Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Later that evening, as Clara perfected the placement of her clerical collar, clipping it into place as she got dressed for the evening’s Compline, she couldn’t get her date with Tom out of her head.
She wondered if he would be at chapel and hoped she hadn’t scared him away with all her questions.
The date had ended politely enough but there was something about the way he seemed uncomfortable when she pressed him for answers about his past. It concerned her and she promised herself that if she was to have another date with him she wouldn’t push him again.
It was clear that if he wanted to tell her about his past, he would.
She decided that not everyone nervously overshared their life story, like she sometimes could.
* * *
Only Tom knew why he didn’t want to talk about it and, after the date that he enjoyed so much, he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he adored Clara’s company.
How he wished he could confide in her. She was a woman of the church and preached forgiveness after all, but he didn’t dare mess this up.
It was far too early, and he feared that if she knew the truth, she might want nothing more to do with him.
Tom was torn. He knew he should be straight with Clara from the very beginning but if he could only get her to fall in love with him first, then there might be more of a chance that she wouldn’t run.
The church filled for Compline, and Tom took his place on a pew. Even though he had only just said goodbye to Clara that afternoon, he was determined not to miss the chance of seeing her again.
His eyes were fixed on her as she stood amid the candlelight and checked over the papers in front of her.
It was the first time he had ever been so attracted to someone doing mundane things.
It wasn’t even her unassuming beauty under the ambient lighting, but more the allure of her magnetic aura that made him drawn to everything about her.
The collection of freckles that ran in an almost perfect line across her snub nose just added to her appeal.
It felt so different to when he met his former wife, Diana, at a music festival.
That felt like a lifetime ago when he was a completely different person.
It was before he became the broken version of himself.
Tom paid his full attention as Clara commenced the service. The irony wasn’t lost on him as she started with her usual preparation for worship by asking the congregation to confess their sins and receive forgiveness in the Absolution.
‘Let us humbly confess our sins to Almighty God,’ she said gently.
Whilst there were many members in the congregation confessing their sins, nobody was more eager to do this than Tom.
He started to see this as a sign that this could be the green light and an indication from God that he could confide in Clara when the time was right and that she would understand.
It was at this moment he decided to ask Clara for their next date.
He desperately wanted to make plans at the café earlier, but got flummoxed with all the questioning.
With Tom watching Clara and listening to her melodious voice, he decided he was going to give this potential relationship his best shot.
An idea sprang to mind and he knew the perfect place for their second date, somewhere they could be away from eavesdroppers and he could be a little more open with her.
He felt that telling her snippets about his life might even help relieve him of the guilt he carried around every day.
Tom was so excited at the thought that when he sung the first canticle of ‘Magnificat’ his voice filled the air, carrying the music across the chapel.
He was overcome with hope and joy again, just like the moment when Clara agreed to go on their first date.
There was something about being in the chapel and listening to Clara’s dulcet tones that gave him courage.
Momentarily he found peace. The only problem was that when he left, those negative feelings that he often suffered from returned.
As Clara ended Compline by asking for God’s blessing for the week ahead, Tom felt ready to approach her.
The worshippers congregated near the chapel doors, catching up with each other, and Tom searched for Clara’s physique among them.
When people jostled to catch Clara before she left, he was reminded of how popular she was.
He pushed a wave of self-doubt away as he appreciated how much everyone loved her and how, conversely, he had been shunned by many who had known him.
He told the voice in his head to be quiet.
He was no longer that person. These new people liked him.
Brian approached Tom, proving this theory, and asked how he was before proceeding to tell him about his daughter’s forthcoming visit.
When Brian left to speak to others in the congregation, he spotted Professor Binton, who nodded politely at him.
Tom didn’t know him well, but decided he should become more acquainted with people if he was to be sticking around, so he approached him to ask what he thought of the England cricket match.
‘I’m more of a Wimbledon fan, myself,’ said Professor Binton.
So much for becoming better acquainted with him, he thought! Even though Tom was affable to all he met, he had never been an expert at small talk.
Tom tried to think of something to say but nothing came to mind.
He stood and smiled, nodding his head as he tried to remember who was due to play at Wimbledon this year.
Professor Binton soon bid him goodbye, leaving Tom feeling like a spare part as he hung around aimlessly waiting for Clara to finish talking to one of the students.
He wondered how he could interrupt the conversation as he was concerned that his loitering was becoming suspicious.
During moments like this he felt it would be easier to get close to one of the Rolling Stones at a sold-out concert than the immensely popular Clara at one of her services.
Fortunately, Janet rushed over to Clara with some homemade marmalade and the student wandered off. This gave Tom the ideal opportunity to get to Clara before anyone else beat him to it.
‘Hi, great service . . . as always.’ Tom cursed himself. He could have thought of something more original than that. Everyone said that to her!
‘Thanks. I’m glad you came, Tom . . . I wasn’t sure if . . .’ Clara stopped. She still felt a little guilty for pushing Tom like some kind of hardened journalist looking for a scoop.
‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ said Tom, with his irresistible smile.
Clara wasn’t sure if it was her imagination but his slightly tanned skin seemed to stand out more under the glow of the church lighting.
She also noticed how toned his biceps looked in his short sleeves.
Each time she looked at him she noticed yet another attractive physical attribute.
She couldn’t help but brush her hand against Tom’s arm as he smiled.
She wouldn’t dare touch any of the congregation without their permission but, somehow, Tom made her want to push the boundaries.
Moreover, he was different to any of the regular churchgoers.
He wasn’t any ordinary member of the congregation.
Tom and Clara had been on a wonderful date.
They practically had history together since one date was the longest relationship she’d had in the last millennium.
‘Well, I’m glad you wouldn’t miss it. Thanks again for earlier. I really enjoyed myself . . .’
She wanted to say more. Clara didn’t usually beat around the bush and desperately wanted to ask him for another date but, given her track record and his hesitation to talk about things, she thought it better to pull back.
She didn’t want to make a fool of herself no matter how much she would love a repeat afternoon with him.
‘You’re welcome. That’s why I was wondering . . . Umm, if you don’t think I’m too much of a bore and it’s a bit soon, how would you like to go out again sometime? Maybe next week?’
Clara let out a loud laugh and Tom’s tummy did a somersault. He instantly regretted asking. He quickly convinced himself that she did think he was a bore and that she hated every minute with him.
‘You are far from a bore, my dear Tom. In fact, I was hoping you’d ask me.’
‘Really? You were? That’s wonderful, terrific. I mean . . . Great.’
Tom couldn’t believe his luck. Two dates with this amazing woman! He could almost recreate Tom Cruise’s jump over Oprah Winfrey’s couch right now he was so ecstatic. He decided that it wouldn’t be right though to hop over the pews. He tried to calm his excitement down and steadied himself.
‘Right, then. So . . . Um, how do you fancy a picnic out at Port Meadow? I’ll make the sandwiches. You don’t need to do a thing.’
‘A man who can organise a picnic. Goodness, don’t tell me you can cook too?’
‘Cook? Wait till you’ve tried my homemade scotch eggs.’
‘Okay, you had me at homemade.’ Clara pretended to faint like some kind of love-struck Jane Austen character, which filled Tom with happiness.
‘I very much look forward to it, Tom.’
‘So do I.’
They had both been so engrossed in their conversation that neither of them had noticed they were the last two to leave chapel.
When they finally made their way outside, Clara and Tom were still smiling at each other as they walked in tandem.
They said their goodbyes and while Tom turned to walk home, Clara unchained her bicycle from the stand as the bell-ringing from Merton College sounded in the distance.
As she rode home on her ancient blue bicycle, with its trusty wicker basket on the front, pedalling her legs and then swinging them out in the air in joy, Clara felt like a love-struck teenager.
Tom was equally pleased with himself, despite being nervous about opening up the wounds of his past. He reassured himself that it would be okay and was confident that the picnic was the perfect spot for them to both learn more about each other.
How much more Clara would learn about Tom was at his discretion, but, before he could even begin to wear his heart on his sleeve, he needed to have a talk with someone else. Someone who knew many of his secrets.