The Courtship of Dibley's Vicar
By Ashley McCall
Rating: PG (just to be a little risky)
Disclaimer: "The Vicar of Dibley" does not belong to me no matter how long I may pretend. Blessed are those to be entertained by the talented writer Richard Curtis and the lovely actress Dawn French thanks to the marvelous Production Company of Tiger Aspect. I'm just borrowing a few scenes from "Love and Marriage, " "Autumn," "Winter," "Spring," and "Summer." Any songs mentioned are not mine (imagine me owning the rights to Roberta Flack songs … wowie). No infringement intended.
~*~
Had there been any hints? Had she ever suggested in any way any attraction? She hadn't seen it. Or had she?
~*~
"… You see they already had a contract with Wonder Loaf." He was already laughing appreciatively, but explanations just seemed to be a given in Dibley.
"Yes, yes."
She was slightly confused, "So you get it?"
"Yes."
"Well, thank God."
As his laughing subsided, he gazed contently across the table, "Stay."
~*~
"Now that Hugo has left me, I'm all on my own. I thought you might like to come around."
He was the same ol' David with the exception of wanting company.
~*~
Alice and Hugo wanted to name their newborn daughter after her – Geraldine, little Geraldine.
"Good choice," the prideful grandfather sat on the arm of the sofa. "Excellent choice." But there was something other than pride in his eyes. What was it?
~*~
When Simon came down the stairs in that short robe, she suddenly felt embarrassed. Then she saw David's face, and she felt ashamed.
Why? Ashamed of getting caught? Ashamed of David knowing? But why would she care what he thought?
~*~
And there she was again – at David's house. Not a town meeting, not a Christmas party, just the two of them and a bottle of whiskey.
It didn't mean anything. They were … friends? She was the vicar and he was the chairman of the parish council. That was it.
Even though she couldn't believe David was trying to convince her of the gentler side of Herod, she almost understood his motives. But he was still being, "… naughty!"
~*~
They agreed. How strange! But he was being practical – even sentimental and considerate for her sake.
"Maybe this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
"Moving on," there was that look again. That look of unexplainable content – almost blissful.
~*~
Why hadn't she noticed? Subconsciously, she must have noticed, or she wouldn't have been so acceptable to or so comfortable in those situations.
Was she just starving for intellectual banter? Or was she truly attracted to David Horton? She would sleep on it.
~*~
David? Late for the council meeting? How odd! Was he really serious the other night? The hypothetical and the parenthetical were just that, weren't they?
Dibley – the state of confusion – as it were, was finally rubbing off on David and Geraldine.
Hugo said that David looked like a broken man before he disappeared. A broken man? Why hadn't she recognized?
There he was! Something within her jumped. Good lord, what was he wearing? He must have dressed out of Hugo's closet. Jeans and a hot pink shirt? Where was the real David Horton?
~*~
He was so full of surprises. The clothes, the money, becoming a member of the Labour Party! This is what they had discussed a few nights before. He was a new person. Geraldine did not know what to expect next.
"1, 2, 3…." David ran to the stage as a piano began to play. As he drew the curtain back, David revealed a baby grand, a cello, and candlelight. What were they playing? Oh – "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face."
Geraldine giggled as David pulled her out of her chair and waltzed her around. Suddenly, he was on one knee.
~*~
He said, "I love you." Suddenly, it didn't matter that David was a Tory or a millionaire. He said, "I love you."
"Alright then."
~*~
There wasn't much of a council meeting that night. If there had been, Geraldine had not noticed. David's blissful smile never faltered. So if Jim was repetitive, if Frank was tedious, or if Owen was irreverent, he didn't let it get to him.
David walked Geraldine home. He threaded her arm under his holding her hand and holding her close to his side. He had her now, and he wasn't going to let her go.
When they reached the vicarage, the awkwardness began. Within a few moments, their relationship had changed drastically. It was only a few days ago that they began to agree with each other – that took a couple of years to accomplish, but they had gone from friendly colleagues to bewildered betrothed in less than 5 minutes.
How were they supposed to act?
When all of Dibley was quiet, it was a deafening silence and of no help to the new couple. Geraldine wanted to break the silence. She was so happy. She wanted to say something – anything! But she could not find the words to express what she was feeling.
"Good night, Geraldine," David squeezed her hands tightly.
"Good night, David." She could not get his earlier words out of her mind – he loved her.
A grin slowly crept across David's face as he lifted Geraldine's hand to his lips. He squeezed her hands once more, "Good night."
"Night," Geraldine slid behind the door and watched as David walked back to the estate.
Overjoyed? Is that what she was feeling?
Geri climbed the stairs and got dressed for bed never giving thought to what she was doing. Her mind was fixed on the events of the night, on David. She threw herself face down onto the bed and released a contented sigh.
The last time she felt this happy, she had been expecting Simon for the weekend. Simon. The joy that had been surging through her body balled up and settled in the pit of her stomach.
"What have I done?"
~*~
She tossed and turned, but sleep would not come to her. She did not know how she let this happen or why David let it happen.
"I can't do this to him." The guilt she had struggled with after her affair with Simon was returning faster and stronger with each moment.
Every pang assured her that revenge, sorrow, and worse was around the corner – not only for her, but for David as well. He might not think of it now, but she had compromised everything – her reputation, her faith – just for a fling with his brother.
Geraldine did not want David to hate her – especially not for that. She decided that she would not give him the chance.
"End it now – quick and painless."
But she knew it would be painful. For her. Maybe she was being too rash. In David's hypothetical wonderings, he had mentioned Simon. He had given it some thought. Was he sorry for not trying to prevent it? Not that he could have done anything to stop her from seeing Simon.
She struggled with herself over every thought and analyzation to utter exhaustion. Between imagining how happy she could be with David and wondering how miserable she would make David, Geri fell asleep.
~*~
"I can't! I can't!" she had woken from a nightmare that she usually would consider a wonderful dream.
Despite the appearance of Sean Bean, she had been startled that she left David at the altar.
Geraldine decided that she had to call off the engagement – the sooner, the better – before she really hurt David.
~*~
He had a nightmare about Geri calling off the engagement. She almost backed down, but he wanted the assurance that she still intended to marry him.
"I really like you." She saw the anticipation of the "but" in David's eyes. "But just because we are the only two people in the village with a brain cell … it doesn't necessarily mean that we're right for each other. True love is what keeps marriages together – not truly stupid neighbors with a big dollop of loneliness thrown in."
Geraldine remembered the awkward silence from the night before. Even now, she knew she would not be feeling that overwhelming joy, that ultimate high after the present silence.
He simply said, "Yes. Fine." David was agreeing with her again, "As usual, you're right."
Quickly, he excused himself to the study. Geraldine felt her heart break.
"Still, you make my first mom look like a real stayer." Hugo – always finding the good.
All Geraldine could say was, "I'm sorry, Hugo." She wanted to apologize to David a million times over. Actually, she wanted to take back everything she had said in the last minute.
"I would, however, like it to be noted," David slid back into the den; "just for the minutes, as it were, that in the end, I did have the brains to recognize what an extraordinary woman you are and the intelligence to realize that the man who finally does spend his life with you will indeed be the luckiest of all men - even though so obviously it cannot be me."
Like a cordial handshake, the kiss David bestowed upon Geraldine's hand seemed to be sealing a deal – a deal Geraldine was beginning to regret.
~*~
For the rest of the night, Geraldine felt emptiness as if she lost something and nervousness as if she had made the wrong choice.
Being lost in thought, she realized everything that she didn't like about David were the same points she favored. His arrogance turned to confidence, his old-fashioned ways to gentleman ways, and his never- changing personality to constancy. Although David had a bland sense of humor, he did understand her jokes. And his habit of being brutally honest was growing on her.
At one time, "mean spirited" had been a fault David possessed, but it was fading from Geraldine's memory and being replaced by sentimentality.
Who was she to tell David that what he was feeling was not true love? Geraldine doubted herself. Was she really just swept away? Or was she truly smitten? But what if she was just feeling self-pity … or guilt?
"Ugh!" Geraldine's frustration was followed by a Curly Wurly bar. She hated it when her feelings wrestled with each other. She hated it even more when she felt helpless – leaving herself open to becoming a slave to chocolate.
She put her hands together, closed her eyes, and bowed her head, "Dear God, I need a sign."
Geraldine reached for another candy bar, but her endless supply was gone. Suspiciously, she looked up to the heavens.
~*~
The bishop gave his final blessings over little Geraldine as her family looked on. "She will always have God's love. But let us pray that she may one day find something, which in my long experience has been much harder to find."
Auntie Geri had to put on her cheery/humorous persona. "Sane clergymen?" she whispered to David.
But the bishop had heard her, "No – the true love of another person."
Geraldine tried to sneak a glimpse of David, but he looked down to meet her gaze. She scrunched up her nose and grinned as Jim began to play "Baby Love" on the organ. She had to put up a front – everything normal, nothing out of the ordinary.
Somehow in that moment, she knew – she just knew David was the one. It didn't take proper wooing. It didn't take an enchanting moonlit stroll. It didn't take a kiss. She knew.
Maybe God heard the prayer of the bishop and blessed both Geraldines. She could not be sure. She was sure of one thing – of her mistake. How could she erase yesterdays? She was afraid she would never be able to correct her mistake. Dignity no longer mattered.
~*~
At the vicarage, Geraldine's parish family congregated to celebrate a new life and a new member of their family. The loving parents sat on the sofa with a great-godparent (both odd, but caring) on each side. The godfather leaned against the fireplace with dignity and a new suit while the godmother busied herself in making everyone comfortable. But the proudest and the smallest of them all occupied a quiet corner of the quaint home.
As Geraldine brought out another tray of goodies, she caught a glimpse of David holding the tiny being dressed in frills and layers of a christening gown. It seemed as if he might pop in that double-breasted suit of his. Geraldine could imagine her namesake growing up to have that same look of adoration towards her Grandfather, and her Grandfather would never find fault in her – even if she inherited the Tinker brain (although Geraldine believed David would fight with the greatest fervor to educate and civilize his posterity).
At the moment, none of that mattered. This moment was as simple as love of the purest variety. A grandfather looking down into the eyes of the future and sharing his knowledge of life with a gaze. Soon Baby Geraldine was lulled to sleep in the security of his arms, and Owen, Jim, and Frank left in silence.
The baby was returned to her mother with the greatest of care and then eased into her bassinet. Alice started toward the kitchen to help Geraldine.
"No," Geraldine took Alice's coffee mug, "I've got this. Just take your little family home."
"Are you sure?" Alice asked peeking into the kitchen.
As if to answer, a tiny whimper came from the bassinet.
Geraldine agreed, "Yes, I'm sure. The Geraldines vote unanimously." She leaned over the bassinet, "Good-bye, sleepy one," and gave her goddaughter a kiss on the forehead.
Hugo secured a blanket around baby Geraldine, picked up the bassinet, and headed toward the door. He and Alice turned to wave and to say their good- byes.
"Bye," Geraldine sighed as she looked around her empty, somewhat disheveled, living room. Placing the mug and a napkin on a tray, she turned around and nearly ran into David.
"Oh!" She put her hand to her chest, "You frightened me, David."
"Let me take that for you." Before Geraldine could answer, David had taken the tray into the kitchen.
"Um. OK. All right. I … um," she quickly straightened the magazines on the coffee table and scampered into the kitchen.
David had just washed the last coffee mug and picked up a dishtowel. He thoroughly dried each dish (inside and outside, front and back) handing them off to Geraldine to put them in their proper places.
As she placed a dish in an upper cabinet, Geraldine began her coquettish behavior - shamelessly giggling and smiling. "You didn't have to do that."
David threw the towel over his shoulder, "No trouble."
"Thank you," she sighed.
David chuckled, "I should thank you for saving the bishop from my 'truly disgusting sherry'." He spared no expense at imitating his old schoolmate.
Geraldine leaned against the counter batting her eyelashes. David smirked and dried his hands again. Silence.
"Well," David folded the towel and placed it next to the sink; "I should be going."
Geraldine suddenly transformed to her normal self with a more disappointed air. "Of course." She followed him to the door, "Oh. David, just one moment."
Geraldine reached behind the door and removed the hat that David had left behind the night he "hypothetically proposed." David took the hat and traced the path of the rim with the inside of his hand. For a moment, a thoughtful pout surfaced on his usually stern, yet sarcastic, face, but it was erased with half a smile. "Goodbye."
To Be Continued …
By Ashley McCall
Rating: PG (just to be a little risky)
Disclaimer: "The Vicar of Dibley" does not belong to me no matter how long I may pretend. Blessed are those to be entertained by the talented writer Richard Curtis and the lovely actress Dawn French thanks to the marvelous Production Company of Tiger Aspect. I'm just borrowing a few scenes from "Love and Marriage, " "Autumn," "Winter," "Spring," and "Summer." Any songs mentioned are not mine (imagine me owning the rights to Roberta Flack songs … wowie). No infringement intended.
~*~
Had there been any hints? Had she ever suggested in any way any attraction? She hadn't seen it. Or had she?
~*~
"… You see they already had a contract with Wonder Loaf." He was already laughing appreciatively, but explanations just seemed to be a given in Dibley.
"Yes, yes."
She was slightly confused, "So you get it?"
"Yes."
"Well, thank God."
As his laughing subsided, he gazed contently across the table, "Stay."
~*~
"Now that Hugo has left me, I'm all on my own. I thought you might like to come around."
He was the same ol' David with the exception of wanting company.
~*~
Alice and Hugo wanted to name their newborn daughter after her – Geraldine, little Geraldine.
"Good choice," the prideful grandfather sat on the arm of the sofa. "Excellent choice." But there was something other than pride in his eyes. What was it?
~*~
When Simon came down the stairs in that short robe, she suddenly felt embarrassed. Then she saw David's face, and she felt ashamed.
Why? Ashamed of getting caught? Ashamed of David knowing? But why would she care what he thought?
~*~
And there she was again – at David's house. Not a town meeting, not a Christmas party, just the two of them and a bottle of whiskey.
It didn't mean anything. They were … friends? She was the vicar and he was the chairman of the parish council. That was it.
Even though she couldn't believe David was trying to convince her of the gentler side of Herod, she almost understood his motives. But he was still being, "… naughty!"
~*~
They agreed. How strange! But he was being practical – even sentimental and considerate for her sake.
"Maybe this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
"Moving on," there was that look again. That look of unexplainable content – almost blissful.
~*~
Why hadn't she noticed? Subconsciously, she must have noticed, or she wouldn't have been so acceptable to or so comfortable in those situations.
Was she just starving for intellectual banter? Or was she truly attracted to David Horton? She would sleep on it.
~*~
David? Late for the council meeting? How odd! Was he really serious the other night? The hypothetical and the parenthetical were just that, weren't they?
Dibley – the state of confusion – as it were, was finally rubbing off on David and Geraldine.
Hugo said that David looked like a broken man before he disappeared. A broken man? Why hadn't she recognized?
There he was! Something within her jumped. Good lord, what was he wearing? He must have dressed out of Hugo's closet. Jeans and a hot pink shirt? Where was the real David Horton?
~*~
He was so full of surprises. The clothes, the money, becoming a member of the Labour Party! This is what they had discussed a few nights before. He was a new person. Geraldine did not know what to expect next.
"1, 2, 3…." David ran to the stage as a piano began to play. As he drew the curtain back, David revealed a baby grand, a cello, and candlelight. What were they playing? Oh – "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face."
Geraldine giggled as David pulled her out of her chair and waltzed her around. Suddenly, he was on one knee.
~*~
He said, "I love you." Suddenly, it didn't matter that David was a Tory or a millionaire. He said, "I love you."
"Alright then."
~*~
There wasn't much of a council meeting that night. If there had been, Geraldine had not noticed. David's blissful smile never faltered. So if Jim was repetitive, if Frank was tedious, or if Owen was irreverent, he didn't let it get to him.
David walked Geraldine home. He threaded her arm under his holding her hand and holding her close to his side. He had her now, and he wasn't going to let her go.
When they reached the vicarage, the awkwardness began. Within a few moments, their relationship had changed drastically. It was only a few days ago that they began to agree with each other – that took a couple of years to accomplish, but they had gone from friendly colleagues to bewildered betrothed in less than 5 minutes.
How were they supposed to act?
When all of Dibley was quiet, it was a deafening silence and of no help to the new couple. Geraldine wanted to break the silence. She was so happy. She wanted to say something – anything! But she could not find the words to express what she was feeling.
"Good night, Geraldine," David squeezed her hands tightly.
"Good night, David." She could not get his earlier words out of her mind – he loved her.
A grin slowly crept across David's face as he lifted Geraldine's hand to his lips. He squeezed her hands once more, "Good night."
"Night," Geraldine slid behind the door and watched as David walked back to the estate.
Overjoyed? Is that what she was feeling?
Geri climbed the stairs and got dressed for bed never giving thought to what she was doing. Her mind was fixed on the events of the night, on David. She threw herself face down onto the bed and released a contented sigh.
The last time she felt this happy, she had been expecting Simon for the weekend. Simon. The joy that had been surging through her body balled up and settled in the pit of her stomach.
"What have I done?"
~*~
She tossed and turned, but sleep would not come to her. She did not know how she let this happen or why David let it happen.
"I can't do this to him." The guilt she had struggled with after her affair with Simon was returning faster and stronger with each moment.
Every pang assured her that revenge, sorrow, and worse was around the corner – not only for her, but for David as well. He might not think of it now, but she had compromised everything – her reputation, her faith – just for a fling with his brother.
Geraldine did not want David to hate her – especially not for that. She decided that she would not give him the chance.
"End it now – quick and painless."
But she knew it would be painful. For her. Maybe she was being too rash. In David's hypothetical wonderings, he had mentioned Simon. He had given it some thought. Was he sorry for not trying to prevent it? Not that he could have done anything to stop her from seeing Simon.
She struggled with herself over every thought and analyzation to utter exhaustion. Between imagining how happy she could be with David and wondering how miserable she would make David, Geri fell asleep.
~*~
"I can't! I can't!" she had woken from a nightmare that she usually would consider a wonderful dream.
Despite the appearance of Sean Bean, she had been startled that she left David at the altar.
Geraldine decided that she had to call off the engagement – the sooner, the better – before she really hurt David.
~*~
He had a nightmare about Geri calling off the engagement. She almost backed down, but he wanted the assurance that she still intended to marry him.
"I really like you." She saw the anticipation of the "but" in David's eyes. "But just because we are the only two people in the village with a brain cell … it doesn't necessarily mean that we're right for each other. True love is what keeps marriages together – not truly stupid neighbors with a big dollop of loneliness thrown in."
Geraldine remembered the awkward silence from the night before. Even now, she knew she would not be feeling that overwhelming joy, that ultimate high after the present silence.
He simply said, "Yes. Fine." David was agreeing with her again, "As usual, you're right."
Quickly, he excused himself to the study. Geraldine felt her heart break.
"Still, you make my first mom look like a real stayer." Hugo – always finding the good.
All Geraldine could say was, "I'm sorry, Hugo." She wanted to apologize to David a million times over. Actually, she wanted to take back everything she had said in the last minute.
"I would, however, like it to be noted," David slid back into the den; "just for the minutes, as it were, that in the end, I did have the brains to recognize what an extraordinary woman you are and the intelligence to realize that the man who finally does spend his life with you will indeed be the luckiest of all men - even though so obviously it cannot be me."
Like a cordial handshake, the kiss David bestowed upon Geraldine's hand seemed to be sealing a deal – a deal Geraldine was beginning to regret.
~*~
For the rest of the night, Geraldine felt emptiness as if she lost something and nervousness as if she had made the wrong choice.
Being lost in thought, she realized everything that she didn't like about David were the same points she favored. His arrogance turned to confidence, his old-fashioned ways to gentleman ways, and his never- changing personality to constancy. Although David had a bland sense of humor, he did understand her jokes. And his habit of being brutally honest was growing on her.
At one time, "mean spirited" had been a fault David possessed, but it was fading from Geraldine's memory and being replaced by sentimentality.
Who was she to tell David that what he was feeling was not true love? Geraldine doubted herself. Was she really just swept away? Or was she truly smitten? But what if she was just feeling self-pity … or guilt?
"Ugh!" Geraldine's frustration was followed by a Curly Wurly bar. She hated it when her feelings wrestled with each other. She hated it even more when she felt helpless – leaving herself open to becoming a slave to chocolate.
She put her hands together, closed her eyes, and bowed her head, "Dear God, I need a sign."
Geraldine reached for another candy bar, but her endless supply was gone. Suspiciously, she looked up to the heavens.
~*~
The bishop gave his final blessings over little Geraldine as her family looked on. "She will always have God's love. But let us pray that she may one day find something, which in my long experience has been much harder to find."
Auntie Geri had to put on her cheery/humorous persona. "Sane clergymen?" she whispered to David.
But the bishop had heard her, "No – the true love of another person."
Geraldine tried to sneak a glimpse of David, but he looked down to meet her gaze. She scrunched up her nose and grinned as Jim began to play "Baby Love" on the organ. She had to put up a front – everything normal, nothing out of the ordinary.
Somehow in that moment, she knew – she just knew David was the one. It didn't take proper wooing. It didn't take an enchanting moonlit stroll. It didn't take a kiss. She knew.
Maybe God heard the prayer of the bishop and blessed both Geraldines. She could not be sure. She was sure of one thing – of her mistake. How could she erase yesterdays? She was afraid she would never be able to correct her mistake. Dignity no longer mattered.
~*~
At the vicarage, Geraldine's parish family congregated to celebrate a new life and a new member of their family. The loving parents sat on the sofa with a great-godparent (both odd, but caring) on each side. The godfather leaned against the fireplace with dignity and a new suit while the godmother busied herself in making everyone comfortable. But the proudest and the smallest of them all occupied a quiet corner of the quaint home.
As Geraldine brought out another tray of goodies, she caught a glimpse of David holding the tiny being dressed in frills and layers of a christening gown. It seemed as if he might pop in that double-breasted suit of his. Geraldine could imagine her namesake growing up to have that same look of adoration towards her Grandfather, and her Grandfather would never find fault in her – even if she inherited the Tinker brain (although Geraldine believed David would fight with the greatest fervor to educate and civilize his posterity).
At the moment, none of that mattered. This moment was as simple as love of the purest variety. A grandfather looking down into the eyes of the future and sharing his knowledge of life with a gaze. Soon Baby Geraldine was lulled to sleep in the security of his arms, and Owen, Jim, and Frank left in silence.
The baby was returned to her mother with the greatest of care and then eased into her bassinet. Alice started toward the kitchen to help Geraldine.
"No," Geraldine took Alice's coffee mug, "I've got this. Just take your little family home."
"Are you sure?" Alice asked peeking into the kitchen.
As if to answer, a tiny whimper came from the bassinet.
Geraldine agreed, "Yes, I'm sure. The Geraldines vote unanimously." She leaned over the bassinet, "Good-bye, sleepy one," and gave her goddaughter a kiss on the forehead.
Hugo secured a blanket around baby Geraldine, picked up the bassinet, and headed toward the door. He and Alice turned to wave and to say their good- byes.
"Bye," Geraldine sighed as she looked around her empty, somewhat disheveled, living room. Placing the mug and a napkin on a tray, she turned around and nearly ran into David.
"Oh!" She put her hand to her chest, "You frightened me, David."
"Let me take that for you." Before Geraldine could answer, David had taken the tray into the kitchen.
"Um. OK. All right. I … um," she quickly straightened the magazines on the coffee table and scampered into the kitchen.
David had just washed the last coffee mug and picked up a dishtowel. He thoroughly dried each dish (inside and outside, front and back) handing them off to Geraldine to put them in their proper places.
As she placed a dish in an upper cabinet, Geraldine began her coquettish behavior - shamelessly giggling and smiling. "You didn't have to do that."
David threw the towel over his shoulder, "No trouble."
"Thank you," she sighed.
David chuckled, "I should thank you for saving the bishop from my 'truly disgusting sherry'." He spared no expense at imitating his old schoolmate.
Geraldine leaned against the counter batting her eyelashes. David smirked and dried his hands again. Silence.
"Well," David folded the towel and placed it next to the sink; "I should be going."
Geraldine suddenly transformed to her normal self with a more disappointed air. "Of course." She followed him to the door, "Oh. David, just one moment."
Geraldine reached behind the door and removed the hat that David had left behind the night he "hypothetically proposed." David took the hat and traced the path of the rim with the inside of his hand. For a moment, a thoughtful pout surfaced on his usually stern, yet sarcastic, face, but it was erased with half a smile. "Goodbye."
To Be Continued …