Chapter 19 – Cat Fight

As I neared the church, I noticed that the front doors were propped open, which made sense because the weather had been unusually warm. Not only was air wafting from the open doorway, but also voices; raised voices. I stopped in the middle of the sanctuary and could tell there was a loud discussion coming from the church office.

"No. No! NO! This will NEVER do!" I heard Mrs. Tishell yelling, practically screaming.

Rosie Edwards, the Curate, replied, "Well, in the Vicar's absence…"

"Yesss," Mrs. T sighed, "about that? You DO know that he's coming back? It's not like this is permanent… for you! Don't get too cozy, my dear."

"My dear?" Rosie started to say.

"YES! Oh he's coming back! And soon! And every little thing you have changed will go RIGHT BACK TO THE WAY IT WAS! And all your MODERN IDEAS? PHTTT! Tradition my girl!"

The Vicar had been gone for a while. He was off on a 'Spiritual Retreat,' or so the village called it, but everybody knew he went off fishin' and drinkin' – not necessarily in that order.

"Well, the District Director sent me here, while the man's gone!" Rosie answered, and louder this time. "And don't you think we ought to try and get along?"

"Hmph. Along? Like fish and chips, that sort of thing?" Mrs. T asked.

The Curate chuckled. "No, no. More like Peter and Paul. Mrs. Tishell, Sally, look, I know that you've been playing the organ for a long time…"

I didn't have to see them to know that they both must be red in the face. I knew how Mrs. T could get, plus I'd seen the Curate in upset action not long ago over Joe and Janice.

"Oh yes; a long time. Longer than you have even been acquainted with the faith!" Mrs. T spat back.

"What? I'll have you know I was raised in a very religious home!"

"Then why are you only a Curate? Hm? And not a Vicar?" Mrs. T challenged her statement. "Not quite up to the task, dearie?"

I heard the Curate take a deep breath, no doubt to scream back, so in the momentary silence I called out. "Hello? Anyone here?"

There was a longish pause, and the Curate popped out of her office. "Yes, I… I'm here." She looked angry and flustered.

"And me as well," Mrs. T added, popping her head out. "Oh hello MORWENNA!" She practically ran across the room and grabbed my hands. "I'm so very HAPPY for you and AL LARGE! Wonderful NEWS!"

I drew back from her sweaty grasp. "You don't have to yell. I'm standing right here…. and I'm not deaf."

Sally stood up straighter, and forced her hands to her sides, but her face was still flushed and her eyes were practically jumping out of their sockets. She and I hadn't really gotten along since she fired me after a half day's work in the chemist shop.

Behind her, the Curate rolled her eyes, and then she forced a smile as she walked over to me. She practically elbowed Mrs. T aside, who tried to nudge her right back.

Ever seen two broody chickens fight? That's just what they reminded me of. Clearly a turf war was in progress. I'd heard these two were at odds, but now I saw the truth.

"So, Miss Newcross, to what do I have the honour of helping you with today?" the Curate asked, talking my right hand in both of hers. "And your happy day is coming up! Soon!"

I didn't want to talk with Mrs. T standing right there. "Uhm, maybe we ought to go into your office?"

Mrs. T shook her head, turned on her heel, and stormed away. She stomped to the organ, sat down, turned it on, and began to play a mournful sounding piece, swaying back and forth on the stool like there as a stiff wind blowing.

The Curate gave me a smile. "Ah, yes; right. Come with me."

I followed her into her office, and the Curate closed the door with a slam, although it didn't cut out a lot of sound. She perched on the edge of her desk and peered at me. "Now… how can I?"

"I've heard from my mum. She's coming."

The music was louder now; a lot.

Rosie yelled, "What?"

"My MUM! She's coming…"

The organ grew louder and louder; the notes played faster and faster. Then the really loud pipes gave out a solid howl – a wall of sound that would have put a heavy metal band to shame.

The Curate's face clamped into a scowl, she grimaced, and her hands flew up in the air, and then flinging the door open, practically ran from her office. I wondered what was going to happen. The organ stopped, I heard a slight scuffle, muffled words, and then a loud slap (that well known sound of hand on cheek), followed by footsteps running out of the church.

The Curate came back to the office, straightened her stole and pawed at her mussed hair. She started to rub at large a red mark on her cheek. "Now," she tried to smile. "Where were we?"

"Oh my God. Mrs. T hit…"

She waggled her lower jaw. "You can see that there have been… ah, snags… complications." She tried to smile, but her mouth twitched. "Complications." Then her eyes started to leak tears. She snatched up a tissue. "Sorry… honk," she blew her nose. "My fault. Must be. Always is," she muttered. "Always hard to get people to change, you know? If it's not the organist, it's the secretary, or the decorating committee, the choir master…" she shrugged, and like throwing a switch she cut off that line of discussion. Rosie waggled her head, binned the tissue and faced me. "Now, about your mum. She is coming, to the wedding."

I stood up and touched her burning cheek. "You need ice for that."

"Oh, I'm fine, really," she sighed. "But ow," she touched her face. "Bit… awkward."

I stood up and took her arm. "Come on then! Let's get some air. I need it and you do as well."

The Curate glanced around her cluttered office. "Oh, fine. Right." She took off her clerical stole, hung it up, and then locked her office behind her.

I led the poor woman out to Al's car. "Come on now. Get in. I think I need a drink. And you do as well." I opened the passenger door for her to get in. "Uhm, not that I'm drinking, with the…"

She recoiled. "Right. But oh no. I couldn't."

"What? Curates don't eat and drink? I won't force you to have a cider. But at least we can go somewhere and have a quiet chat."

Rosie ducked her head. "Fine. Good. Right." She sighed again. "Maybe I need that."

I raised my eyebrows. "Great! Climb in and we'll go somewhere."

Rosie took a deep breath. "Just for a little while. I have things to do – but, later."