by Ivan B
“Don’t worry, I’m OK, I don’t think they meant any harm.”
“Oh yes they did,” said Danielle vehemently. “And it’s so unfair. The old bags upset you and we can’t do anything about it. I would like to pour some custard over the old bat’s fruit salad.”
“It’s all right. I’ll get used to it.”
Peter smiled.
“Oh no you don’t. You don’t have to get used to it at all. There is a solution.”
Jo and Danielle both turned their eyes on him.
“We go on the offensive.”
He then explained to them what he meant.
The following morning Peter took eight o’ clock communion. He was thankful that this would be the last time for a few months. In truth he was feeling like death warmed over, having not got to sleep until after three o’clock in the morning. However, for once his anti-migraine tablets seemed to be working and he knew that he was getting better, not worse. The mid-morning service turned out to be wonderful. For a start, Dan and David played music before and after the service together. They must have practiced hard because their performance was seamless and the music quite beautiful. The congregation was obviously behind Charmian and their and support was almost tangible. It was also obvious that Charmian was delighted to be presiding at communion at long last. When the service was over, and Charmian had given the blessing, Peter motioned for her to sit down rather than process out. She looked bemused, but sat down in her stall. Marjorie came forward and used the lectern microphone.
“I’ve been looking at the parish records,” she said. “The last time we had a curate here was twenty years ago, and he only came in his final year, he was not ordained while here.” Marjorie turned to face Charmian; “we could not let this occasion go by without giving you something to show our appreciation of your ministry among us.”
Marjorie waved a hand and Bunty came forward carrying a clothes hanger, on it was a full set of communion stoles. All were hand-made, and all were exquisite. Peter knew what they were; he had browsed through some catalogues with her and she had once pointed these stoles out as being on her wish list. Charmian was almost overcome with the occasion and speechless. She managed to say a thank you before standing, but Marjorie did not move; instead she handed the microphone to the Major. He made his usual Harrumph noise.
“Not wishing to detract from Charmian’s day we cannot let this day pass without also celebrating the fact that our vicar and Jo have gotten engaged. Whilst it is twenty years to our last curate, it is almost three hundred years since we had a vicar who got engaged here.”
The Major turned and faced Peter; “we would also like to mark your engagement with a gift, so if Jo would like to come forward…”
Jo hesitantly rose from her seat at the back and walked down to the front to stand by Peter. She was wearing a long very light pink dress, a white cardigan, her choker and a minimum of jewelry and make-up –that is a minimum of jewelry and make-up by Jo’s standards. Somehow, to Peter, she looked very small and very vulnerable. The major gave a small wave; Sam and Henry came forward; between them they were very carefully carrying a large box.
“For those at the back,” said the Major, “this is a bone china dinner set with additions.”
Now it was the turn of Peter and Jo to be dumbstruck. After a few moments’ silence, Jo leaned over and spoke into Peter’s radio mike.
“I’m not very good at speeches, but I would like to thank you all for two things. Firstly, for the welcome and the friendship you have shown me since I came here five years ago and secondly for this marvelous and unexpected present. Thank you all; thank you very much.”
Dan then started up on the organ and the service was over.
At the after service coffee, Jo and Peter again were congratulated by many people. About half an hour after the service had ended and while Charmian was cutting her cake, Peter and Jo started to put their plan into action. Jo went to the toilet and a few seconds later Danielle went there as well. She was carrying her large backpack. Fifteen minutes later Jo emerged. This was the Jo that Peter had grown to love. She had on almost every bangle, stud and ring possible, including two different diameter rings in her nose. She had deep blue lipstick, green eye shadow, fluorescent purple eyeliner and orange mascara; this was all on an almost white foundation that would probably rival icing in its thickness. In addition her rat’s tail had become bright ginger. She was still wearing the choker, but the dress had been changed for a skin-hugging short-sleeved grey-blue jumper and a denim skirt. To finish off, she had pink tights and chunky black ankle boots with the addition of a two-inch wide royal blue bangle on her left ankle. Peter smiled. If she had appeared like this in almost any other congregation they would be running for the doors; but this was St Nathaniel’s and Jo had been among them for five years so no-one in the congregation batted an eyelid. Peter took Jo by the hand and walked into the body of the church. The two old biddies from the Cathedral were sitting in a pew drinking their tea with two more ladies. Peter led Jo to the pew in front of them and they entered it and sat down, both turning to face the old ladies. Peter noticed Danielle quietly slipping into the pew behind.
“Hello ladies,” said Peter brightly.
They were greeted with a chorus of hellos and the two extras gave their congratulations. Peter was still holding Jo’s hand and he could feel her trembling, though whether this was from rage or nervousness he did not know. Peter looked directly at the lady with the salad hat.
“I believe you wanted to say something to us.”
She looked genuinely mystified, “No, I don’t think so.”
Jo smiled, “I believe it was something to do with art.”
“Art?”
“Picasso, I think.” Said Jo.
Her companion turned bright red.
“Something about having one retouched.”
The woman was speechless and she had nowhere to run to as her friends hemmed her in the pew.
She mumbled, “It was only a comment.”
Peter decided to put her out of her misery. He said firmly, but gently, “Let me make one thing clear; if anyone has a comment about my appearance, or my fiancées, then please, can they say it to our face? If a comment is worth making then the one whom it is about has the right to hear what you have to say. Am I making myself clear?”
The woman nodded. Peter and Jo left the pew. Once out of sight of the ladies she gave a huge smile.
“I regret to say I enjoyed that.”
Peter put his arm round her shoulders and gave her a hug. She motioned.
“I’d better go and change back before the buffet lunch.”
Peter didn’t let go of her.
“You don’t have to. I’m an expert in body language and at the moment you feel comfortable; before you changed you were a little awkward.”
Jo looked at Peter.
“Do you mean that?”
“That you looked awkward?”
“No. That you don’t mind if I don’t change back.”
“Yes.”
“The only problem is that these woolen tights are killing me.”
“Well, take them off.”
Jo squeezed Peter’s hand and went back into the loo; this time she took the backpack herself. After a few moments Danielle came up to Peter.
“Wicked!” She said. “You should have heard them after you left. Old salad hat’s companion said that she deserved every word of that.”
Peter looked at Danielle.
“Don’t get the idea that I do this every week, but any attack on you two is an attack on me.”
Danielle grinned.
“Would you like to try your hand at using your influence on mum for me?”
Peter suspicions were aroused.
“What influence?”
“Schools out for the summer and I want my nose pierced, but mum is against it.”
Peter grinned, remembering the young girl in Jo’s shop.
“No chance. In any
case didn’t I read in the paper that your school has banned all jewelry except one pair of small earrings?”
Danielle nodded. Peter thought for a moment.
“You could try for a compromise.”
“Compromise?”
“The school has to see the jewelry to ban it and your mum is probably worried about the long term effects of having a hole in your nose if you don’t want it in a year’s time.”
“So?”
“Try for a hole in your navel.”
Danielle’s eyes widened.
Peter continued, “You’ll have to marshal your arguments though, and don’t try the ‘everyone else’ trick, it won’t wash.”
Danielle considered this.
“How about a tattoo on my bottom?”
“Not in a million years,” said Peter laughing.
Just then Jo reappeared from the loo. She had slightly moderated her make-up and the amount of jewelry, but not by much. However, she was down to the one faithful large nose-ring and the small lip-ring. But Peter could tell from the way she was walking that she felt comfortable and at ease. Then everyone left for the golf club. As they were walking to the car Peter had to pause for a second to tie up his shoelace, when he got to the car, Jo was just finishing a short conversation with Derek.
As they drove off curiously Peter asked her if she knew Derek.
“Yes, and I don’t like him – and he knows it.”
“Why’s that?”
Jo was quite for a moment.
“When Danielle was nearly eight, Derek invited me out a few times. He’s not like you; when he takes a girl out he feels that he has a divine right to touch them up in one way or another. In the end, we were having a meal out in this French restaurant, in one of those booths where you sit side by side; he kept placing his hand on my thigh and I kept taking it off. I asked him why he was taking me out and he said that he thought it could be a good arrangement: he could give me a good time – he said I was obviously hard up – and I could give him sex. He was very matter of fact about it and said the sex would have to be at my flat, but Danielle was probably used to seeing men come and go.”
Peter was amazed, especially after Derek’s holier than thou attitude about him going out with Jo.
“What did you do?”
Peter could see Jo smiling out of the corner of his eye.
“We’d just been served the main course. I called him a cheap bastard and smashed my dinner into his face and pushed his dinner onto his lap.”
“I bet you enjoyed that.”
“I did at the time, but I had a bad period after. I got worried that if Derek thought that of me so did everyone else. He caused me to stay in hospital for a few weeks; I’ll never forgive him for that.”
They arrived at the golf club and went in. The majority of the church was there and a fair percentage of the Mothers and Toddlers group. Charmian and Marjorie arrived about four minutes later. When Charmian walked in she was expecting a quiet meal for two and was totally overcome to find the church waiting for her with a buffet laid on. A little while after the buffet started the Bishop arrived. He went straight up to Charmian and congratulated her. He then came up to Peter and Jo and congratulated them. After that he generally mingled with the congregation. When most of the food had disappeared, Peter was standing by himself eating a second helping of strawberry meringue when the Bishop converged on him and dragged him off for a ‘private word.’
The Bishop took him to the far corner where there was an empty table for two and they sat down.
The Bishop looked at Peter in an odd way.
“I’ve got something to say Peter and I want you to hear me out.”
Peter nodded, wondering what was coming.
The Bishop smiled.
“Let me start be saying that I probably don’t know all the facts and there is the possibility that I might deeply offend you. I do not intend that, but I feel I must speak.”
Peter was now completely baffled.
“Fire away.”
The Bishop put his hands together, interweaving his fingers.
“When I advised you to go after the woman you loved and not hesitate too long I thought that you were pursuing Jane, but of course if I’d read the supplement to your file properly I would have known that you’ve been there and done that.” He paused. “I want you to stand back and take a good look at Jo.”
Peter looked across the room, he saw Jo sitting on the edge of a chair talking to Carol and bouncing Justin on her knee; his heart missed a beat.
Peter said, “What’s your point.”
“My point is this. You have a fine ecclesiastical future before you, despite you’re odd pieces of misjudgment I have no doubt that you will be offered the position of Archdeacon, probably sooner than later, and in the not too distant future you would make an excellent Bishop. But I doubt that will happen if you have Jo by your side.”
Peter opened his mouth to speak, but the Bishop held up his hand.
“Please let me finish Peter, I am finding this as hard as you.”
He paused, regrouping his thoughts.
“I know it’s not fair and doesn’t follow the Christian ethic of loving all people, but the hard reality is that a Bishop needs someone by his side that is, shall we say, acceptable. In years to come Jo may well change her appearance, but she can never get rid of the tattoos. She may be accepted here, but I doubt that she would be so accepted in many churches, mores the pity. The point is Peter, if you marry Jo then your ecclesiastical career stops here and now in Felburgh. You will never move beyond Parish Priest and that would be a great loss to the church as a whole.”
The Bishop finished and sat back in his chair looking exceptionally disconsolate. Peter stared at him.
“What you are saying is that I should consider making a personal sacrifice for the good of the church.”
The bishop nodded unhappily.
“If I did, it would be to move into a church I could no longer love and one that had forced me to deny myself the one person who has brought light back into my life.”
The Bishop leant forward and grabbed Peter’s hands.
“Then I am glad for you and I wish you every blessing.”
The Bishop visibly relaxed, he shook his head.
“It must be something in this East Coast air. Jane is going out with a scrap merchant and you are engaged to…”
But he stopped before he finished the sentence; he had caused Peter enough hurt for one day. Peter smiled.
“That scrap merchant has a large stake in an international classic car spares company; he’s not quite what he seems, and neither is Jo.”
The Bishop nodded.
“Sorry Peter. Sometimes the duties of a Bishop are fairly unpalatable.” He paused and watched the church intermingling and talking. “Hypothetically speaking, if you were offered an Archdeacon’s post and could still live here in Felburgh, would you consider it?”
Peter shook his head.
“Not just yet. My work in the church here is only just beginning.”
The Bishop gave a lopsided grin.
“So you wouldn’t rule it out in the future?”
“Who knows what the Lord has in store for us?” Peter replied. “But at the moment I am sure I should be here and stay here as priest.”
The Bishop shook his head.
“I was afraid that you would say that. Jane said exactly the same thing; again it must be something in the air.”
The Bishop left Peter to have a final mingle before departing. What Peter had not told the Bishop is that what the Bishop had vocalized had crossed Peter’s mind already. It had crossed his mind before Jo threw a wobbly on his doorstep and he decided then and there that Jo was worth more to him that any status in the church. He also was getting the feeling that he would never leave Felburgh and had half-decided that when he felt the church here needed someone else, he would retire and write books. It had not occurred to him that there were any other options, but then
God was always showing him that His ways were different and often unimaginable.
After the buffet was over Peter took Jo back to his house. He did not repeat the Bishop’s conversation to her as he had decided that it would serve no purpose. Once they were settled in Peter’s sitting room and were snuggling together on the settee, Jo said out of the blue, “Peter do you want me to give up work? It’s going to be difficult for you having me working as a masseur; it’s not what’s expected of a vicar’s wife.”
Peter was taken aback. “Who told you that?”
“No-one; I figured it out for myself.”
Peter gently squeezed her shoulders; “I don’t care what is expected. I love you as you are and if you want to conduct massages in the middle of the street that’s OK by me.”
Jo was quiet for a minute.
“Janice has decided not to move away just yet; she’s going out with a lovely boy, he was playing the organ with Dan today, and she wants to wait until he has finished college and they can move away together.”
She looked into Peter’s eyes.
“I’ve worked all my life and I’d like to become a kept woman. I’m thinking of offering Janice a job four days a week, that’s all she’s looking for as she already has a small trainee job with the local football team as well. That would mean I’d only work one or two days a week, just enough to keep my hand in.”
“You said that Janice didn’t do body piercing.”
“Daphne’s happy to do that, and I think in time Janice will start to learn. She’s already shown some interest.”
Peter looked into her eyes.
“Is this really what you want? Forget me, forget the church, and forget everybody else. Is it what you want?”
Jo nodded.
“Yes. It would also allow me a little more time with Danielle. If she is going off to university in four years I want to make the most of the time I have left with her living here.”
Peter gave her another squeeze, “then go ahead and do it.”
Just then Louise and Danielle burst in, Danielle waved her arms.
“You said you wanted us to come round?”