by I Beacham
Sam went to Elsa’s.
“Joey’s flown back to the States,” Elsa said.
“When’s she coming back?”
“She isn’t.” When Elsa saw the shock on Sam’s face, she said, “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“When did she leave?”
“Four days ago.”
Four days ago. Sam left Elsa’s and returned to the vicarage. How could Joey have left without saying anything?
She was gone, and Sam was devastated. She didn’t know what to do.
She found herself thinking of Louise. The church had won that day Sam made her decision. Now the church had won again. Resentment rose up in her. She had tried to change, to be there for Joey, but her desired actions were always blighted by ecclesiastical needs. Joey had seen this would never change. She’d had enough and left.
Sam nearly went crazy. She felt trapped.
By day, it seemed everywhere she went held the memory of Joey—places they had been, where they’d talked, where they’d laughed. Even St. Mary’s resonated with her, and the Sunday lunches at Neil and Miriam’s. Bike rides were unbearable. Joey wasn’t with her, up tight and close.
By night, Sam couldn’t stop thinking of her. She kept running through everything over and over. She remembered their conversation; she kept trying to work out how the outcome could have been different. But it was always the same. Joey was gone because Sam had failed her. She hadn’t given her the time and love she needed. And Sam had never known such loneliness.
Chapter Fifteen
Another month went by.
The devastating ripples of the coach accident occupied most of Sam’s time, but slowly, even those abated. The funerals took place, the spiritual counseling eased, and those pupils hospitalized made full recoveries. Even the church roof was going back on and great sheets of plastic within the building were disappearing. All was returning to a semblance of normality.
But not for Sam.
Sam struggled. She found it difficult to be upbeat. Listening to other people’s problems was difficult when her own weighed down on her. Since Joey’s departure, Sam had continued to send her emails, but it was as if they disappeared into thin air. She didn’t know where she’d gone.
One day, in desperation she’d gone to Elsa’s to try to obtain an address, but when Elsa wasn’t in, she’d driven on to Stallion Productions. They could only confirm that Joey was in the States. They said little else and didn’t give her any contact details—it wasn’t their policy. It was as if the earth had swallowed Joey up.
Time dragged on and people started talking of Christmas. The church began its preparations toward festive services. The scouts and local schools began rehearsing choral and nativity events. It was the time of year Sam normally enjoyed most, but this year her heart felt empty and barren because Joey wasn’t here to share it with her.
One afternoon, Sam was at St. Mary’s preparing for the next day’s Sunday service when she spied the Reverend Nicolas Bentley steaming down the aisle toward her. His face was red, and his body language oozed agitation. She knew she was in for confrontation. She wondered what topic it would be this time. She took a deep breath and waited.
Before she had time for simple courtesy, he spluttered all over her.
“You’re not going to do it, are you?”
“Nicolas, good afternoon. Do what?” Sam felt a tension headache building.
“Give a blessing to those two men. I’ve heard they’ve been to see you, and you’ve agreed.”
Bentley referred to Miles Crowther and Peter George, two gay men who were now married by civil law but who had approached him for a church blessing. He’d had options. He could have told them graciously that the Church of England did not yet give authorized services of blessings. Instead he’d taken perverse pleasure in letting them know he did not approve of their lifestyle, and had all but turned them away from his church. Miles and Peter had arrived at St. Mary’s upset and asking for clarity. Both were strong believers who only wanted the church’s sanctification on their fourteen-year relationship now recognized legally by the law.
It was fact the Church of England did not currently conduct same-sex marriages or authorize services of blessings in church, but there were maverick vicars who did unofficial blessings. Sam saw no reason to deny them this. If it meant she would be reprimanded afterward, she didn’t care. She’d told Miles and Peter she would do this. It was clear the word had got back to Nicolas.
“As long as I feel they are serious and understand the importance of what marriage is about, I see no reason to deny them,” Sam said. “If their love is real and they want it announced in the face of God, I won’t turn them away.”
“This is not recognized,” he spat. “There is no governing body consent.”
He stared back at her in fury. She couldn’t understand his opposition, but then, this was why the church was being tardy. It was to give people time to accept the inevitable changes that were coming. She reckoned Nicolas could be given a millennium and still wouldn’t change.
He scrunched his face up. “This has all gone too far. This sort of recognition is unacceptable. It really is intolerable. What next?”
Sam tried to remain dispassionate. Even his voice was unpleasant. It was brittle and bereft of compassion. His stance was always the same, his hands tight at his side. If he’d been a child, Sam would call his behavior a tantrum. Dear Lord, everything about him grated on her.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t be in the church.” Sam was beginning to lose her temper. His conduct with some of the parents was still fresh in her mind.
“I’m one of the few who are trying to protect the sanctity and pureness of the faith,” he said.
Sam stared at him, fighting to maintain control. She was shattered, both physically and mentally. Her nerves were frayed, and she felt pushed to the limits. She was under stress, she wasn’t sleeping, and the woman she loved had flown back to the U.S. without a word. To ask her to put up one more time with the sanctimonious crap coming out of Nicolas Bentley’s mouth was asking too much.
“I expect Bishop Neil will be replaced by a woman,” he sneered.
Sam recognized the statement for what it was. It was a cheap attempt to rile her. Nicolas was venting again about women’s position in the church. He was not an ardent supporter.
It was the final straw. Sam’s composure snapped.
“You know what, Nicolas? You’re the most miserable representation of a vicar I’ve ever come across.”
“I beg your pardon?” His shock and indignation echoed around the building. Busy parishioners preparing the church stopped what they were doing and looked over at them.
“You’re bigoted, full of your own self-importance, and you wonder why your church is losing parishioners?” She stabbed a finger his way. “If you tried treating them like human beings more, instead of the fire and brimstone approach, they might stay. Why…why would anyone want to come to you and share their personal problems? I wouldn’t.”
“How dare you!”
“Shut up. And don’t think I haven’t heard about your snide remarks behind my back about why I, a woman, should be the vicar of this large parish. I also didn’t like your comments about my unsuitability to be a canon. I don’t care a fig what you think about me. What I do care about is your total lack of empathy with another human being. You call yourself a representative of Christ? You do the church a grave injustice. You corrupt its moral integrity.”
“You think homosexual marriage represents moral integrity?” His red face looked ready to burst.
“Yes, I do. Couples should never be prevented from marrying unless there are good reasons—and loving someone of the same sex is not one of them, you ridiculous man.”
“I have never been so insulted in my life,” he huffed. “And don’t think I’m going to let you get away with this. The bishop will want to know what you’re about to do. I shall be making a complaint. I have witnesses.” His gaze shifted to the f
our people who were standing riveted, their mouths agape, watching the altercation. “You haven’t heard the last of this,” he puffed before storming out.
Sam watched him leave the church and kept her eye on the door as if expecting him to return. When she calmed enough to look around her, she came eye to eye with an elderly man. He had been placing programs in the pews. Now he stood like a deer in headlights. He said nothing, but managed a weak smile.
To her right was a woman directing flower arranging. She smiled too as she said, “Move the display a little to the left, Maureen.” This was done while making full eye contact with Sam. If Maureen did as she was bid, the flowers were about to fall off the stone shelving.
Sam turned and walked back to the pulpit. A woman stood with a large feather duster. She immediately resumed dusting with vigor. “I’m just cleaning this for you, Reverend. You can never have a too shiny pulpit.”
Sam stopped and exhaled. “I’m sorry, everyone. I lost my cool.”
The man in the pews spoke first. “I thought you were bloody marvelous. Not that I have any personal issues with Reverend Bentley, but his opinions are somewhat medieval.”
“You were like a knight on a steed,” one of the flower arrangers said. “All you need is a raised sword glinting in the light.”
“You have a cup of tea, Vicar. I’ll put the kettle on.” It was the woman with the feather duster. “Don’t know what we’d do if we lost you.”
Sam’s performance felt shameful. She’d created a scene. “Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping.”
“Nobody has, Vicar, not since the accident. It’s affected everyone indirectly. Everybody knows someone who’s been touched, and you’ve been at the coal face.” One of the women took her hand and led her to a seat. “I’ll fetch that tea. You have a few minutes’ rest.”
Sam cringed. They all thought the accident was the reason for her outburst. It wasn’t. It was Joey. How was she going to cope without her?
After the tea, Sam went back to the vicarage.
She was surprised to see Gloria still there. She was normally gone by lunchtime.
“I’ve defrosted the deep freeze, and I wanted to get everything back in.”
Gloria’s explanation seemed reasonable, but Sam knew she tended to do this chore in the spring, and always moaned about how much she hated it. She smelled a rat.
“Did it need it?” Sam asked.
“No.”
Sam frowned.
“I wanted to see you.” Gloria was looking at her like a lab specimen.
“Why?”
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Gloria’s concern shocked Sam.
“Well, are you?” Gloria repeated.
“I’m tired.”
“I’m not asking you about your energy levels. I’m asking if you are okay.”
Sam was about to say she was fine, but then everything snapped. Instead she burst into tears. Gloria was suddenly holding her in her arms, and Sam was sobbing.
“There, there,” Gloria said. “You cry it all out.”
For the second time in the day, guilt fell on Sam as she thought Gloria would think her behavior was to do with the accident. But she’d forgotten how astute Gloria could be.
“This is about Joey, isn’t it?”
Sam couldn’t answer as she extracted herself from Gloria and wiped her eyes with a tissue.
“You’re going to have to do something,” Gloria said.
“What?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know.”
“This isn’t helpful, Gloria.”
“It’s not supposed to be. I’m just telling it like it is.”
“I don’t know what to do either,” Sam confessed.
Gloria pursed her lips. “You could start by going to bed and having a decent night’s sleep. I expect everything will look clearer in the morning.”
“It hasn’t yet.” How could Sam sleep when she kept poring over and over what had happened.
“Well, maybe it will tomorrow.” Gloria’s sympathy was running out. It only ever lasted in short bursts.
Sam didn’t argue and went upstairs to change. When she came down, Gloria was gone, but there was a pot of tea and some scones on the kitchen table. It brought a smile to her lips as she sat down to it. Maybe she would feel better after a decent night’s sleep.
*
Sam awoke with purpose as the first ray of daylight crept through her curtains.
“Enough,” she said as she sprang out of bed.
Gloria’s predictions had proved accurate and everything seemed clearer. Sam would conduct the early morning service and then go and see Neil. There was something she had to tell him.
Instead of ringing Neil on his cell phone, she rang Ann, his secretary. This was official business and she would conduct it that way. As she waited for Ann to pick up, she prayed Neil wouldn’t be in another string of meetings. She wanted to get this over and done with. The thought of waiting another day or two wasn’t something she desired.
Ann ended up making Sam’s day. Not only was Neil not in meetings, he was working from home.
She drove over to his house and rang the bell.
The moment Miriam opened the door, her face lit up as it always did. It signified the depth of their friendship, but then her smile faded. She wasn’t used to Sam turning up during the week unless to a prearranged meeting.
“What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
“Hi, Miriam. I’m fine.” Sam tried to put her at ease, but it was difficult with a knotted stomach and a still present tension headache. This was likely to be a day they would all remember. “I need a chat with Neil.”
Miriam beckoned her inside. She lowered her voice as though to keep a secret. “He’s supposed to be working from home today, but he’s only just got up. He’s in the shower. Is it urgent?”
Sam managed to smile. “Yes, but it can wait until he’s done.”
They went through to a room off the kitchen where Miriam had been folding laundry. Sam watched as she carried on with her chores.
“Has this got anything to do with Bentley?” Miriam asked.
“Don’t tell me he’s spoken to Neil already?”
Her need to see Neil had nothing to do with him. Sam hadn’t given him a second thought after he’d left yesterday, but now reminded, she considered how typical of him to complain so quickly.
“He rang at eight o’clock last night and was on the phone for an hour. The man’s an ass.” Miriam was indignant.
“No arguments from me.”
At that moment, Neil appeared. He was casually dressed in a pair of jeans, a crisp white cotton shirt, and slippers. He smelled of fresh soap and aftershave.
“I hear you had a bit of a run-in with Bentley.” His deep voice was rich and warm; his eyes twinkled with humor. It was clear he found the whole episode amusing. “He can be a bit of hard work.”
“The man’s a prat.” Sam wasn’t in the mood for politeness where Nicolas Bentley was concerned.
“All God’s children.” Neil could be irritatingly virtuous at times.
“That’s not what you said last night,” Miriam chirped in. “Get off the fence.”
“He’s a prat,” Sam repeated.
Neil caught Miriam’s eye. “Okay, he is a prat, but I won’t repeat that in a court of law. He rang last night to complain about your insulting and demeaning behavior toward him. He also mentioned that you were planning to give a blessing to a same-sex couple in the church, which, of course, Sam, is a big no-no. I told him the issue was between two colleagues, and that I wasn’t going to interfere in that unless I have voluminous complaints from others…I haven’t yet. With regards to the blessing, I said I’d look into it.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed.
“Relax,” Neil said. “You haven’t done anything wrong yet, and after the blessing, when I find out, I’ll speak to you in a severe tone. When are you doing it?”
“A week on Saturday.”
/> “Come to lunch on the Sunday, and I’ll discipline you then. It’ll probably take a few minutes before sherry. Okay?”
“Is that it?” Sam couldn’t believe her heinous misdemeanor would be so lightly dealt with.
“You aren’t the first vicar to do this, and you won’t be the last. What do you want me to do, throw you into a pit of fire? Strip you of your dog collar in front of your peers? That’s Bentley’s style, not mine. It’s probably why I’m a bishop, and he isn’t.”
“Okay,” Sam said.
“Glad we’ve sorted that out. Is this why you want to see me?”
“No.”
They locked eyes. Sam knew Neil sensed the importance of why she was here. He was probably remembering their other nonsensical chat not so long ago.
“Are we going to talk about wood and carpentry again?”
“Yes, we are.”
“Then we should step into the office?”
“Probably best.”
Sam looked at Miriam hoping she wasn’t offended. She was already pushing them out of the utility space.
“You two carry on. I’ve sheets to fold.”
Sam followed Neil into the room he used as his office. It always felt like walking into a library. Every wall was shelved and covered with books. There were piles of them all around his desk. To say he was a prolific reader was an understatement. Most of the books were either historical or religious, or both. It was a love they both shared.
“This will be a bugger to pack,” Sam said, trying to quell her nerves.
“Don’t even go there. Miriam always gets bad tempered when we move. I’m dreading it.”
They glanced at one another and laughed. But then Neil became serious.
“Removal advice isn’t why you’re here. What is it, Sam?”
“I won’t beat around the bush, Neil. I want to leave the church.”
Neil sat down. Sam did too.
“Define leave,” he asked.
“It’s time for me to leave the church, to leave this role I have in life, and to stop being a vicar.” She paused at the enormity of what she was saying. It was the first time she was speaking her intent out loud. “I joined the church because I had a calling. Now something else…something stronger is calling me, and this time…this time, I’m going to answer it.”