‘Yeah? Right. What you wearing, Eves?’
‘Dunno. White dress. How funny!’ She burst into peals of laughter. Adam tightened his grip on her arm.
Evie’s mother looked up briefly, her eyes flickering between the pair of them.
‘Make an odd couple, you do,’ she said. ‘Can’t believe she caught you.’
‘Caught me?’
‘You being a vicar and her – not.’
‘We are in love, Mrs Witts. You can count on my being the best husband to her you could ever wish for.’
‘Can I now? You’ll need a bloody tight rein, vicar, if you don’t mind my saying.’
The blood rushed to his groin. A tight rein on Evie. Her luscious body, wound around with thin leather straps, her breasts round and prominent, her bottom framed by the shiny bonds. He, with his hand on the leash, leading her across the lawn. I have to keep you like this, my love, so that your wicked impulses cannot be indulged. I have to hold you in check. Why had she had to say that?
‘Oi, ma,’ objected Evie. ‘I’ll be a brilliant vicar’s wife. Do all that baking and flower-arranging and visiting the sick and whatnot. Just watch me.’
Her mother turned back to the eggs.
‘Yeah,’ she said listlessly. ‘When’s the big day then?’
‘After the Harvest Festival,’ said Adam. ‘The weekend after.’
‘Course it is, love,’ she said. ‘Course it is.’
‘Your mother is a strange woman,’ commented Adam, entering the wedding date into the church ledger.
‘Funny, coming from you,’ snorted Evie. She twirled around the altar steps, her heels tip-tapping on the old, cold stone. ‘They don’t come a lot stranger than the Reverend Adam Flint. Should I call you Reverend? What does it mean? Am I meant to revere you?’
He looked over at her.
‘Don’t do that.’ She had her palms down on the altar cloth, as if she were contemplating climbing aboard.
‘Why not?’
He took her by the arm and marched her swiftly into the nave.
‘Do we really need to have a chat about respecting the sacred character of the church?’ he asked, shaking his head. ‘My church?’
‘Your church? Ain’t it God’s?’
‘Evie, this will never work if you can’t learn to control your impulses. You don’t have to voice every single thing that comes into your head, and neither do you have to do everything your body tells you to.’
She put her head to one side, coquettish, irresistible.
‘Aw, where’s the fun in that?’ she said. She put out a finger and prodded at his chest, moving it down towards his stomach. ‘I thought you liked my impulses. Like, right now, I’ve got this really strong impulse to touch you.’
‘This is the house of God,’ he whispered.
‘He ain’t in. Nobody can see us.’
She put her hand on his waist and stood on tiptoe, brushing her nose against his.
‘Give us a kiss.’
The scent of her, its warmth and spice, was a drug, confounding his senses. You could kiss a woman in church, couldn’t you? You may now kiss the bride. It didn’t break any rules.
He cupped her face and darted forward, meeting her challenge, pressing his lips to hers. She moaned with pleasure and held on to the back of his neck, massaging it with her fingertips while the kiss deepened in intensity.
It was like scratching the worst and most persistent itch, Adam thought. She was a mosquito who had been biting him over and over and over all summer and now he finally had the antidote. If she bit him again, he could bite her back. The relief sank into him like balm, while his tongue sank inside her mouth, embedded in her warmth and wetness.
He was a drowning man, but he wanted to drown.
When his eyes half-opened, the first thing they saw from their blurred corners was the crucifix that hung over the altar. The nailed Christ looked down upon them, sorrowful and crowned with thorns.
Adam broke away and wiped his mouth.
‘Not in here,’ he said apologetically.
‘I want to do it on the altar,’ said Evie, trying to lure him into another kiss, but he shook her off.
‘Don’t be so blasphemous,’ he growled, trapped in the agony of an erection that couldn’t be used. ‘I’m serious, Evie. You need to learn to control yourself. What will it take?’
‘Perhaps you should spank me,’ she suggested, hitching up her red silk skirt until it sat just above her thighs. She bent over teasingly, presenting her bottom through the tight scarlet cladding.
Adam put his hands over his face.
‘Go on, Adam. Teach me a lesson. Make me a good girl for you.’
With an incoherent cry, he turned on his heel and strode up the nave, taking deep breaths as he walked towards the light from the open door.
‘Oh, don’t be like that,’ she called, running after him and taking his arm. ‘Don’t go all uptight on me again. I just can’t help myself around you. You’re so much fun to tease.’
‘You can’t marry a man just because you like teasing him,’ he muttered, entering the churchyard.
‘It’s more than that. Hey. Don’t give me daggers. I love you, vicar. Honest, I do. I love you so much I want you to take me to bed right now and give me the seeing-to of my life.’
‘We have to wait,’ said Adam, although it was closer to a shout.
‘Why? You didn’t wait for that other girl, the one that popped your cherry. Why should I have to? Ain’t I as good as her?’
‘That’s not … That was meaningless. I didn’t ever want to marry her. I want to marry you. I want our wedding night to be special.’
‘That’s so sweet. But it’ll be special whether you fuck me now or not. It’ll be special ’cos it’s our wedding night and we’ll be together.’
‘I want to do everything the right way. For you, Evie. I want to treat you the way you should be treated. Not the way you’re used to. The way you deserve.’
She was quiet for a minute, the usual breezy repartee knocked from her by Adam’s words.
‘The way I deserve?’ she said, and Adam saw a shimmering in her eyes. ‘What’s that then?’
‘Like the precious, amazing soul that you are, that you’re capable of being. I don’t think anyone’s ever really cared for you, Evie. It’s always been about what they could take from you. I want to care for you. So much. I want to show you what you’re worth.’
She inhaled a ragged breath. ‘Fancy words,’ she said, but her voice was uneven.
‘Words from the heart,’ he said firmly. ‘Words that are meant.’
‘I suppose you’d think the same of me if I looked like an old sock, would you?’
‘Evie, don’t. Nothing you can do or say will ever change the way I feel about you. I love you absolutely. I always will.’
She smiled, but she still looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment.
‘So you’re saying a quick knee-trembler’s out of the question, are you?’
He shook his head with fond exasperation then bent to kiss her gently on the lips.
‘Until we’re married,’ he said. ‘Then you can have as many as you like.’
‘Right. You’d better take me down the pub, then. Let’s have an engagement party.’
Adam felt like the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo as he entered the bar of the Fleece with Evie on his arm.
All eyes swivelled over to him and he held Evie’s hand up deliberately high, drawing attention to the sparkling diamond on her ring finger.
‘Evening, vicar, Evie,’ said the landlord, looking up from his pump. ‘What’ll it be?’
Evie got in first.
‘Drinks all round,’ she announced, turning to the room. ‘To celebrate my engagement to our lovely vicar here. Go and tell them outside.’
There was an immediate scrum for the bar. Adam was buffeted this way and that by passing backslappers while the women all crowded around Evie to coo at the ring. A few vi
llagers muttered congratulations to him, but nobody seemed to want to catch his eye.
Indeed, it was Evie who got all the attention while Adam stood on the sidelines, sipping at his mineral water. They moved outside into the beer garden, making the most of the mellow evening sunshine.
At a table by the swings, they spotted Sebastian, Kasia and some of their entourage. Evie ran over to them while Adam followed at a slower pace, rehearsing some lines that he imagined would be immeasurably satisfying to deliver.
‘You’re marrying the vicar?’ Kasia’s tone suggested that Evie had announced her engagement to a toad.
‘Yes, she is,’ he confirmed, pulling up alongside Evie and taking her hand. ‘So I hope you’ll have her P45 ready on Monday morning.’
Sebastian stared. ‘We’re starting filming on a new feature tomorrow. Evie’s the star. After all the press coverage we got, she’s our biggest asset.’
‘Not any more. She’s my biggest asset now.’
‘Can you see the headlines?’ said Kasia slyly. ‘Vicar weds porn star.’
‘I’ll stand by her. I don’t care what anyone says. People can change. And Christianity, after all, is about forgiveness and finding redemption.’
‘I don’t think she’s done anything that needs to be forgiven,’ said Sebastian. ‘And if you do, then you’re not right for her. Evie, have you thought this through? Is it really what you want?’
‘You’ll have to postpone filming Lesbian Discipline,’ said Evie.
‘I can’t. Everything’s set for tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow’ll be too soon,’ she said stonily.
Adam glanced at her. Too soon? What did she mean by that?
He didn’t have time to think about it, though, because he was sharply tugged away by a hand on his forearm.
‘Julia.’
‘You’re engaged to her?’
‘Yes.’
They walked to the barn where functions were sometimes held and stood by the door, leaving Evie with her erstwhile work colleagues.
‘The wedding’ll never happen,’ said Julia bluntly.
‘I’ve booked it. It’s in the church planner. I just need to hire the hall and do something about a reception.’
‘When’s it booked for?’
‘End of the month. The weekend after harvest festival.’
‘Weekend after? Well, if you want to marry her that much, go ahead. But if I were you, I’d get a special license. Marry her before harvest festival.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’ll still be alive then.’
‘What the …?’
‘Suggest it to her. Go on. See what she says.’
Adam emptied the bitter dregs of his over-lemony water on to the grass.
‘You aren’t jealous, are you?’
‘As a matter of fact, I am. Why wouldn’t I be, Adam? I love you, after all. But you don’t love me, so there’s an end to it.’
She turned and walked away. Adam looked after her. Something urged him to follow her, to apologise, or plead, or … That curious pull she had. He fought it until she was out of the beer garden and out of sight.
He looked back at Sebastian and Kasia’s table. Evie was no longer there. He scanned the garden, searching for her among the knots of drinkers and laughers, smokers and jokers. She was nowhere to be seen.
He strode over to Sebastian.
‘Where did Evie go?’
Sebastian shrugged.
‘You’ll need to keep tabs on her better than that,’ he said maliciously. ‘She’s gone with the wind, that one.’
The words were an echo of her mother’s warning. Warnings everywhere today. Should he heed them? He was past that now.
He went inside, ducking under the lintel of the low door, pushing through the crush of drinkers, careless of their pints spilling over the rims of the glasses as he shoved. In the lounge bar, no sign of her either. At the foot of the stairs, he was assaulted with a horrible memory of the time she’d been up there with Trevelyan.
No, she wouldn’t be up there now. She wouldn’t. She knew she belonged to him.
Perhaps she had gone back to the vicarage. He crossed the lane hurriedly and ran through the lych gate, calling her name. Then he stopped. He could hear something. It was coming from the church porch.
Heavy breathing, panting, grunting. Someone was having sex right in the doorway of the church.
Recoiling in disgust, but filled with righteous anger, Adam marched up the path towards St Jude’s. The first thing he saw was a hairy male backside, flexing as it thrust, jeans around ankles. A pair of shapely brown legs was wrapped around the man’s waist. The shoes. Those shoes. Those scarlet high heels.
‘No,’ he shouted, lurching forwards. ‘No, you can’t.’
He saw dark curls spilling back, crimson nails clinging to the man’s shoulders.
‘Get off her!’ he screamed, but the man paid no attention at all, intent on his fucking.
Adam felt as if he were in one of those nightmares where your voice won’t come out, however hard you try to yell. It seemed that neither of them could or would hear him.
He tried one last time.
‘Evie!’
She began to gasp and keen.
‘Oh fuck, yes,’ she wailed, hanging on to the man for dear life. ‘Fuck yes, I’m coming, lover. Give it to me.’
The man pistoned hard and then roared.
Adam grabbed him around the neck, yanking him back, before punching him hard in the face.
‘Adam!’
Evie looked down at the man’s inert form.
‘You’ll get yourself arrested.’
‘You … You …’ Adam was having no more luck with coherent speech. He stared at Evie, who stared back.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said at last.
The felled man managed to push himself into a sitting position.
‘Sorry, vicar,’ he said. ‘I suppose I asked for that.’
‘You ain’t going to tell, are you, Dan?’
‘No. I’ll get off now, then.’
‘Go and bathe that cut lip, lover.’
‘Yeah.’
Adam simply watched the man shamble off. His eyes wouldn’t seem to stop popping and he felt trapped in something; a thick, oppressive air that stopped up his breath and roared in his ears.
Evie touched his arm. The action brought him back to life and he fended her off before turning to the church wall and resting his head against the cool, rough stone, letting his legs bend until he had slid down to a crouching position, in which he rocked and moaned.
‘Why? Why? Why me, O Lord? Why?’
‘Adam,’ said Evie nervously from somewhere behind him. ‘I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t think anyone not from here would. But there was a reason why I had to do that. I didn’t want to. I’d rather wait for you. But something – something means I can’t do that. Oh God, if you can’t forgive me, we’re all lost …’
He turned, sitting with his back to the wall, staring up at her with tear-leaking eyes.
‘What do you mean? What is making you do this? Evie, once and for all, just tell me the truth.’
‘You won’t believe me.’
‘Try me.’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Evie!’
‘But I can show you. At the Harvest Festival. I’ll show you what makes me this – sex machine.’ She laughed miserably. ‘And once we’re married …’
‘Married?’ Adam screwed his eyes shut in a futile effort of resistance against the tears. ‘I’m a laughing stock. You have made me a laughing stock.’
‘If you don’t want me, I can’t make you,’ she whispered. ‘But that’s up to you. I’m leaving it all up to you. Goodnight, lover.’
Through blurred and squinting eyes, Adam watched her back as she swayed up the path to the lych gate.
Everything he wanted in life was contained in those curves, but she had corrupted herself beyond his endurance now. She had
been unfaithful to him, and would probably continue to be so. He should never have come back.
Chapter Fifteen
MRS WITTS HAD excelled herself, and so had her gang of village cronies. The trestle tables in the church hall were thick with produce, the snowy cloths barely visible underneath it all. Huge baskets of fruit and vegetables, tureens of soup, plaited loaves, giant cakes, gargantuan pies – plenty as far as the eye could see.
‘It’s almost indecent,’ said Adam, walking between the aisles. ‘That one village should produce this bounty while elsewhere in the world people starve.’
‘Well, the leftovers’m going to the old people’s home, ain’t they?’ said Mrs Witts. ‘That’s charity.’
‘It seems wrong, somehow, to feast like this.’
‘It’s tradition. A harvest supper. A celebration of how good – God has been to us.’
‘You believe, Mrs Witts?’
Adam stopped pacing and smiled at his housekeeper. She set down the pie she was carrying, took off her oven gloves and passed a hand over her reddened brow.
‘Well, y’know. I can’t say one way or another. I’m on the fence, let’s say.’
‘I hope I can bring you over to my side. Won’t you come to Sunday service tomorrow, at least? Make up your mind one way or the other?’
‘I dunno about that, vicar.’ She went to look through the window, across to the village green which lay beyond the tree-lined walls of the church grounds. ‘They’ll be setting up out there.’
‘Setting up what?’
Adam joined her, seeing heads bobbing up and down, some kind of structure being erected.
‘The after-party. After the feast.’
‘What are they making?’
‘Corn dollies. Giant-sized, like.’
‘Oh. And is this a typical Saxonhurst party?’
He asked, not wanting to hear the answer, not wanting to know that his devout gathering would turn into a bacchanalian orgy, like everything in this village did.
‘I don’t think this one will be,’ said Mrs Witts after a pause. ‘This’ll be different.’ She turned to him and looked behind her to make sure nobody was listening in. ‘Our Evie misses you,’ she said.
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