The soft rain pelting against the window was the only sound on an otherwise quiet Saturday night in the town of Binley Woods. Michael Evans, the town's resident vicar, was working on the following morning's sermon. Sitting at an ancient roll-top desk, he wrote intently, concentrating hard.
Michael was usually able to dash off a good sermon in just half an hour, but it was already well past that time and he had only written a few lines. He stared at the paper for several more seconds, and then stabbed the paper with his pen, uttering an unapologetic "damn".
From where she sat on a comfortable sofa, Alice Evans looked up from a book she was reading and gazed at her husband with affectionate amusement. She had a good idea of just what the subject of the sermon was.
At that moment, there was the sound of paper being crumpled; a wad of paper sailed through the air and nearly hit Alice square in the face. Protesting playfully, she lobbed it back at Michael with perfect aim.
"That's not nice!" Michael pretended to chide her, laughing.
"I know," Alice said mischievously, and went on, "You seem to be having a bit of difficulty with your sermon tonight. Attempting 'love thy neighbor' again, are you?"
"Well, yes. I do like most people that I've met, except—"
"Yes, I know of whom you are thinking," Alice said with a knowing smile. She returned to her reading and Michael retrieved a fresh sheet of paper. Once again he began to write; he was determined to finish this sermon.
Half an hour later, he pushed back the paper and pen and stood up with a sigh of relief. After closing the roll-top lid on the desk, he settled down on the sofa with his wife.
"Well, I've finished it," the vicar said triumphantly. "Yes, Hyacinth 'Bouquet' is my neighbor—I can't help that."
"How enlightened you are!" Alice said wickedly.
"I have something to announce," Michael said. He paused for effect and then continued. "I have vowed to stop avoiding the Bucket woman."
Alice laughed outright, turning to look at her husband with a crooked grin.
"You don't think I can do it, Ally?"
"Wel-el…as George Washington was reputed to have said, 'I cannot tell a lie'. I'm sorry, dear, but that's what I think."
"You'll be surprised!" the vicar reproved, somewhat defensively.
"Yes, I think that goes without saying," was Alice's sly comeback. Michael laughed good-naturedly. "Well, I walked right into that one, didn't I? Still, I will stick to my promise! You'll see, Alice Evans—you'll be taking back your words!"
"If you say so, dear," Alice said mildly.
…
"If you stay 'round when the Bucket woman wants to talk to you, I'll humbly admit that I was wrong," Alice said the following morning as she and Michael stepped out of their home on the grounds of the vicarage and started on the short walk to the church.
"You'll be doing that," Michael said determinedly. "If Emmett Hawksworth can do it, I can—you know he's always been rather nervous around Mrs. Bucket."
"'It's Bouquet'," Alice said airily, trying and failing to emulate Hyacinth's voice. "Anyway, it's a little different with Emmett—he married into her family, you know. He actually seems quite at ease with Mrs. 'Bouquet' now."
They were approaching the front lawn of the church; gazing around the congregation, which was already gathered, Michael spied a violently red hat bedecked with huge yellow poppies and sighed heavily.
"There she is," Michael muttered, but dutifully kept walking forward. Perhaps he could engage someone else in conversation before Hyacinth noticed him. Alas, the woman herself turned at that moment, spied the vicar, and smiled broadly.
"Vicar, how lovely to see you," Hyacinth said with the ingratiating tone he hated.
"Hello, Mrs. Buck—Bouquet," Michael corrected himself quickly. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing quite well, thank you. Richard will be along in a moment; he's talking to Elizabeth Warden. Vicar, since it's a few minutes before the service begins, I just wanted to invite you to—"
Michael suddenly looked (unconvincingly) reflective. In a voice that was equally suspect, he muttered something about having left the notes on his sermon at home.
"Excuse me if the service is a little delayed, but I must review my notes…one more…"
The vicar paused when he saw a subtly expectant expression on Alice's face. Rose and Emmett, who were standing beside Hyacinth, also exchanged knowing glances with each other. The vicar resumed his forced smile.
"What were you saying, Mrs. Bouquet?" he said amiably.
"I'd like to invite you to a supper in honor of the Queen's birthday. That's next week," Hyacinth said proudly.
"Of course I'll be there," Michael said quickly, wondering if he'd gone quite mad.
Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was time for the service to begin. As he strode toward the church with Alice walking beside him, he gave her a smug smile. She shrugged her shoulders in mock defeat.
"I admit it, you succeeded—this time," Alice said.
The vicar's 'love thy neighbor' sermon was not lacking in content, but it sounded rather uninspired, to put it kindly. He was relieved when he came to the end, and the communion service began.
Half an hour later, Michael was standing on the front step of the church with Alice, bidding farewell to the various members of the congregation. He greeted each one heartily, until Hyacinth and her outlandish hat appeared, with Richard in her wake. "Hello, Mr. 'Bouquet'," Michael said cheerfully; he had not had a chance to greet Richard earlier.
"Hello, Vicar, hello, Alice. It's a lovely day, isn't it?" Richard said with a smile.
Hyacinth pushed past Richard and looked scrutinizing at the vicar, which did not bode well for him.
"If you will excuse my boldness, Vicar," Hyacinth said, "you won't mind if I give you a suggestion about this morning's sermon?"
"Not…not at all," Michael said warily.
Without a moment's pause, Hyacinth dispensed her advice, saying, "I noticed the sermon lacked conviction. I understand; it's the first time you've tackled the subject of 'love thy neighbor'. Like you said, everyone is our neighbor—but, someday you'll learn—it doesn't mean we're all alike. Different social circles, you know."
"Hyacinth, leave it be," Richard said, looking embarrassed.
"I'm just giving the Vicar some advice, dear," Hyacinth said sweetly. "He is young, and is still learning the principles of these subjects. He may want solid advice from a dedicated parishioner."
Alice bristled; with a rare show of defiance, she tossed her head and glared at Hyacinth.
"I think my husband will ask for help if he wants it!" she said sharply. Hyacinth was surprised, and an annoyed frown momentarily crossed her face, though she quickly resumed her poised demeanor.
"I'm sure he will, dear," Hyacinth said condescendingly. "Now, you needn't apologize for your little outburst. I understand that it's a wife's duty to defend her husband."
"Hyacinth," Richard interrupted, and this time Hyacinth obeyed; she bid farewell to the Evanses (though her manner toward Alice was slightly frosty) and followed Richard to the Buckets' impeccably polished car.
"Of all things!" Alice said indignantly as she and Michael headed back to their house. Her gray eyes were flashing. "Talking to you like that! Advice, indeed! 'Young and inexperienced'! You've been out of seminary school for four years—I think you've had a good bit of experience!"
"Well, I'm glad I'm still young," Michael said humorously, to lighten the mood; Alice relaxed and smiled brightly.
"Young and handsome," she said coyly, reaching up to tousle her husband's hair.
…
The evening of the dinner was crisp and clear, and the air was cool and fresh. The twilight was silky purple, and it seemed too nice of an evening to be 'trapped' in Hyacinth Bucket's dining room. Michael unsuccessfully tried to wheedle Alice into a 'romantic walk in the park'.
"Do stop looking like you're going to your death, Michael," Alice gently reproved as he got into the driver's seat. "Have you forgotten your resolution?"
"Alice, you don't like the suppers any more than I do," Michael pointed out.
"I know. Well, it won't last forever, at least."
If there was one small consolation, it was that this night's dinner wasn't eaten by dim candlelight; the glittering chandelier in the Buckets' dining room was lit, and it threw bits of light on an enormous British flag that Hyacinth had put up. There was a large, framed photograph of the Queen on the wall as well. An elaborate centerpiece of red flowers and miniature British flags dominated the table.
Aside from the Buckets and the Evanses were a few other guests; Liz and a man whom she introduced as her husband, Dean, who was permanently home from overseas; Rose and Emmett; the Major; Mr. and Mrs. Barker-Finch, and Mrs. Councilor Nugent. How Hyacinth had convinced the latter to come, only the latter knew.
Hyacinth greeted the vicar cordially, but she was still slightly stiff in her manner when greeting Alice. Evidently Alice's show of spirit still rubbed raw with the Bucket woman.
The menu was enjoyable; it was composed of some light appetizers, with traditional English foods for the main course, and a variety of tasty desserts (excluding the rhubarb tarts; Hyacinth had forgotten to add sugar).
Hyacinth shrilly sang 'Hail, Britannia' and 'God Save the Queen' during dessert. Mrs. Councilor Nugent was the only one brave enough—or perhaps tactless enough—to visibly cringe, but Hyacinth did not notice.
So, the evening wasn't too unbearable, but the Evanses were still glad when it ended. It was when Hyacinth was bidding them farewell that the vicar was put to yet another 'test'.
"Vicar, I had a most splendid idea. Could I come by your home and see you and your lovely wife tomorrow?" she asked with that ingratiating smile.
" 'May I'," Alice corrected Mrs. 'Bouquet', before she could stop herself; Alice had taught English while she and Michael had been dating. Hyacinth frowned, but did not comment.
There was a long pause on the vicar's part. This did not sound good—but to say 'no', and prove that he wouldn't stick with his resolution!
"Yes, you certainly may come around tomorrow," Michael said tonelessly.
"Good! Richard and I will come by at one o'clock. Goodbye, Vicar. Have a lovely evening…you, too, Alice," she said, her manner to the vicar's wife slightly more friendly.
"I tremble to think about what her 'splendid idea' is," Michael said when he and Alice were heading home. "May the Lord grant me patience…a good deal of it."
