by Chrys Cymri
A smile eased her face. ‘Yes, please.’
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My alarm dragged me out of bed at 7am. Although the sun was shining, it still felt far too early. I went through the motions of shower, dressing, breakfast, and Morning Prayer with Morey, Skylar, and Clyde. Then I backed my car out of the garage and drove to the diocesan office for a morning’s training on ‘Resilience in Ministry.’
Twenty other clergy sat in the stuffy room, pretending to be interested when they’d much rather have been spending Saturday with their families. I listened dutifully as the presenter explained that ‘recovery time is as much working time as working’ and that athletes followed this rule. So why didn’t priests? I glanced up at the woman’s trim figure and wondered how much time she spent in the gym.
After various graphs detailing how many clergy didn’t take their full time off, and how many had breakdowns in a year, we were set free to pour ourselves another helping of caffeine. I found myself wishing that I’d refilled my hip flask. When we returned from our break, a set of pie charts indicated how many ministers ‘self-medicated’ with cigarettes, drugs, or alcohol. I slumped down in my seat.
‘You’ll have about five minutes for this exercise,’ the presenter chirped. Her shoulder length black hair bounced as she moved from the flipchart to her laptop. ‘I’ll put the questions onscreen. Write down what comes to you first. Don’t take a lot of time to think about it. The first answer is usually the most truthful one.’
I squinted at the screen. The best experience you’ve had this month. The worst experience you’ve had this month. ‘Um, Alex,’ I said, hoping I’d remembered the woman’s name correctly. ‘Are we sharing our answers?’
‘They’re confidential,’ she assured me. ‘It’s only for you.’
So I wrote down, Best: Flying on a dragon’s back to meet merpeople. Worst: Changing a baby’s nappy.
‘And the next set of questions.’ The screen changed. Three activities which help you cope with the pressures of ministry. Three activities which add to your pressures.
I found myself smiling. Dragon rides. Watching ‘Doctor Who’. Then I grimaced, and added, Drinking whisky. Single malt. I rubbed my hand while I considered the next question. Negotiations with vampire magisters. Fund raising to pay parish share. Working with churchwardens.
The others at my table looked too busy with their own writing to pay any attention to my answers. I glanced up at the last question. Three people who help you cope with the pressures of ministry.
Well, that was easy. Clyde. Morey. Gregory. A snail’s love, a gryphon’s loyalty, and a spiritual director’s wisdom. What more could I ask for?
‘Time’s up,’ Alex announced. ‘Now, have a look at what you’ve written. And ask yourself, how do I divide up my time? Am I spending too much time on activities that make me feel more under pressure? And how much time am I spending with my nearest and dearest? Are they losing out?’
‘My husband and I have date nights,’ one clergywoman volunteered. ‘We don’t let anything else get in the way.’
Another priest nodded. ‘My wife and I make sure all of our holidays are planned by the end of January. It’s so important to have that time together.’
My hand drifted over my workbook. I didn’t want to look down at the list of names. The fact that Peter’s was missing made my head pound. I poured myself a glass of water and took several deep gulps to settle my stomach.
We were set free just before 1pm. The drive from Kettering to Northampton tried my patience, and I was ready for my lunch as I pulled up on my drive.
The smell of baking bread met me as I opened the front door. Laughter rang from the kitchen. I walked through the hall and peered through the open door. James was standing at the long central counter, an apron over his shirt and trousers, his exposed arms white with flour. A tray of finished scones rested on the table, and he was busily kneading more dough. Skylar leaned against the other side of the counter, her fingers creeping towards the mixing bowl. James playfully slapped her hands away.
I hated to interrupt the happy scene, but I desperately needed something to eat. ‘Hello, you two,’ I said as I strolled inside. ‘James, I had no idea you knew how to bake.’
‘As I’ve told my sister,’ James told Skylar, ‘I somehow managed to survive on my own in New Zealand. Of course I know how to cook. And I thought, well, until I sort out a place of my own, maybe it’s time I took my turn in getting dinner ready.’
‘And the scones?’ I asked.
‘Oh, they’re just because I felt like it.’ He gave the tray a nod. ‘Those should have cooled down by now. There’s clotted cream and strawberry jam in the fridge.’
‘After I’ve had my lunch,’ I said. ‘I’ll look forward to it. Been a long time since I’ve had a cream tea.’
‘I’ve never had one,’ Skylar said. ‘That’s why James said he’d do some baking.’
I made my sandwich and then, feeling vaguely in the way, went outside into the warm sunshine to eat. The bench was dry, and only issued a mild protest as I sat down. I munched on bread and cheese, my mind already turning to the sermon I needed to polish up for Sunday.
Clyde emerged from the bushes and came to sit beside me. A moment later, Jago dropped down to the other side. I wordlessly offered each of them a piece of cheddar. The snail chewed enthusiastically, but the gryphon looked less impressed.
‘Tell her,’ Clyde said to Jago, his tentacles weaving words.
Jago’s crest waved as he nodded. ‘Uncle Clyde says that the Community will take in most of the snails. Some of the pups need to grow up a bit first, so he hopes that’s okay.’
‘Of course that’s okay,’ I said slowly. ‘Clyde, there’s no rush. I mean, at some point, when the pups grow up, the back garden won’t be big enough to hold everyone. But we’ll think of something. They don’t have to go to the Community, if they don’t want to.’
The snail shark touched my hand with his tentacles, then did some more signing at Jago. ‘The Community is a good place for them. And Uncle Clyde understands. You’ll want the garden for human pups.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Just like Uncle Peter said,’ Jago continued. ‘Please let Peter know that Uncle Clyde is doing as he asked.’
‘Is he, indeed,’ I muttered. ‘And just when did this conversation take place?’
Confusion was colouring the snail with orange. He opened his jaws to speak for himself. ‘Last week.’
I reached into my trousers, pulled out my iPhone, and turned it on. As it powered up, I told Clyde, ‘There’s no rush. Take your time.’
Peter didn’t answer his phone. I sent a text, asking him to contact me. Then, although I was not in the mood for it, I went inside and forced myself to work on my sermon.
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Peter and James, the latter with Jago on his shoulder, were in St Wulfram’s on Sunday. I felt something inside me ease as I passed my fiancé at the start of the service. Skylar threw a smile at James, and I wondered if the bats had taken note.
I gave the final blessing and Skylar issued the dismissal. When we emerged from the vestry, the elderly women in the congregation were fussing over the two much younger men. The flower arrangers pulled Peter to one side to confer over the placing of the pedestals. Afterwards, as we walked to the local pub for lunch, he asked me, ‘Why did they talk to me? I thought the bride was the one who cared about the flowers.’
I laughed as I threaded my arm through his. ‘They know me all too well. Plants are just not my thing.’
The Five Bells pub, named after those which hung in St Wulfram’s tower, was a whitewashed building under a thatched roof. Peter opened the wooden door, and we went to the snug. At the back of the room, set off to one side, was a small cubicle. Peter and I ordered our beers and lunch, then settled at the table.
We sipped from our drinks and discussed upcoming science fiction movies. Then Peter sighed. ‘I'm sorry, Penny. I know you texted me yes
terday afternoon. It’s been a bit hectic. What did you want to talk about?”
‘Clyde’s making arrangements for the rabble to leave the vicarage.’
‘Well, that’s for the best, isn’t it?’ He reached over and took my hand in his own. ‘Think about it. We’ll be wanting Alice and her family to come over for visits. The back garden needs to be safe for Katherine and Luke.’
‘Clyde would never have let any snail shark lay a single tooth on a child.’
‘Well, that’s Clyde. But can he really vouch for the rest of them?’ Peter gave my fingers a squeeze. ‘You can understand, can’t you? I just want my family to be safe.’
I met his gaze. ‘Clyde is family. And I want him to be safe.’
‘Don’t worry, I know he’s part of the deal.’ Peter released my hand and buttered a piece of bread. ‘Just like my Lego Millennium Falcon.’
‘When Skylar moves out, it can go into the box room.’ I winced. ‘It’ll probably take up most of the floor.’
‘There’s an updated version coming out--’
I waved my butter knife at him. ‘Don’t you dare.’
‘One Millennium Falcon is fun,’ Peter said. ‘Two is getting--crowded.’
‘If Clyde is family,’ I replied, ‘then he also has a say about who lives with us.’
‘Within reason?’ Peter’s blue-grey eyes searched mine. ‘You have to admit, the garden won’t be big enough when all those snail pups mature.’
‘Seems they’re going go live with the Community.’ I chewed thoughtfully at my piece of rye bread. ‘And maybe some of them could act as Associates or Familiars, if the humans they partner don’t need someone who finds it easy to talk.’
‘That could work.’ Peter cleared his throat. ‘I logged into the work computer this morning. Pike’s filed his report. About Raven’s exorcism.’
‘It wasn’t an exorcism,’ I said, keeping my tone mild. ‘Raven wasn’t possessed by a demon. He was affected by a spirit. Clyde’s mother. From that Spirit Ceremony.’
‘And it happened in Earls Barton Man’s garden?’
‘That’s where Raven took us, under the influence of the Noble Leader. She was drawn back to where she had died.’
Our main course arrived, and we waited until we were alone again. ‘Pike could only write about what he and Morfran saw after they’d arrived. But, from what they’ve said about EBM’s garden, a lot must have happened before then.’
‘We flew over from Lloegyr,’ I said, poking at my slice of roast beef. ‘Clyde, Raven, and me.’
‘So he didn’t show any signs of being, well, disturbed, until you were coming back. What started him off?’
‘Saying the Lord’s Prayer.’
‘Why were you saying the Lord’s Prayer? Raven doesn’t strike me as the church-going type.’
I bought some time by eating some of my lunch. ‘I was asked to say it. By some of the vampire colony.’
‘What vampire colony?’
‘One that’s headed towards Llanbedr.’
‘Why are they headed towards Llanbedr, and why were you visiting them?’ Then his palm slapped the table, making me jump and several nearby diners glance over at us. ‘Penny, are we really going to play “Twenty Questions”? Please, just tell me what you were doing in Lloegyr. Why were you visiting vampires on the back of a dragon possessed by the spirit of an evil snail shark?’
I found myself chuckling. ‘And there’s a sentence you don’t hear every day.’
‘No, it isn’t.’ Peter was still serious. ‘And I’m waiting.’
‘Colonies of vampires have been crossing over into Britain.’ My mouth was suddenly dry, so I took a moment to gulp some beer. The bitter flavour of the ale did little to dispel the taste in my mouth. ‘Sue Harkness asked me to visit one colony to find out why they’re so desperate to leave. And they are, Peter. Desperate. While I was there, the people from the local town attacked their camp. It was terrible. Tents burned down, people died, and now they have even less than before.’
‘Their reputation goes before them.’ He raised his hands defensively at my look. ‘Yes, I feel sorry for them. But it’s true. Think about it. Vampires. Blood sucking and all that.’
I pointed my fork at my plate. ‘At least the animal still lives after they’ve had their meal.’
‘You’re not telling me that Lloegyr vampires only fed on animals.’
‘No, they didn’t,’ I admitted. ‘But that doesn’t mean that they should be attacked when they’re just trying to pass through.’
Peter thought it over for a moment, then nodded. ‘Well, yes, you’re right about that.’
‘And Sue Harkness doesn’t want the problem to end up here. She says we need to guard our borders.’
‘Penny, don’t.’ Peter leaned forward. ‘I know that look. This isn’t our problem. It’s way above our pay grade. Please. You’ve done your duty to Queen and country by visiting the colony. Please don't go back a second time.’
I quickly lifted my beer, hiding my face behind the glass. When I felt I had my expression under control, I lowered the tankard and said, ‘But if you saw how they have to live--’
‘I’ve seen how people in this country live,’ Peter said grimly. ‘You put on the uniform, and you see everything. We have enough problems already. Sue has a point about strong borders.’
‘Next thing you’ll tell me,’ I muttered, ‘is that you voted for Brexit.’
‘Of course.’
I nearly choked. ‘But, Peter, you of all people--’
‘I want to look after who’s already here,’ he said firmly. ‘And, no, I’m not a racist, as you well know. I mean everyone who’s already here, no matter where they came from originally. We’re a small country, and we have finite resources. I take it you voted Remain.’
‘Yes. Immigration brings many benefits to our country, as does being part of a larger union.’
Peter laughed. ‘I can see we’re going to have some interesting debates about politics.’
I concentrated on eating some of my lunch. Then I asked, ‘Is Her Majesty’s Government paying for the repairs to EBM’s garden?’
‘Yes. Again.’ Peter sighed. ‘The man knows something, well, unusual happened. He thinks Pike had him sign the Official Secrets Act, so we’re hoping he’ll keep his mouth shut.’
‘Police officers carry copies of the Official Secrets Act?’
‘Not really,’ Peter said. ‘Just something very official looking, to cover these sorts of incidences. Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if he looks to sell up and move. I plan to ask Sue if her office could give him some assistance.’
We moved onto safer topics. But I couldn’t help but think of the vampire colony, forced to travel from place to place, unable to find a home in their own land. Perhaps my country couldn’t take in all of them, but surely England could find a place for at least this one colony? Many times, during our meal, I thought to raise this with Peter. But then I remembered that he agreed with Sue Harkness, and I swallowed my words. If I did do anything, it would have to be on my own.
Chapter Twenty-Two
James and Skylar arrived back at the vicarage late Sunday evening. The welcome smell of coffee met me as I staggered into the kitchen the next morning, along with the vision of my brother fully dressed and shaved. ‘There are croissants in the oven,’ he said, explaining the second smell which was making my stomach rumble. ‘I picked them up yesterday, so they’re still pretty fresh.’
Several sets of house details were spread across the kitchen table. ‘Flats, mostly,’ James said, noticing my glance. ‘A couple in Northampton, and one on a new estate near Kettering.’
I collected coffee and croissant, then took a seat. ‘Have you been to visit any of them yet?’
‘My first viewing’s on Wednesday.’ He gave me a lop-sided grin. ‘I’m hoping to be out of your hair by the time of the wedding. You and Peter don’t need your little brother hanging around. You know, three’s a crowd and all that.’
‘You’re family,’ I said firmly. ‘This is your home as long as you want it to be. Peter’s happy with that.’
‘And you might want the bedroom for something else.’ At my look, he added, ‘Storage. I mean, combining the stuff from two houses into one.’
I pulled over the paperwork. ‘This flat looks nice. Two beds, access to a gym. If you avoid rush hour, it’s only a thirty-minute drive from Kettering to Northampton.’
‘I’d like to stay near you,’ James admitted, blushing slightly. ‘And Skylar.’
‘About Skylar.’ I waited until he looked at me. ‘She’s not another one of your conquests.’
‘Pen, really, what sort of guy do you think I am?’
‘The kind who changes his girlfriend like some people change their socks.’ I held up a hand as he started to protest. ‘Think about it, James. If you really want to make a go at this with Skylar, how’s she supposed to take you seriously if you’re texting other women on the side? She has the right to expect you to be faithful to her. And, if you decide to break it off, you’ll do it cleanly before you start seeing someone else.’
James coughed. ‘Yeah, well, she said pretty much the same to me. But I also think there was some threat to my anatomy if I didn’t keep to it.’
‘I changed too many of your nappies to want to do damage to your anatomy.’
‘Thanks for that reminder. Do me a favour, and don’t go on about it around Skylar? Real turn-off to a girlfriend, that sort of information.’
I laughed. ‘Deal.’
‘I saw a few more flats online. Let me show you.’ James pulled out his iPhone and started scrolling. I smiled as he became distracted by messages and Facebook. Although it was time he found a place of his own, I felt a pang at the thought of not seeing him at my kitchen table every day. Except for his time in New Zealand, he’d lived with me all of his life. I watched blond hair flop over his forehead, and resisted the temptation to reach out and tidy it for him. He would always be my brother, but he was no longer my child.
Papers scattered as Morey and then Jago landed on the table. Skylar appeared a few minutes later. Once Clyde came in through the cat flap, we went into the study for Morning Prayer. Although James remained in the kitchen, even he joined in saying the Lord’s Prayer.
