Fairytale of Headley Cross (3 page)

“Around to the left, though the gate, and it’s just inside the garden.”

“Be right back.”

****

Carson watched Maggie walk away. His heart had done that annoying skip-a-beat thing again as she spoke to him. Just like it had done the previous day. Maybe meeting her here wasn’t a good idea, after all. Just like trying to put up the lights without a coat or gloves. He pulled a few more hooks from his pocket. Still it’d be worth it when it was done. He hoped.

The other ladder clattered next to him and Maggie climbed up it. “Pass me the hooks.”

He gave her a handful, and she began attaching them to the guttering. “You’ve done this before,” he said.

“Dad always decorates the house. We lived in the States for a few years and picked up the habit there. When we came back, he kept up the tradition. Of course, a lot more people here do it now than they used to. Even though the lights look better in the snow than the rain we get here.”

Carson added the lights to the section in front of him. “What does your dad do?”

“Something to do with science. I’ve never understood it.” She took the string of lights from him and began attaching them.

He climbed down the ladder and moved it to the other side of her. “Did you manage to get hold of the right person yesterday?”

Maggie paused and looked at the lights. “Yeah. About five minutes after I rang you by mistake. I told him more or less what I told you.”

“How did he take it?”

“Not very well, but I’m tired of being lied to. Tired of being told what to do, what to wear, and what to spend my money on… Sorry. You don’t want to hear all this.”

Carson hung the lights. “It’s fine. You need to talk, and I’m here to listen.”

Maggie moved her ladder to the other side of his. “The thing is, I’m not sure he ever loved me. Or that I ever loved him. I think I was more fascinated by his success than anything else. Jan’s been telling me for weeks he was too controlling. He wanted my money in his account, dictated where we went, how I spent my free time, how I dressed, and all the while he was seeing some other woman. I was just his…his…” She broke off, struggling to keep her voice level.

Carson took pity on her. “I’m sorry. You must be cold, I know I am. How about we go inside, and I’ll make some something hot to drink? We can talk church business by the fire. It’s too dark to see to do this now, anyway.”

Ten minutes later, he settled into his favorite chair by the fire and rested one ankle over his knee. The fire crackled and glowed in the hearth. The Christmas tree twinkled in the corner of the room. The scent of the cinnamon cocoa filled him, and he smiled. He looked over the top of the mug at Maggie. “Warmer now?”

“Yes, thank you.” She sipped the hot drink.

“Thank you for your help in putting up the lights.”

“You’re welcome.”

Carson eased back in the chair. “How do you find doing Sunday school?”

She swirled the cocoa in the cup. “Straight to the point.”

He nodded. “No point beating around the bush. After all, that is why we’re both here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Maggie paused for a minute. “It’s hard,” she said finally.

“Oh?” He admired her honesty, even if that wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “In what way?”

“It’s not the lesson prep or the teaching, it’s just…” She took a drink of the cocoa. “I have two teams of six people who do three weeks on and three weeks off. But I’m the only one there all the time. I do all the teaching.”

“Really? Have you mentioned this to Jack?”

“No. I didn’t want it to look as if I were complaining.”

“Then leave it with me. Who covers when you’re away?”

She gave a slight laugh. “No one. Originally Esther Mulholland and I alternated with the rest of the teams, but she said she needed some time to sit in church with her husband.”

“I’m sure you would too at times.”

“I’m not married.” She grinned at him. “And Wesley never set foot in church, but it would be nice to be able to listen to the sermon sometimes.”

Carson scribbled notes on the paper on his desk. “OK, leave that with me as well. The other thing I wanted to talk about was the nativity.”

Maggie looked confused. “The nativity?”

“Yes. I’d like the Sunday school to do a nativity as part of the all age service the Sunday before Christmas. That’s Christmas Eve this year. And I was wondering if you’d be able to organize it.”

Her face was a picture. A charming mix of shock, fear and for an instant skepticism. Then she covered it and tilted her head at him.

“It doesn’t have to be a massive half hour production. Just a five minute retelling of the nativity story in place of the children’s talk that morning. It would be nice to have as many of the children involved as possible. Do you think it’s doable?”

Maggie sipped her cocoa. “I’ve written a simple one for work, so yeah. I’ll just take out all the songs and have them sing
Away in a Manger
or something similar. Thing is, I’d need a lot of help. There are only three Sundays left.”

Carson smiled. “Thank you. I’ll come and give you a hand.”

“Aren’t you preaching?”

“Not in the morning. I’m leading in the morning and preaching in the evening. I’ll do the children’s talk and then come out and give you a hand.”

She smiled back. “Thank you. Might even let you help cast it. As you’re unbiased.”

He laughed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

3

Carson followed the elders out of the vestry. Jack had arranged guest preachers for some of the weeks he would be away before Carson had been appointed, and today was one of them. It meant that after leading and doing the children’s talk, he was as ‘off-duty’ as a pastor could be and could sit with the congregation and just listen. Or at least he could if he hadn’t promised Maggie he’d go into Sunday school. This morning the task of preaching fell to one of the elders, Nate Holmes.

Carson sat in the pulpit and glanced down at the sheet of notices, convinced he’d manage to find a way to mess up this part of the service. He slid them into the front of his Bible and looked up. The church was packed. Chapel, he corrected. The church was the people, not the building. He spotted Maggie almost at once.

Blonde hair neatly piled on top of her head, not too much makeup and a red knit dress over black leggings. Warmth spread through him and his heart beat a little faster. What was it about her? She was involved with someone. At least she had been up until this week. So it was far too soon to—

He broke off, shaking himself.
Getting way ahead of yourself here, Carson. You have too much history to ever hope for that. Besides, you are here to pastor this church, not get romantically involved with them.

He glanced at the clock as the music stopped and rose to his feet. “Good morning. And welcome to Headley Baptist on the first Sunday in Advent.”

As always, the first twenty minutes flew, and he left the chapel with the children. His task that morning would be twofold. Help Maggie tell the children about the nativity and observe her and the other helpers as they taught Sunday school to the beginners’ class.

The Sunday school was known as YPS or young person Sunday, to fit in with all the other children’s work. The under threes were in the crèche. The beginner’s class, YPSB covered ages three to six years, YPS went from six to eleven, and the twelve-year-olds had a promotions class before graduating to the main service.

He sat at the back as Maggie got the children settled. She began with a few songs before dividing them into their groups for news and prayer. This gave even the youngest a chance to tell what they’d done during the week and ask for prayers for everything ranging from a sick rabbit to a cut finger. Then Maggie taught them the Bible story and memory verse.

She really was gifted in her ability to keep their attention. One of the children was a little disruptive, but instead of shouting at him, she merely took his hand and got him to help her. Once she’d finished the teaching, she told them about the nativity.

He smiled at the children’s enthusiasm. Of course they all wanted to be Mary or Joseph.

“It’ll be totally random,” Maggie said. “I’ll put all your names in a hat and pull them out. Only I don’t have a hat…”

Carson picked up on his cue and pulled his beanie out of his pocket. “I’ve got my thinking cap. Will that do?”

“It’s a Christmas hat,” one of the little ones said. “It’s got a reindeer on it.”

Carson grinned. “My mother gave it to me and told me I had to wear it to church to keep my ears warm. I expect your mummy tells you the same thing.”

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.”