Fairytale of Headley Cross

by Clare Revell

  7

  Maggie stood, stunned, as Carson left the chapel by the side door, not even going back for his coat or bag. “I should go after him.”

  Nate shook his head. “Leave him for now. Give him chance to calm down.”

  “What happened?”

  “There was a slight disagreement in the vestry.” Nate looked at his watch. “I’ve got five minutes to find someone to preach, unless I just read his notes again like I did last week.”

  “Or do something different. Find a couple of volunteers and do a testimony service instead.”

  “I don’t suppose you would…?”

  She held up a hand. “YPS, sorry. It’s our first nativity practice today.”

  “Of course. It’s OK. I’ll find someone.”

  Maggie headed into the chapel and found a seat on the end of a row. The organ played quietly, and she struggled to center her thoughts on her reason for being there. All she could think of was Carson.

  Lord, I don’t know what kind of trouble he’s in, but it must be bad or really worrying him for him to have just left like that. I don’t understand what he said about the elders not trusting him. Surely they have to for him to have been offered the pastorate here. Be with him, protect him, comfort him, and restore him to us. We need him. I need him.

  ****

  As soon as YPS was over and the children collected, Maggie slid into the pulpit and collected Carson’s bag and coat. She had no idea where he’d have gone, but assumed he went home. That would be the best place to start. Of course, if he’d ridden off on his bike, he could be anywhere.

  She rang the manse doorbell and waited for an answer. She was on the point of leaving, when the door opened.

  “Oh, it’s you.” Carson left the door open and headed inside.

  Maggie took that as an invitation and followed him. “I brought your things from church.”

  “Thank you. Just put them anywhere.” His voice echoed from the kitchen.

  She hung his coat on the bannisters and put the bag on the floor. “Something smells good. How’s it going?”

  Carson shrugged, a mug of coffee in his hand. “Fine, I guess.”

  “OK.” Well, she wasn’t going to stay where she wasn’t wanted and there was a definite leave me alone vibe emanating from him. “I needed to make sure you were all right. Are you going to be in church tonight?”

  “No.” He picked up an envelope from the counter and held it out to her. “Can you give this to Nate for me, please?”

  “What is it?”

  “My resignation. I put it in writing. I did tell him earlier that I quit.”

  Maggie refused to take it, sliding her hands into her coat pockets. “Why? Because an elder took a dislike to something you said?”

  “Just take it.”

  “No. Deliver it yourself.” She turned her back on him and studied the lit Christmas tree through the hatch. “The kids asked after you this morning. They are so excited about this nativity. I think they’re inviting just about everyone they know. The church should be packed on Christmas Eve.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Carson, you can’t quit.”

  “I have no choice.”

  She resisted the urge to stamp her foot. “There is always a choice.”

  He moved and stood in front of her. “Not this time. I shouldn’t be here.”

  “God put you here, Carson.”

  “Did He? Maybe my arrogance did. I assumed I was called to this ministry, but maybe I wasn’t. My sister was—” He broke off.

  “Your sister was what?”

  “Right. She said leopards can’t change their spots. Just like I can’t change my record or my past. You should leave before I paint you with the same brush. Kissing you, going out with you was a mistake. I should never have done it. I want you to leave now and never come back.”

  Shock resonated through her. He had a bad morning so he dumped her? “OK.” She turned and left.

  Back at her place, she clipped on Gypsy’s lead and headed out for a walk. Why did she feel like this? Like her heart was breaking. Why did him telling her to go away hurt so much? She’d let him into her heart, completely and utterly. He’d shown her what love was—what it was like to be treated considerately and tenderly by a man. They’d gotten close, yes, but at the end of the day, he was a pastor, not a man. She was out of his league.

  He was her own Christmas miracle, her fairytale of Headley Cross. And now it was over.

  Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. She wasn’t going home to eat just yet and besides, she’d eaten more in the last week than she had in a long time. Skipping a meal wouldn’t kill her. The phone in her bag rang. Maybe it was Carson. She pulled it out and her heart sank as she read the screen. “Hello, Jan.”

  “Maggie, I’m not interrupting dinner, am I?”

  “No, I’m walking Gypsy.”

  “Oh, I thought you’d be busy. But anyway, did you hear about Pastor Carson?”

  “What about him?”

  “Of course, you were in YPS. Well, he walked out before the service even began. Nate had to fill in for him again.”

  Maggie looked down at her feet for a moment, and bent to pick up a stick. She hurled it as far as she could. Gypsy bounded after it. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”

  “According to Frank, he wasn’t in an accident at all last week. He was in a fight. Frank says he’s not fit to be pastor after all and wants him removed. I really hope you haven’t fallen for him. I know you’ve been seeing him.”

  Maggie took the stick from Gypsy and threw it again. She stifled her instant response and kept her tone level. “How did you know that?”

  “An elder’s wife has her sources. So it’s true? You are dating him?”

  “Can I call you back later?”

  “Sure.”

  Maggie hung up and turned off her phone. Gypsy brought the stick back and she dropped to her knees to stroke him. “This is all my fault. I have to put it right. I just wish I knew how.”

  ****

  Carson sat in the lounge. Tree lights twinkled in the darkness, and the gas fire blazed in the hearth. Pilot’s head lay in his lap and he absently stroked the dog’s ears. Then he looked at him. “You’re on the sofa. You know that’s not allowed.”

  Pilot’s mournful eyes stared at him, the dog’s body sprawled over the couch beside him. His tail lazily thumped against the arm. He yawned slowly.

  “That’s called taking advantage of someone when they’re down, you know that.” Carson sighed heavily, and moved his hand over Pilot’s head. “Thing is, I don’t want to leave Headley Cross. I like it here. I like the ministry and the people and I feel at home here. But if the elders don’t trust me, what else can I do?”

  The phone rang, and he let the answerphone pick up.

  “Carson, it’s Maggie. I just wanted to check in and make sure you were OK. Give me a call.”

  He closed his eyes. “Oh, Maggie…I can’t drag you down with me, no matter how much it hurts to let you go.”

  The phone rang again.

  “Carson, it’s Nate. Are you there? OK, ummm, Frank Diamond has called an emergency church meeting for Tuesday. A vote of no confidence. I’m sorry. You need to be there for the first twenty minutes or so. Are you sure you’re not there? OK, well, give me a ring as soon as you can. I’ll try and pop over tomorrow.”

  Carson’s eyes burned and he swallowed hard. They were going to sack him. They’d rather have no pastor over Christmas, than one with a prison record. His gaze fell on the Bible on the coffee table. He picked it up and hefted it in his left hand.

  Then he hurled it across the room and into the mirror as hard as he could. The mirror shattered.

  “Why?” he yelled. “Is this some sick joke? Some Divine sense of humor that I don’t get? I graduate Bible College and get ordained, only to fail? Am I not good enough for You? Even now? Am I not worthy of Your love and forgiveness? Why is Your grace extended to everyone bar me?” />
  Pilot sat up, looking at him. He nudged him.

  Carson stood. “Let’s go for a walk. Preferably a long walk off a very short pier.”

  ****

  Maggie didn’t see Carson in church that evening. But when Nate announced the emergency church members meeting for Tuesday, she wasn’t surprised. Her heart ached for the man she’d come to love over the past ten days. Why had the elders suddenly turned on him like this? They knew who he was before recommending him to the church in the first place. And Pastor Jack must trust Carson and feel he could work with him or he’d never have gotten as far as the elders, never mind a church vote.

  Once the service was over, Maggie headed for the door where Nate stood, shaking hands. “You spoke to Carson, then? He asked me to give you the letter, but I refused. Told him it should come from him, not via a third person.”

  Nate frowned. “What letter?”

  “His resignation.”

  “What?” Nate pulled her to one side, letting people pass them. “When was this?”

  “Lunchtime. I called into the manse on my way home to make sure he was all right. He was pretty upset, didn’t say much. When you announced the meeting, I assumed—”

  “I had to leave a message on his answerphone. He wasn’t picking up.”

  “He hasn’t been all afternoon. I might go over again on my way home. Make sure he’s not done anything stupid.” She paused. “You’re a cop, right?”

  Nate’s nod was curt. “But I can’t discuss his case or history or…”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to, so I’m not going to ask. This is about something else. If someone were receiving threatening phone calls, hypothetically speaking, what should she do?”

  Nate’s gaze darkened. “Are we really talking hypothetically, or are you asking for a friend?”

  “A friend.” Of course, everyone knew the euphemism, so it wasn’t technically lying.

  “It depends if it’s harassment or actual threats. Threats of injury and so on, should always be reported to the police. If its harassment, someone who keeps ringing, won’t take no for an answer, cold callers et cetera, then changing your phone number usually works. As does going ex-directory.”

  “OK. Thank you.”

  “So, which is it?”

  “Bit of both really. Her ex-boyfriend won’t take no for an answer, but said she’d regret it if she didn’t get back with him.”

  “Hmmm…” A thoughtful expression crossed Nate’s face. “Would this be the same ex-boyfriend who beat up a local pastor last weekend?”

  Maggie bit her lip. “I can’t…you don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  Nate held her gaze. “Change your phone number. If that doesn’t stop it, or if he calls around in person, I want to know.”

  “OK. Thank you.” Maggie headed off to find the car. She drove the short distance to the manse. The house was in darkness. Not even the Christmas lights were on. She rang the bell. Silence greeted her. He’s probably walking the dog. She wrote a note and shoved it through the letterbox. She’d try calling later.

  And no, she wasn’t doing to Carson what Wesley was doing to her. If he told her to leave him alone, again, she would. Right now she was a concerned parishioner looking out for her pastor. Or was it looking out for the man she loved? Both, she decided as she got back into the car. She just hoped he’d give her the chance to tell him.

  ****

  Carson arrived back home in time to see Maggie’s car disappear into the darkness. He let Pilot into the house and fed him. He changed quickly into his biker leathers, and wheeled the bike around the front of the house. Then he started the engine and left.

  He had no idea how he ended up in Whitechapel, a distance of some forty miles. He suddenly found himself parked outside the Rose and Crown public house. Somehow it drew him here like a magnet. At one time, this pub had been his local. He’d hung out here every night, when not on gang related business.

  He pushed open the door. The same smell hit him full on. The same tired decorations hung from the ceiling. The same people sat in the same seats. It was as if time had stood still here. Silence fell as he walked to the bar and placed his helmet on the green toweling mat.

  The barmaid, Kat, eyed him. “Carson. Long time no see.”

  “It’s been a while, yeah.” He leaned one arm on the bar. “How have you been?”

  “OK. Married now, three kids, still working here though. What can I get you?”

  He looked at the bottles. He hadn’t drunk since he went to prison. “Uh…”

  Kat laughed. “It has been a while if you don’t remember. Here.” She poured him a shot of whiskey and slid it across the bar. “On the house.”

  “Thanks.” The conversations around him resumed as he picked up the glass and sipped it. The liquor tasted strange, and he wondered how he ever used to drink it.

  A huge, bearded bloke came over and slapped him on the back. “Carson.”

  Carson stood and hugged the man. “Den, how are you? Drink?”

  “Sure.” He sat down on the next stool. “How long have you been out?”

  “Three years.” Carson downed the drink and looked at Kat. “I’ll have two pints and chasers, please. We’ll go find a table.”

  Over an hour later, the table was littered with empty glasses. Carson sat, nursing the pint glass. He’d had too many, he knew that, but it was easy to sit here, surrounded by people who accepted him. Word had gotten around the former gang members, not to mention some current ones, and it was quite a party now.

  He ran his finger over the rim of the glass. “S’true wha’ they say. You canna take the bloke outta the east end, but you can take the east end outta the bloke.”

  “If you say so, Rev.”

  He looked up. “Or is it the other way around? And where’d that nickname come from?”

  “You’re a preacher now, right? Therefore you’s Rev.” One of the men at the table saluted him with a half empty beer glass.

  Someone shoved Carson and the glass shot from his hand. Beer flew over a bloke standing to his left. “I’m sorry.” He looked up, his vision blurring. “Do I know you?”

  “I know you.” A huge hand closed over his jacket, jerking him to his feet. “You’ll know me better.” A fist came from nowhere, sending him across the table.

  ****

  Carson pushed his handcuffed hands through his hair. The white forensic jumpsuit he wore chaffed his skin. He still couldn’t believe he’d been arrested. Again. This time for assault with a deadly weapon. “What else can I tell you?”

  “When the police arrived you were kneeling over the victim’s body, his blood over your hands and clothes, with this knife in your hand.” Detective Sergeant Lyons pushed a sealed evidence bag across the table. “Is it your knife?”

  “Yes it is, but I haven’t seen it in years. I didn’t hurt anyone. I wouldn’t.”

  “But you have done in the past.” DS Lyons opened the file. “You’ve done time for violent crime—eight years for armed robbery. Then there’s assault with a deadly weapon, GBH, ABH…”

  “Self-defense,” he said quietly. “That was proved in court. I’ve changed.”

  “So I see. Bible College, and now you are an ordained minister. But what’s a pastor doing, dead drunk in a pub on a Sunday night, when he’s meant to be preaching forty miles away?”

  Carson straightened. “What? You contacted them?”

  “I spoke to a very nice girl in the church office who put me in touch with a couple of your elders, including a Detective Sergeant Holmes.”

  Carson groaned and buried his face in his hands. If the elders wanted rid of him before, they’d have even more ammunition against him now. “But I didn’t hurt him. I don’t even know who the guy is. Why would I want to stab him?”

  DS Lyons slid a photograph over to him. “Troy Andros. Rival gang leader.”

  Carson frowned. “That’s the bloke I spilled the drink over. The one who laid me out across the table. But I�
�m not in the gang anymore. I haven’t been for years.”

  “You were sitting with them.”

  “No. They sat with me.”

  The door opened and a grey haired man beckoned to DS Lyons. “Excuse me. Interview paused at 11.20.”

  Carson watched him leave the room.

  I didn’t do it, God, You know that. I wouldn’t, I couldn’t have.

  The door reopened and DS Lyons restarted the tape. “Interview restarted at 11.21. Troy Andros died of his wounds fifteen minutes ago. Carson Armitage, I’m arresting you for the murder of Troy Andros. You do not have to say anything…”

  8

  Maggie walked down the corridor into reception. What could be so urgent it necessitated dragging her out of a rehearsal? She’d just gotten all the foundation and year one pupils to sit in a circle and sing. She glanced at Nate and his partner DS Dane Philips. Now what? Had something happened to her parents or her sister? “You wanted to see me?”

  Nate inclined his head. “Sorry to trouble you at work, Miss Turner. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  Miss Turner? Alarm bells rang in her head. “Sure.” Her voice trembled for a second, before she regained some measure of control over it. “You’ll need to sign in and wear visitor passes.” She pulled two red badges from the pile.

  “What does red mean?”

  “Non CRB’d and can’t be left alone with the kids.” She smiled at the irony of that. “Not even your own kids either.”

  “I’m hoping not to run into Vicky,” Dane said with a half-smile. “She’d only want to come home.”

  “She’s in the hall with the others.” Maggie led them to the meeting room, across the corridor from the office. She sat down, her stomach turning. “What’s happened? Is it my parents or Pippa?”

  Nate shook his head, pulling out his notebook. “No. We’ll be as brief as possible. I imagine you’re busy.”

  “Yes, I have fifty kids in the hall for a nativity rehearsal.”

  “When was the last time you saw Pastor Carson?”

  Maggie looked at him startled. Carson? This was about Carson? “Why?”