Blessed Assurance – another novel extract
Photo courtesy of Tim Green Flickr
Introducing Anne…
“Anne
Your average vicar. Black leather shoes, grey trousers (with cycle clips) and an old jacket over the clerical shirt and collar. Typical entry into the room too, arm full of books, cycle helmet dangling from one finger, and an advance warning of his presence in the shape of a hummed hymn tune. If a hymn tune can be said to have a shape. Actually, this one was a bit misshapen. There was still a resemblance to the original, a tune called ‘Assurance’, but the resemblance was not obvious.
‘Assurance’. Pete’s favourite tune. There were those who felt that ‘Diffidence ‘ might be more appropriate but no such tune existed, even in Anglican circles. To be fair, Pete was hardly diffident in preaching the gospel, just in his dealings with other people. For some vicars, the distance created by robes and pulpits is a key advantage of the job. One of the perks, if you like. A reminder that here is a man set apart. A man who can be forgiven a little social ill ease.
Not that they’re all like that. Take Tom for instance. Pete’s oldest friend. Another vicar. I know, it’s London bus syndrome. Nothing in sight and then you can’t move for them. Story of my life. But Tom. Tom is something else. Confident, relaxed. Attractive. Yes, I know, I’m married to Pete so I clearly thought he was attractive once. Still do, to be fair. But Tom draws the eye. Tall, well proportioned, with a twinkle in his eye, dark hair turning to grey. And presence. So it’s charisma more than attractiveness I suppose. Charisma in a secular sense I mean, though he did flirt with the charismatic church for a while. Part of his ‘journey of faith’ as he calls it. That’s one thing he and Pete have in common. A love of cliché. A love of me too, once. As I said, like London buses.
So why did I choose the diffident one, the one who struggles with personal relationships, likes to hide behind the priestly robes? Not sure I could have had the easy going charismatic one in the end, not once Liza came on the scene, but I did choose Pete. I chose social awkwardness. I chose someone who thought he’d found the truth over someone who wanted to spend his life looking for it. A strange mixture of diffidence and certainty. But I suppose that really I just found Pete’s foibles endearing – and endearing was more attractive than charming.
And he’s still endearing, though he drives me round the bend too. Now, as he comes into his study, he looks a little surprised to see me – as if I’m some alien life form, an intruder on his inner sanctum. Well, I am really. This is male territory, clerical territory at least – and Pete hasn’t quite come to terms with women priests yet, not that he has strong theological objections. He just can’t quite see women as priests. Not the way it was done in his father’s time.”
