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The air was crisp, a light dusting of snow topping the houses. Tadfield was picture-perfect as always. Each season here was more beautiful than the last.
Pushing open the gate to the cottage he called home, Adam smiled. The cars that purred past him held occupants now grown familiar. Some members of his congregation, others friends from the pub and the village beyond it. A horn beeped as a blue Volvo moved past him; he raised a hand to wave so long to Maggie from the cafe.
Could it have been just a few months since he arrived? It felt like he'd known this place all his life.
Pulling the bright knitted scarf he wore tighter around his neck, he headed towards the church. Pep had teased him about his habit of heading to the building when he needed to think things over. Going to bother the Boss, she’d called it, a warm smile on her face. Although she didn't share his beliefs, she never mocked his own exactly. Today, he had a particularly pressing matter to bother the Boss with. In his pocket, he carried yesterday's letter from the Bishop. A letter that could change their lives forever.
Adam dug in his pocket for the church keys and let himself inside. It was calm and hushed inside as usual. Soothing with the scent of furniture polish, flowers, and the intangible odour of three hundred years of prayers. Adam took a deep breath, allowing the surroundings to ground him and soothe his mind. From habit, he flicked on the Christmas tree lights; they glowed softly in the darkness. He could have, of course, flicked the main lights on, yet he didn’t bother. Besides, he knew his way around by now.
He bowed before the altar, then, without pause, he moved to light the candles. Beeswax flared into life, adding a warm kiss to the ambience. Many churches now use electric or oil-filled candles. To his great delight, he’d found a large supply of real candles not long after his arrival and restarted the practice of lighting them. Fell had installed ghastly plastic ones, their “Flame” nothing more than a light bulb. Soulless and artificial.
He raised his chin and smiled towards the rafters. He knew bats were roosting, their tiny furry bodies huddled together against the chill, snuggling their young. Reverend Fell had tried to have them removed, citing them as being unsanitary. However, someone (Adam suspected Shadwell) sabotaged his plans, summoning the nature conservationists. The bats were rapidly declared protected, and their roost was off-limits. In truth, they caused little damage, and the occasional droppings were easy enough to clear up. He smiled again as he saw the spray bottle of cleaner and the roll of kitchen paper, tucked beneath the altar. Just who had labelled the bottle “bat bum spray” remained a mystery. Adam chuckled to himself. He had his suspicions, convinced that one of the Sunday school children was the culprit, but it was all harmless in the grand scheme of things.
Kneeling at the altar rail, he steadied himself and clasped his hands in prayer and spoke silently.
“Hello, Boss, it's Adam. I've a problem. Well, not really a problem. World hunger is a problem, and I'm sure you're already working on that. I've had a letter from the Bish, and I don’t know what you want me to do. The thing is, they've offered me a choice: either I move on to a London church. One with great outreach programmes, doing powerful work, I'm certain, or to stay here and replace Fell. They haven't said where Fell would be moving to, and to be honest, I'm torn. I've a deadline of this Sunday. Move on or stay put.
“I thought I knew what I wanted, and that was being back in the city and yet…” he paused, the silence around him comforting, “I know you sent me here for a reason, and not just about Fell, but to reach out to people. There is a need here beneath the chocolate box exterior, both pastoral and social. People renting an Airbnb here would not understand just how difficult some locals find things. There is poverty hidden in the pastoral prettiness. I need your help, Boss. What do you want me to do?”
Minutes ticked by as Adam knelt, eyes closed and head bowed. He heard someone enter the church behind him. The scent of flowers followed closely by, drifting towards him. Quietly, he closed his prayer and shifted back to his feet. The woman at the rear of the church was a stranger to him and was wearing the most extraordinary mix of clothes. Colours and patterns clashed, and everything was topped off with row after row of multicoloured bead necklaces. Grasped in her gloved hands was a bouquet of wildflowers.
“Hello, can I help you?” Adam advanced towards the woman, smiling. “I'm Adam, I'm the vicar here. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
The woman grinned. “Oh, but I feel like I've known you for years, Adam. My Shadwell speaks so highly of you.”
Adam recovered his composure and held out his hand. “You must be Tracy, it's a great pleasure to meet you. Shadwell didn’t tell me you'd be visiting.” Tracy placed her hand into Adams's but failed to shake it. On a whim, he raised her hand and kissed the back of it. This apparently was precisely the right thing to do, as Tracy beamed and blushed.
“Such lovely, old-fashioned manners you have, Adam. My Shadwell did say you were a charmer.” Tracy made her way to a back pew and took a seat. Adam followed quickly. “Forgive me for saying, but you look like you’ve the weight of the world on your shoulders, young man. I'm a good listener if an outsider's opinion would help.”
Adam considered for a moment, then explained that the letter currently burning a hole in his pocket was the reason for his earlier prayer. Tracy had set down her flowers and began to fish around in a large handbag that Adam, for the life of him, couldn’t recall her carrying. Finally, she pulled out a striped paper bag and offered its contents to Adam.
Adam grinned as the scent of the contents hit his senses.”Pep always tells me to be careful about taking food from the fair folk."
Tracy's smile got broader, “A wise person, your Pep, but these are offered without malice. I find, a sweet often calms the mind. You can have some without obligation. I swear it on my name.” Adam reached and took the offered sweet with delight. Dropping it in his mouth, he groaned with pleasure as the sweet began to melt on his tongue.
“Tracy, these are wonderful. I take it you made them.”
“Brought them for my Shadwell. But you looked like you needed one. He won’t miss a few.” She handed over the bag, “I have more in my bag, love, so Shadwell won't miss out. Give your Pep the flowers if you like. A little gift from me. As to your problem, well, it seems to me you are exactly where you're needed. Maybe it wasn’t your plan, but who knows what the gods have in store for any of us. If you're worried about the other Rev, well, he’s made his bed, so now he’s going to have to lay in it. That's your Bishop's problem, not yours.”
“But I don’t want to move into the rectory. It's just not who I am, Tracy. I like our cottage; people feel free to drop in.”
Tracy chuckled. “Who says you have to move? That place is just a building, Adam, but you said that this place has problems. Couldn't you use it as a hub for the community? A place for people to find support and shelter. You could have a youth club, a seniors dinner club, rope some in to teach cooking. I've found that human men rarely learn. The wife passes, and suddenly they are living on tinned soup and sandwiches.” Tracy shuddered at the thought. “No tinned soup in my kitchen. It's vile stuff.”
Adam smiled, and the weight on his shoulders lifted. “Shadwell had tinned soup at ours once. He put so much pepper in it that it must have been well below the standards he’s used to. He has praised your cooking to me very often.”
“Well, he has very strange habits. Like drinking tea so sweet it's almost syrup, but I humour him.” Tracy blushed at the thought of the praise Shadwell had given her.
Adam picked up the flowers and grinned. “You know these are Pep's favourites, and out of season, right?”
Tracy nodded, “Shadwell mentioned it. I'm blessed with a good memory, as for out-of-season. Well, let's just say my Crow can grow anything I want, whenever I need them. You should hear them shout if any of their plants so much as wilt. They caught one with a leaf spot once. The poor plant was a nervous wreck after the row it got.”
“I’ve heard of people talking to plants. Is it like that?” Adam tilted his head in question.
Tracy roared with laughter. “If swearing counts as talking, then sure. Crow is good at languages and fluent in swearing in all of them.” Rising to her feet, she leaned and dropped a soft kiss on Adam's forehead. “You’ve decided then, Adam. I’m certain that all obstacles ahead of you will vanish. I wish you and your Pep a long and happy life. Have a wonderful Christmas, my dear. Right, I’d better get going. Shadwell promised to help with our Yule food preparations and, of course, him and my Colin headed for the hills just as the work started. High time they came home and got stuck in.”
“Can I walk you out?”Adam asked.
“No need, Adam, I know where I'm going. Oh, and don’t forget you were offered Christmas lunch by one of your youngsters. Shadwell told me all about it. Best to tell them you're coming, and bring a bottle or three with you. Just a thought in passing: next year, you could host a lunch up at the soon-to-be-old rectory. Lots of people would love the chance for company at the holidays. Home is always busy, of course. Yule starts before your holiday and carries on longer, so the cooking is endless. Right, I'd better fetch my boys and head home. My blessings to you.” With that, Tracy rose and quickly made her way out into the night.
Adam carried the flowers and his sweets up to the altar and blew out the candles. He stood and bowed, then headed out after Tracy. He stopped by the door, checked the heating timer, then turned off the Christmas tree lights.
Outside, the moon was bright, the sound of the village muffled by the banks of snow that had fallen. Adam turned the key in the lock, then straightened up and stowed the key away in his jacket pocket.
He was about to head home when something caught his attention in the darkened trees. A flash of brilliant red and a figure, now familiar in her multi coloured glory. A shape peeled away from a tree and moved close to Tracy. Adam had no doubt it was Shadwell. He raised a hand in greeting and called, “Happy Yule to you all.”
Shadwell's voice answered, his gruff voice filled with warmth. “Happy Christmas to you and yours, Adam.” There was a glimmer, and the couple melted into the air.
“Just wait till I tell Pep. She’ll be pissed that she didn't meet Tracy. Wonder if she might get the chance later on. I guess anything's possible, isn’t it, Boss?”