Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
When Clara saw Tom at church on Sunday, she did her best to remain professional, but every now and then she noticed him giving her one of his admiring glances and she felt herself go weak at the knees.
Clara caught Janet watching him and although she smiled as if giving them her blessing, she realised that she had been far too flippant with her emotions.
She had to remain authoritative at work.
‘Women should never underestimate how powerful they are and how much they can achieve. You simply need to have faith and believe,’ Clara preached. Then she talked about always showing compassion, living a good life and not simply surviving.
It made her think. Had she simply been surviving all her life and not thriving?
As she spoke, she wondered if Lowri’s email was a calling from God.
If it was then of course she must apply for the job.
She served Him before anyone. She had spoken of Miriam earlier and she thought how she must do something to make a difference in the world.
Perhaps she could make an impact at King’s College, if she were to apply.
While she continued with the sermon she had meticulously planned, Roy sat up straight as he played the hymn ‘Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me’ on the organ.
As everyone sang along, she noticed how engrossed Tom was in the words.
When he sang about sin and cleansing from its guilt and power, Tom nodded his head as if in agreement.
Clara couldn’t help wonder what sin he felt he needed cleansing of.
Did it have something to do with that little red flag that popped up its head from time to time when she thought of his reticence to talk of the past?
At the end of the sermon, as the congregation enjoyed their usual refreshments, Tom made a beeline for Clara.
‘That movie I was telling you about the other day . . . would you like to go and see it with me tomorrow evening?’
‘I’d love to, Tom.’ They were about to quietly make the arrangements when they were interrupted by Professor Binton.
‘Reverend, I wondered if you could come in and have a chat with some of the students who are working on their finals. They could do with some support.’
‘Of course. Let’s fix something in the diary.’
‘Fabulous. Oh, and I meant to have a word with you about Sian. Do you have time to chat now?’
‘Absolutely. No time like the present.’
Tom was disappointed. It was always so difficult to get Clara on her own, which was why he had enjoyed the picnic with her so much.
It was selfish of him but he adored having time alone with her and not being incessantly interrupted by people wanting to speak to her.
Naturally, he would never say that out loud, though, and he smiled at Professor Binton as he walked away, leaving them to have their semi-private conversation.
After Clara finished speaking to Professor Binton about how unsettled Sian was feeling, Roy wanted to discuss the music for the following week and mentioned that he needed his pipe organs tuned.
‘One of the keys keeps sticking and I’m not sure if I’ve a faulty piston,’ said Roy.
‘Oh dear, I’ll be sure to get someone out immediately,’ promised Clara.
By the time they had finished discussing Roy’s concerns, there was no sign of Tom, and Clara was disappointed.
She hoped he had other arrangements and hadn’t had enough of hanging around waiting to speak to her.
It wasn’t easy having a flock of eager faces waiting for her when she finished a sermon.
When she eventually walked outside to get her bicycle, she found Tom loitering. Clara noticed how hopeful he looked as she approached him.
‘So, the movie starts at 6 p.m., if that’s okay. We can get a bite to eat afterwards, if you’d like?’
She wanted nothing more in the world than to spend time with him again. There was something about him that made him irresistible. She could never refuse him.
‘I’d love to.’
‘It’s another date then,’ said Tom.
Before she could say anything further, Brian from the congregation was running up towards her.
‘Oh, Reverend, I’m so glad you’re still here. It’s Margaret, she’s been trying to call you. I think she’s had a bit of crisis. There’s a slight scene in Waitrose. Please can you come and help?’
‘Of course I will. Sorry, Tom. I have to go . . .’
Clara didn’t wait for his goodbye as she ran off with Brian to help Margaret. By the time they arrived, the older woman was crying and repeating how she didn’t know how a packet of cashew nuts had got into her coat pocket.
‘I paid for them, I swear I did,’ she said, in between sobs when Clara arrived.
‘It’s okay, Margaret. I’m sure you meant to. Maybe there’s some confusion.’ Clara spoke in her calm and persuasive voice, which seemed to reassure Margaret. Brian stayed with her as Clara spoke to the lady on the checkout.
‘I’m so sorry. I think it’s early dementia. Please, she didn’t mean it. Can I pay for them myself? Would that help?’
‘It’s absolutely fine. We’re a dementia-friendly store. I just tried to explain that she’d popped them into her pocket before paying and she started sobbing and saying she’d paid. Then she got her phone out to call someone,’ said the cashier.
‘Ah, yes. I think she tried to call me, but I didn’t hear my phone.’ Clara felt partly to blame. Usually, she would have heard the phone, but earlier she had been too busy searching for Tom to pay attention.
‘Thank you for your understanding. I’ll take her home.’
Crisis averted, Brian left Waitrose after being reassured Clara could manage on her own and she walked Margaret home. Clara remembered where Margaret lived from when her husband passed away a few years ago and she had gone to pay her respects.
‘I don’t remember putting them in my pocket,’ said Margaret all the way back.
‘Honestly, it’s fine. It was a genuine mistake. We all know you’re no thief. It’s one of those things. Try not to worry.’
‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Sometimes I remember things and sometimes I don’t.’
‘Oh, I know that feeling myself,’ said Clara, trying to make light of the situation as they arrived at Margaret’s front door.
‘You’re ever so kind. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Do you think you could come with me?’
Clara thought of all the jobs she had to do tomorrow, but also remembered how Margaret’s son lived in Australia. How would she feel if she felt increasingly lost in a bewildering world and had nobody to help?
‘I most definitely will. Do you remember what time the appointment is?’
‘Yes. It’s 5.45. I remember that precisely. I just can’t remember putting the nuts in my pocket.’
Clara thought of Tom. She was sure he would understand.
‘Don’t you worry, I’ll pick you up at 5.30 p.m.’
‘Thank you, Clara. What would we all do without you?’
‘Ah, you’d be absolutely grand.’
‘You’ve a heart of gold, you know that?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing. It’s my duty.’
As Clara walked away and dialled Tom, she considered how much she would love to be out with him tomorrow night, but she simply couldn’t let those who depended on her down. Surely, they could make it another time, she thought. He was bound to understand.
* * *
However, when Clara broke the news to Tom, his insecurities resurfaced and he wondered whether she was making excuses.
He understood that Margaret needed her, but he felt that he needed her too.
He needed her more than she would ever know, yet he began to think that the beautiful reverend he couldn’t get enough of was too busy for him, or possibly uninterested in him.
After all, if she knew him as well as he knew himself, she would run a mile, despite what Pat said.
Tom put the phone down, and began questioning everything. The doubts in his head told him he should walk away now, even though that was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. Oh, how he wished he didn’t always make things so complicated.