn’t look impressed.
Sam sighed. “I must seem very dull to you. The most action I get is baptizing infants and trying not to drop them in the font.”
“Dull is not a word I associate with you. I don’t often come across a motor biking vicar who chases thieves off her roof.”
“Yes, but you tackled the driver to the ground.”
“I did, didn’t I? We make quite a pair.” Joey laughed. “Tell me, Sam. Have you gone all this time without sex? Since Louise?”
Sam turned. “I’m a vicar not a nun.”
Joey shifted and raised herself up to study Sam. It made Sam realize that maybe she wasn’t so dull. Joey’s hair fell across Sam’s breasts, and the simple act produced such a feeling of happiness in her. She thanked God she’d met Joey and that they’d been given this chance of love.
“Well?” Joey nudged her.
Sam feigned world-weariness. “I admit that I’ve taken myself away on breaks sometimes and allowed myself to indulge in carnal matters.”
Joey looked shocked.
“It’s true. Not too many times…and I’ve never had to pay for anything.”
“You’ve done this? Really?”
“I have.” Sam wasn’t lying. “You’re disappointed.”
“No.” Joey’s eyes were wide open. “I’m fascinated. When was the last time?”
“Several years ago in Weston-super-Mare. It was after Louise died. I desperately needed to connect with someone.”
Joey nudged her again. “You won’t have to go anywhere tonight. You’ve got me.” Her eyes were full of love as she moved across to cover Sam.
Their lovemaking began once more.
*
“I’ve got to get up.” Sam stared at the bedside clock wishing she could make it freeze time.
“But it’s Saturday.”
“Time waits for no man…or vicar. Neither does God. I have a ten o’clock service.”
Joey moaned and stretched.
Sam bent and kissed her. “Sorry.” She swung her legs off the bed and onto the floor. “I’ll go and put the kettle on.”
There was lightness to her step as she moved downstairs, but it disappeared the minute she entered the kitchen. Gloria was there unpacking shopping and decanting it into the cupboards and fridge. Sam couldn’t hide her shock, and her usual greeting etiquette fell short.
“You’re back,” she spluttered.
“I am.” Gloria responded in her normal cheerless manner that hid her real warmth. It occurred to Sam that the vacation might not have lived up to Gloria’s expectations.
“You’re back early,” Sam added, wondering how she could keep Joey’s presence upstairs a secret. Now she wished she’d paid attention to Gloria’s phone call.
“No, I’m not. I rang and told you when I’d be back.” Gloria’s cheerlessness turned to despair. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Sam didn’t lie. “How was the break?”
“I enjoyed it, but I missed home. The family has grown too large and noisy. While it’s been lovely seeing my sister and cousins again, I’m glad to be back and to my routine.” She glanced around. “I see you kept the place clean and that the motorbike has disappeared from the kitchen.”
“There’s been a miracle,” Sam said wryly.
At that moment, a thunder of feet sounded behind them and Joey appeared in the kitchen half dressed.
Sam flinched. Joey blanched.
“Other miracles too, I see.” Gloria’s left eyebrow raised an inch.
There was a moment of awkwardness before Gloria said, “Breakfast for two, then?” She started moving around the kitchen in preparation.
“Doesn’t this upset her religious code?” Joey whispered.
“She hasn’t got one,” Sam whispered back. “You two have a lot in common.”
Chapter Eight
“That’s the new beams in, Rev,” Bob said. He wiped dust off his hands as he stood inside the church with Sam looking up at the church roof. “There’s still a lot to do, but now those babies are in, everything will move faster.”
“Am I allowed to ask how fast fast is?”
He stared at her as if she’d grown a new head. “You can’t hurry something like this. This is a job that has to be done right and with great attention to detail. I want to honor the craftsmen who originally built all this. I want their ghosts to know that mankind has progressed and expanded in ability and knowledge…at least in the building trade.”
Sam noted how his eyes filled with humility and respect. It wasn’t something she often saw in his tanned chiseled features.
“This church is a structure of beauty. The craftsmanship I’m finding takes my breath away, and they never had the fancy tools we do today. Oh, if only I could walk in their shadows for a few days.”
“Careful, Bob, you’re beginning to sound like a zealot.”
He smiled. “I know I’m a bit rough round the edges, but me and the family, we go to church most Sundays.”
“Most?”
“Gotta be honest, Rev. Sometimes it’s a bugger getting out of bed, especially in the winter. These bones aren’t as young as they used to be.”
“Don’t let it worry you, Bob. Sometimes I struggle too.”
She realized that of late, her aches and pains had much to do with unaccustomed lovemaking. Conversely, despite the stiffness, she felt younger.
She was walking back down the aisle smiling when Carrie, the BBC reporter, walked into the church and down the aisle to greet her.
“Hello, what brings you here?”
Carrie sauntered up to her, self-confidence oozing. It was difficult not to admire her shapely form in the tight pencil skirt that showed off long lean legs. She wore a ribbed, body clinging cashmere jumper set off with a pretty pink flowered silk neck scarf. With her abundant curly hair that dripped alluringly over her face and shoulders, she dressed to enhance the gifts nature bestowed on her. They were in abundance, especially on her chest. Sam could not deny she was an attractive woman.
“Thought you might like to know our piece on the church has gone down very well with the listeners. We’ve had lots of positive feedback online, and people are chatting about how much they like you. You’ve got a great radio presence.” She swept her hair to the side, a habit Sam had noted the other evening.
“Thank you, that’s good to hear. But you didn’t have to come all this way. You could have phoned.”
“Yes, I know, I know, but I was passing and thought the personal touch was better.” Carrie’s smile was rakish. “Actually, a colleague asked me to propose something to you…sound you out. WM runs a radio series called Forgotten Worcestershire. I think he’s wondering if you’d be interested in coming into the studio and talking about some of the other stuff you mentioned to me.”
“Like what?”
“Those interesting artifacts found during the excavation some years ago. You also talked about the radar survey of the churchyard and the Saxon Monastery, and the church mentioned in the Domesday Book. Civil War skirmishes. And I’m sure you have lots of other interesting informatio
n of historical relevance you could talk about. I’m not on that team, but it’s perfect material for their series.”
Sam began to dismiss the idea.
“I know you’re busy,” Carrie said, “but do give it some thought. You really know your history, and people like hearing it. Any airtime highlights the church appeal. It could work in your favor.” She didn’t give Sam time to say no. “I’ll get the editor to give you a call in a week or two, okay? You can deal with him as to whether you want to do it or not.”
Carrie was no longer interested in the conversation. She scanned the church, plainly looking for something. Sam had a hunch as to what.
“Looking for anything in particular?”
“Joey not here?” Carrie asked.
“No service. No organist.” Sam’s response came out blunt. She softened. “Joey only helps when we’ve no organist. We have now. Besides, she works during the week.”
Carrie pursed her full lips.
Sam’s curiosity was killing her. “Something you want to see her about?”
“I thought I’d take her out, show her around. We BBC people have to stick together, and I expect she’s lonely over here.” Carrie was straightforward if not irritating. “Don’t you agree? It must be a bit boring for her. Nothing very exciting happens around here. It’s all a bit dull.”
“It depends what you want.” Sam forced a smile onto her face and then ordered it to stay there.
Carrie immediately balked and offered a meager apology. “I wasn’t implying this is all dull, but she’s a fast lane sort of woman. This parochial living must be very insular for her.” Carrie flicked her hair. “Anyway, I must dash. I’m really glad I got to see you and tell you the news. Give the suggestion some thought.”
Carrie pivoted on her high heels and left.
Sam watched her leave. She stopped smiling, and irritation coursed through her.
What the shit is dull about here?
She listened to the builders hammering away and their radio tuned into heavy rock music.
God was becoming pretty progressive of late, she thought.
A tinge of uncertainty ran through her. Was this life all a bit parochial and insular for someone like Joey? She was, or had been, living in the fast lane.
Somewhere in the distance, she heard one of the builder’s singing words from “Another One Bites the Dust.”
She hoped he was killing woodworm.
What the shit is dull about here?
*
“Considering this is what can loosely be defined as our first date, it hasn’t started well,” Joey said, deadpan.
Sam cringed. She was an hour late.
They were supposed to meet at six thirty, have something to eat, and then catch a movie. Work had held Sam up, and she’d only just arrived at the mall.
But Joey understood. She knew only too well how the day job could edge into personal life and mess up everything. Sam had run from the parking lot to get to her, unable to hide her frustration and now panting like the winner of the Boston Marathon.
“I tried to phone you, but you didn’t answer,” Sam wheezed.
Joey held her hands up. “My fault. I’ve left the cell in the car. I didn’t think I’d need it.”
Sam deflated like a flatulent balloon.
“Now I’ve ruined the evening, what shall we do?”
Joey kissed her before answering. “Let’s go eat. The movie can wait.” She placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder and pushed her toward a place she’d seen earlier. “Steak house?”
“Perfect.”
Once they’d sat down and ordered, Joey asked, “So what kept you?”
“Bit of an ugly affair.” Sam didn’t look happy. “Two gay guys have asked for a church blessing at St. George’s which is a small country church in this diocese. It’s one of the parishes I oversee.”
Joey thought Sam looked tired. She was definitely annoyed.
“There’s a vicar there who isn’t gay friendly. He’s blatantly told them he wouldn’t do a blessing even if he could because he doesn’t believe in marriage being denigrated.”
“Ouch. That isn’t nice.”
“A simple ‘sorry I can’t do that,’ would have sufficed, but he has to be aggressive about it.”
“I thought there were same sex marriages over here?”
“Civil marriages, yes. At the moment, the Church of England isn’t carrying out same-sex marriages, and there’s no authorized service for blessings. The church is moving in the right direction, but it’s taking matters slowly, giving everyone time to readjust.” Sam didn’t hide her irritation. “He’s upset them, which is sad.”
“What do you mean by no authorized services?”
“There are some maverick vicars willing to conduct blessings of civil marriages in church.”
“Are you one?”
“I think I’m about to be.”
“Is this the vicar who gives you issues?”
Sam nodded. “I won’t lie. I don’t like the man. It’s not like it’s the occasional issue. It’s everything. We’re always at different points of the compass. I suppose I should be grateful; all the other vicars are first class.”
“Well, maybe a good bloody steak and a beer will help.”
Sam stretched her hand across the table and took Joey’s.
“You help.” Sam gave a weary smile. It warmed Joey.
The food arrived, and for a while they ate, and the conversation was limited.
Then Sam asked, “Am I dull?”
Joey choked on a garlic mushroom. “Where’s this coming from?”
“Nowhere,” Sam said quietly. “It’s just this area’s a bit parochial and insular.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s peaceful and normal with real people in real life.”
“But you’re used to excitement.”
Joey set her knife and fork down on her plate and stared at Sam. “Am I really having this conversation with the Slayer of Lead Thieves?”
It was the first grin she’d got out of Sam since she’d arrived. Joey relaxed and picked her fork back up. “You are not dull, Reverend Samantha Savage. This topic of conversation is over. Period.” She was pleased to see Sam yield to her authority.
The food on their plates disappeared, and coffee arrived.
“Carrie Marlow came into church a few days ago,” Sam said.
“Yeah?”
“Yes. She came to tell me that the piece has aired and gone down very well. They’ve had some good feedback.”
“That’s nice.”
“Apparently, the station wants me to do some more recordings for a series called Forgotten Worcestershire. They want me to talk about local historical events.”
Joey was both pleased and worried. Sam’s historical knowledge was impressive, and she made it interesting, but when was she going to find time to do this?
“Will you?”
“I love talking about local history, but I’m not keen. I don’t have the time, but Neil’s told me to find it, and he’ll get cover. He sees the value. It’s a subtle way of getting the church into the mainstream, and hopefully—”
“Free advertising for the church appeal.”
“Something like that.”
Joey studied Sam’s crestfallen features. She really was under too much pressure. Neil ought to know better. “I think you need another coffee.” Joey beckoned the waiter.
“Carrie could have phoned. I thought she was busy.”
“I told her that,” Sam said.
“She strikes me as a woman who doesn’t do anything without reason.”
Joey watched Sam’s grimace as her eyes narrowed. “I think her real modus operandi was to see you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She said something about showing you around, that you might want some excitement in your life,” Sam said.
Now Joey understood what lay behind the dull topic. Carrie had made Sam feel inadequate, as
if Sam might be compared to the voluptuous Carrie, a younger model, and be found wanting. If it was, Sam had nothing to worry about.
“I’m not interested. You show me around. I’m happy with that.” This time it was Joey who reached across the table to touch Sam’s hand.
“The right answer,” Sam whispered.
“Which reminds me.” Joey dug into her jeans pocket and handed a key over to Sam. “It’s to my place. Not that you ever have any spare time, but I’m working at home for the next few days. They’re doing some refurbishment of the offices, taking down ceilings that contain asbestos or something. They want us out of the way. Drop in for coffee…use the key, and don’t make me walk to the door to let you in.”
It was a couple of days later when Sam got the chance to test the key out. It was late afternoon and she was on her way back from a local hospice. She always tried to drop in there on a weekly basis regardless of whether anyone had asked for her or not. Sometimes the people there would talk, irrespective of whether they held religious belief. Her visits were often more for the families than the patients. The staff appreciated her presence too. They were often the forgotten army, the ones that dealt with life’s endings on a daily basis.
It was about four in the afternoon when Sam pushed the key into the lock and opened Joey’s door. She half expected to find her seated at the dining room table, its surface covered with paperwork and drawings. But while the latter was there, Joey wasn’t. There was just a cold half-full mug of coffee.
Sam called out her name but got no reply.
She crept toward her bedroom. Perhaps Joey was sleeping. Sam knew she suffered from nightmares and that a good night’s sleep was not part of Joey’s life anymore. Joey mentioned she grabbed sleep whenever she could.
As Sam quietly pushed the door open, she could see the curtains were partially closed and that the room was in shade. It looked as if Joey had taken a nap. The bed had been slept on, its top covers in disarray, but Joey wasn’t there. Sam was just beginning to think she might have popped out when she saw something move in the shadows of the far corner of the room. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, she saw someone crouched up tight on the floor with a blanket over their head.
