Fairytale of Headley Cross

by Clare Revell

  All the children nodded.

  “Do we have to speak?” one of them asked.

  Maggie shook her head. “No, Peter, not if you don’t want to. I’d like some of you to help me tell the story, but the rest of you can just stand there. Just like you’ll do in the school nativity plays.”

  Five minutes later, all the parts were organized and Maggie gave a costume list to each child. Either a white T-shirt or a shirt, tights, or trousers and a tea towel or tinsel for their hair.

  “What about the donkey?” Peter asked. “We have to have a donkey for Mary to ride on.”

  Carson nodded. “We do, and we’ll find one.”

  “A real one?”

  “No, we can’t have a real donkey in the chapel, but maybe we get a grown up to act the part of the donkey.”

  Maggie winked at the children. “Maybe we ask Pastor Carson to be the donkey.”

  The children laughed and clapped. “Yes…”

  Carson baulked at the idea. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Grey isn’t my color.”

  Maggie grinned. “You don’t have to wear grey. You could be a rainbow donkey.”

  He laughed with them. “We’ll see.”

  The parents began to arrive and the children left, clutching their coloring-in sheets and full of enthusiasm for the nativity. Carson helped Maggie tidy up and stack the chairs and tables to the side of the room. Once they were alone, he smiled at her. “I’m still not sure I’d make a good donkey.”

  She did that head tilt thing again and fluttered her lashes. “Oh, I don’t know. With a little makeup or a mask and a flannel outfit, you’d make a perfect donkey. You did offer to help.”

  He shook his head. “Remind me to watch what I say in future. But it was lovely to see how keen all the children are about the idea.”

  Maggie brushed her hands on her dress as she straightened. “Yes, it was.”

  “Are you busy for lunch?” The question at the back of his mind was suddenly out without any conscious effort on his part.

  It seemed to take her by surprise as her eyes widened. But she barely hesitated before answering. “No, I’m not. I was planning on reheating yesterday’s leftovers.”

  “That doesn’t sound very appetizing. Would you like to join me? We could go to the carvery. I’ve been meaning to try it and don’t want to go on my own.”

  Her smile lit her eyes. “I’d love to. I’ve always wanted to go and never been.”

  “Then we’ll go now. I’ll follow you on my bike.”

  “Bike?”

  He grinned. “I don’t have a car. I have a motorbike. Just need to pop home and get it.”

  “Ah. So that’s what the big tarpaulin was hiding in your garden. It was a little difficult to miss.” She grinned. “How about I drive, as my car is here, and I can drop you back at the manse afterwards?”

  ****

  Maggie sat opposite Carson, a glass of apple juice in her hand. He was unassuming, friendly, kind, and had the most charming disposition she’d ever come across. She had missed the church meeting when he gave his testimony, as she had a school function to go to the same evening. And the night they’d voted him in, she’d had to go to a parent-teacher meeting.

  What had brought him to the point where he knew he needed Christ in his life? She ought to see if his testimony was on the website somewhere. Or she could just ask him. No doubt, he was brought up in a Christian family and becoming a pastor was natural for him.

  The meal was excellent, and Carson kept her in fits of giggles with his incredible sense of humor.

  As they waited for pudding, she put down her glass. “Why did you become a pastor? I hate to ask, but I have to admit I didn’t get to the church members meeting where you gave your testimony.”

  He looked at her in mock shock. “I might just have to excommunicate you.”

  She poked her tongue out at him. “I’d like to see you try.”

  He roared with laughter. “Hey, that’s my line. Give it back.”

  A shadow fell across the table, and Maggie looked up. The breath caught in her throat and the laughter died on her lips. “Wesley…”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m having dinner. This is Pastor Carson Armitage.”

  His lips curved into a snarl and his eyes burned into her. “So that’s why you dumped me. How long have you been seeing him?”

  “I’m not seeing him. And you know why I finished things—” Her sentence ended in a gasp of fright as Wesley’s face loomed into hers and his fingers closed around her wrist.

  “It’s not too late,” he said. “I’ll take you back. You need me.”

  “I don’t think so. Let go of me.”

  His grip tightened painfully.

  Carson got to his feet. “The lady asked you to let go.”

  “You keep out of it.” Wesley glared at him.

  “Wesley…you’re hurting me. People are watching.”

  Carson was at her side. “I think you should leave the lady alone.”

  Wesley lashed out with his fist. There was a sickening thud as his right hook connected hard and fast with Carson’s jaw.

  Carson staggered backwards, but didn’t turn away. He shook himself and looked firm at Wesley. “I said leave the lady alone.”

  Wesley let go of Maggie and swung hard and fast, hitting Carson’s other cheek.

  Maggie cried out. “Wesley, stop…”

  Her cries went unnoticed as Wesley knocked Carson to the ground and kicked him until two other diners and one of the waiters pulled him away.

  Maggie dropped to Carson’s side. “Carson…”

  He groaned, trying to sit up. “I’m OK.”

  She grabbed a napkin from the table and dabbed it gently against his face. “No, you’re not. You’re bleeding.”

  He took the cloth from her. “Would you take me home, please?”

  The manager came running over. “I am so sorry, sir. I’ve called the police. If you’ll come to my office, you can wait there.”

  Carson struggled to his feet. He walked slowly behind the manager until they reached the door. “Can you send the police to my place? It would be easier that way.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Carson nodded, his hand pressed tightly to his chest. “Carson Armitage. 32 Victoria Drive.” He looked at Maggie. “Good job you drove. Don’t think I could manage the bike.”

  She nodded. “And I definitely can’t.”

  They walked to the car, and she held the door open while he slid into the passenger seat. “I really think you should go to the hospital or wait here for the police.”

  “I just want to go home.”

  “OK, but I’m not leaving until I know for sure you’re going to be all right. I’m really sorry.”

  “This wasn’t your fault. It’s OK.”

  “It’s not OK. He had no right to hit you. It’s all my fault.”

  “You did nothing wrong. I asked you to lunch, remember?”

  “It wasn’t even a date.” But that didn’t stop her from feeling horrible as she started the car. “He was accusing me of cheating on him, and yet he was doing the same thing for months. When I realized he had been cheating on me, it was over between us.”

  *****

  Carson leaned back in the chair and held the pack of frozen peas to his face as he gave his statement to two uniformed police officers. He was eternally grateful neither attended his church. And that they didn’t ask about his past. Though he was mildly surprised they didn’t know about it, or if they did, bring it into the conversation somehow. Pilot sat by his chair, not having left Carson’s side since he got home.

  He signed the form they gave him and then sat still as they spoke to Maggie. She was still blaming herself.

  Finally, the officers stood to leave. “Are you sure you don’t want to press charges?”

  He nodded. “I’m sure.”

  “Well, if you change your mind let us know.” The officer handed him a card.
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  Maggie rose to her feet. “I’ll see you out.”

  Carson watched them go and closed his eyes. Lord, don’t let me refusing to press charges be a mistake. But I’ve seen enough of courtrooms to last me a lifetime. And interview rooms and police officers come to that. And with my record…why would they believe me over someone else? He rubbed his jaw and adjusted the pack of peas.

  Maggie came back into the room. “You know, you can take turning the other cheek too far.”

  He grinned lopsidedly at her. “I did, remember?”

  She picked up the cloth. “Let me.” She gently dabbed at the cuts on his face.

  He winced and caught his breath.

  “I’m sorry.” Her face creased in concern. “You’re going to look a right sight at the toddler group tomorrow morning. Perhaps you’d better give it a miss. You don’t want to scare them.”

  “Don’t forget the senior’s lunch on Wednesday, prayer meeting on Thursday and two services on Sunday. Oh, and I’m preaching tonight.” Just the thought of all that left him exhausted, but he had responsibilities to uphold, no matter how bad he felt.

  “No, you’re not.”

  He gave her a look that in the past had terrified people and gotten him his own way. “Yes, I am. And you’ll never guess what the sermon title is.”

  “No idea.”

  “Turning the other cheek.”

  She pointed a finger at him. “That is not remotely funny and you are not doing it. Surely there is someone else who can preach at short notice.”

  The doorbell rang. Pilot jumped to his feet and barked. Carson started to get up.

  Maggie pushed him back down. “Sit. I’ll get it.”

  Pilot immediately sat at his heels and Carson snorted. “She meant me not you.”

  “I meant both of you.” Maggie rolled her eyes and left the room.

  Voices came from the hall and Carson sighed. The one person he really didn’t want to see. Nate Holmes, church elder—and detective sergeant—who no doubt would ask the questions the other cops hadn’t. He glanced warily at the door as they came back in. “Afternoon, Nate.”

  “I just heard. Are you OK?” Nate didn’t bother with the pleasantries. He was obviously in work mode.

  “I’m fine. Who told you?”

  “Police grapevine. The custody sergeant is a friend of mine and when he booked a bloke for assaulting my pastor, I got a phone call.” Nate sat opposite him.

  Carson shrugged, trying to act blasé. “It’s not so bad. You should see the other guy.”

  Maggie glared at him. “You didn’t touch him.”

  “So I heard,” Nate said dryly.

  Maggie continued unabated. “He just stood there and took it, and now he intends to preach tonight.”

  “I don’t think so.” Nate held out a hand. “Give me your sermon notes and I’ll do it.”

  Carson shook his head, ignoring the wave of dizziness that shot through him as a result. “Like I told Maggie, I’m fine to preach. I can start a new trend and preach sitting down.”

  “Have you seen yourself?” Nate asked.

  “No.” He tried to stand and sat back down, his legs refusing to support him. His head spun. He rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the desire to close his eyes for a moment. Any show of weakness and they’d pack him off to bed or something.

  “For crying out loud.” Maggie raised her hands in a gesture of despair. “Is there a shaving mirror in the bathroom?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll go get it.”

  Once Maggie was out of the room, Nate turned to Carson. “I hate to ask, but as you’re not pressing charges…”

  “It was Maggie’s ex-boyfriend. He took exception to us having lunch. That’s all. It’s not gang related, I promise.”

  “OK. You understand I had to ask.”

  “As a cop or an elder?” Carson asked bluntly.

  “Both. And as a friend,” Nate said, his tone softening.

  Maggie came back with the mirror and held it in front of his face. “Now look at yourself and tell me honestly you can stand—or sit—in that pulpit tonight and preach.”

  Carson started at the battered reflection and reluctantly handed Nate the sermon notes. “OK, you win. I’ll stay in tonight. What will you tell the congregation?”

  “That you’ve been involved in an accident and will be out of circulation for a few days. But you’re not seriously hurt and will be fine after a few days’ rest.” He slid the notes into his jacket pocket. “I’ll give you a call in a couple of days. Think about pressing charges. I’ll see myself out.”

  Carson let out a deep breath as Nate left. He glanced at Maggie. “Can you show me how to stream the evening service? I welcome the online listeners each week, but have no idea how to do it.”

  “Sure.”

  “Actually, would you stay and listen with me? If you’re not too busy that is?”

  Maggie nodded. “I’ll make some tea first, if that’s all right with you. And afterwards I’ll take Pilot for a walk before I leave.”

  “Thank you. Could you find me some paracetamol? There should be some in the bathroom cabinet.”

  “Sure. I need to put the mirror away, anyway.”

  Once Maggie was out of the room, Carson leaned back and closed his eyes. What had he gotten himself into and how was he going to get out of it? No one would believe he didn’t start the fight. Not with his history. The same reason he was single and likely to stay that way. As soon as any woman found out who he really was, they ran—ran as far away as they possibly could.

  4

  Maggie walked across the park with Gypsy on his leash. He’d had a good run in the early morning. She knew some of the church members, and her parents, would have a fit if they knew she walked across the park in the dark, but what was she meant to do with the dog? She knew most of the other dog walkers by sight, anyway. Though this morning she was earlier than usual and there was no one about. Besides, the whole point of having the dog was so she’d be safe. That was the only reason she left the house in the dark at all.

  Gypsy’s feet clipped on the tarmac as they left the park and walked along the pavement. Her breath hung in the freezing air, a light frost glistening on the grass verges. No doubt the pavements were icy as well, but she couldn’t make that out in the orange sodium street lighting.

  Her mind reviewed the previous day. Wesley had been waiting for her when she got back to her home. She’d told him that she wasn’t going to be intimidated by him or by anyone else. It was over between them, and if she wanted to see other men, she would. He hadn’t taken it too well, but she told him if he laid a finger on her again, she would press charges against him. After that, he’d left.

  Thinking about the charges, brought her mind back to the topic it had barely left, that of Carson. Why hadn’t he pursued matters with the police? He’d taken a beating for her. Why? It wasn’t as if they were dating or doing anything more than having a friendly lunch after church. Although she had to admit if he did ask her out, which he wouldn’t, she’d say yes.

  Why? That’s what she didn’t understand. He was a pastor. There was no way she was pastor’s wife material. And she knew he would need someone to support him in his ministry. And that someone wasn’t her and could never be her.

  I don’t doubt my faith, Lord, but it’s nowhere near as strong as his. He’ll be such a good man, never doing anything wrong, not like me. I fail You on a daily basis, by not praying or forgetting to do my Bible reading, or getting angry when I’m driving or at work or anytime something doesn’t go according to my plan. I know I was never in love with Wesley. I’m not sure I ever really liked him, just wanted what I could get from him. How shallow does that make me?

  The alarm on her phone beeped as she reached her front door. She looked down at Gypsy. “It’s time for me to go to work. You guard the house while I’m gone.” He barked at her. “Glad to hear it. And no chewing my slippers, you hear?”

  ****

>   Carson looked in the mirror and decided that Maggie was right; the toddler group would be a bad move. His jaw was far too painful to shave, so he’d give that a miss. Maybe he just grew the beard back. The phone had rung constantly since he got up that morning, after Nate mentioned his ‘accident’ in church the previous evening. He was tempted to record a new answerphone message and let that pick up calls for the rest of the day. Something along the lines of…

  Before he thought any further, the phone rang again and he grabbed it. “Hello.”

  “Carson, its Jack. Is everything OK?” Jack Chambers sounded unusually concerned. From what little Carson knew of his co-pastor, he seemed pretty unflappable, except where his wife and family were concerned.

  Carson gingerly sat on the couch. “Everything’s fine. Why?”

  “I was listening online last night. Well, my morning, your last night.”

  “Oh.” He exhaled heavily.

  “Nate said you’d been in an accident. What happened?”

  There was no point hiding what happened from Jack. Nate would only tell him the truth when asked anyway. “I was having lunch at the carvery with Maggie Turner to talk about the nativity. Her ex-boyfriend took a dislike to this and hit me. Several times. And before you ask, no, I didn’t hit him back. Those days are long gone.”

  “Are you pressing charges?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Jack’s sharp intake of breath matched the drumming of his fingers on the edge of the phone. “May I ask why? Are you sure it wasn’t—”

  “No, Jack, it wasn’t related to my past. It was Maggie’s ex, and even if it wasn’t, I can handle it. There are at least ten witnesses to the fact that he just walked in and started the fight unprovoked. He grabbed hold of Maggie, I stood and told him to leave her alone, and he hit me. I just want to forget it. And between you and me, I don’t want to see any more courtrooms.”

  Pilot pushed his head onto Carson’s knee, and he petted him absently.

  “Is something going on between you and Maggie Turner?”

  “No. We were talking about YPSB and the nativity. Did you know she runs that on her own? YPSB that is, not the nativity. I’m giving her a hand with that.”