Once again thanks to my faithful readers, especially to those who left reviews.

Once they had safely escaped the police, now out of mutual sight as Harry and James hurriedly rounded the bend screening the church and its precincts from the nearby road the Vicarage was situated on, Harry was anticipating a barrage of questions from his pugilist companion. A move that would be unwise given the clear carrying quality of the frosty air combined with the relative proximity of the still infuriated uniforms. To his surprise James remained as silent as the graves they'd just turned their backs upon as they steadily trudged the short distance towards his front door. Harry, although grateful for this reticence, having already been puzzling over James' provenance, was finding himself increasingly intrigued as to how come a gun toting action man prancing around in a clerical collar had ended up ministering to a set of parishes stuffed with twee middle class liberals, as represented by the now absent Robin Tindall, not mention, definitely not to mention, the regrettably still present and utterly pretentious Emma Winnick. At least the events of the last hour had provided a possible solution to one question that had been puzzling him, namely why the agnostic Jane had become heavily involved in local church politics. She must have warmed to James both for his commonsense and his outsider mindset. Then an alternative explanation struck Harry. Oh God she didn't fancy James, did she! Harry had heard about cougar women but he'd never thought of Jane in that light. He himself was too elderly to be preyed upon in that way, or so he hoped, the prospect of being stalked by an eighty plus pensioner lacked appeal. As he'd explained to Jane earlier in the evening he'd recently experienced enough difficulties when politely, but firmly, rejecting the amorous advances made by women of his own age, or even younger.

The uneasy silence continued while James unlocked his door and gestured Harry inside a sizeable and very draughty entrance lobby. From there it was just a short step into the much warmer sitting room, a comfortable space designed for relaxation, its most dominant articles of furniture being a large screen television and squishy sofa. In any normal bachelor pad Harry, observing the length and breadth of the latter with awe and memories, would have unhesitatingly characterised it as a seduction sofa but since he presumed that James' calling required him to live up to the demands of the dog collar, rather than down to those of the eternal Adam of the underpants, Harry therefore assumed that the it was used just for solo crashing out. Books, papers and general jumble implied that James spent most of his free time holed up here. Given the size of the Vicarage that was understandable. Harry might be more personally organised on the tidiness front, but when a breach in his personal security about a decade ago had required an enforced change of residence, tired of rattling around a family sized property he'd grabbed the opportunity to downsize to a smaller house.

While Harry was noting all of this, his host, throwing his own coat carelessly over a nearby chair brusquely informed him. "I don't need the doctor." Before belatedly remembering his manners and asked the most pressing question of the evening, "Can I offer you a drink Sir Harry, tea, coffee or something stronger?"

After the freezing events he'd just played his part in Harry would just about have sold his soul, what was left of it after years of MI5, for a whisky, but not being sure if James' drink cabinet extended beyond the traditional vicar's sherry he shook his head regretfully,

"As I still have to drive back to London and the breathalyser squads are out in force I think coffee, please."

"Probably best. If tonight is typical of your encounters I'm guessing that the uniformed service would just an impeccable excuse love to arrest an MI5 officer."

Harry wasn't certain if this rejoinder should count as a criticism or whether it was intended merely a truthful observation on the realities of life as he lived it. While he opted not to react to this ambiguity, James, morphing into formal pastoral mode now that the immediate emergency had passed, if only for the moment, added, "And Sir Harry do feel free to take off your coat and sit down."

"Just Harry please." the titled one replied while he was biting on the bullet of how best to explain his presence without giving any real information about himself, or his delicate standing with Jane, "and I suppose you must be wondering..."

Only for James to interrupt with a sardonic grin, "Not required, once I glimpsed your id card and heard your full title a great deal became clear."

"Indeed." So exactly how much of his personal cover had been blown? The professional variety was now plainly past praying for.

"Tell me if I'm wrong. I overheard you telling young Wayne that you had a grown up daughter and son. I'm guessing that they're called Catherine and Graham, which makes you Jane's mysterious ex husband." Before Harry could respond James corrected himself, "Or rather her first ex husband."

"As she's still technically married to Robin you were right the first time." It came to him. Deflection: that was the technique to utilise. Steering the conversation away from himself Harry expressed his mirroring curiosity about the person he'd suddenly ended up in cahoots with – the most unvicarly vicar he'd ever encountered. "Anyway that's not half as mysterious as to how a cleric who apparently spends his spare time rehearsing for a trial with the SAS winds up as the vicar of a sleepy country parish."

As he said it he wondered if James would take offence, judging by the reply seemingly not.

"No great mystery there. As Jane may or may not have mentioned after being ordained I became a chaplain with the army, I was sent to Helmand. I was also engaged to be married. My fiancé wasn't happy, frightened, claimed it was the threat of danger. So I came out and entered parish ministry. Then she announced that she wasn't happy at the prospect of being married to a clergyman and wanted me to resign my orders. It was her or the church." He paused for a moment, from the sudden determined set of the jaw Harry recognised with a jolt the pain of someone being rejected by a woman he adored. Was this what he'd looked like for months, and still did in odd unwitting moments of remembrance? When James' next words struggled forth they took the form of an almost an unspoken rebuke to Harry's earlier flippant thoughts in respect of James' attitude to his job.

"I know people scoff at the idea of vocation, but despite my antics in the graveyard I feel called to this, so reluctantly I chose the church."

"Not an easy decision I'd guess." Giving James a few moments to recover himself Harry asked, "I'm still a little puzzled though, I've been unfortunate enough to encounter your bishop, he thinks the security services are a symbol of state oppression, and places the army within the same set of brackets, so how on earth did you manage to swing an appointment in his diocese."

Harry was almost shuddering at his recollection of that particular prat in purple, as red as baboon's backside with the patronising air of one who though he alone had a hot line to God. The mitred personification of the old saw that there was no one as illiberal as a liberal, everyone else was wrong and had to dragged to see the glorious light as revealed to him, the divinity's mouthpiece. As an advert for atheism Harry might have respected him, as member of the House of Lords with a voice and vote on security issues affecting the nation Harry inclined to the view that he posed a bigger threat to the nation's defence than Al Qaeda.

James flashed a brief boyish grin that reminded Harry of himself several decades ago when outwitting superiors, "He didn't have much choice, the living's patron is Sir Bertram Calthorpe-Smythe, he's army born and bred, Colonel of the outfit I was attached to. He appointed my predecessor here on ecclesiastical recommendation, only to have him offend the traditional sensibilities of many of the congregation, so this time around he wasn't about to agree to any suggestion floating out from the Bishop's Palace."

Harry was becoming intrigued by the internal village wars, which no doubt echoed in miniature his daily round and common task, leading him to a sparse two word query, "What happened?"

"The bishop's choice shared the bishop's views on the military and beyond. He actually refused to allow any red poppies in the church for Remembrance day, white only were allowed. He was also unwise enough to launch into a tirade about wars which included referring to the Falklands War as the 'Falklands Folly' seemingly either oblivious, or uncaring, that one couple of elderly parish stalwarts had lost their son in that skirmish." Harry who had had to endure much in terms of loss was aghast at the sheer insensitivity being recounted. James after a brief pause for breath continued his tale of clerical incompetence. "In the dark you probably didn't notice the CWGC gravestone tucked away in the churchyard. I've been told that the entire village turned out for his funeral. Anyway after that incident, for which he refused to apologise - even worse he took to the pulpit the following week to criticise his critics for criticising him - the congregation numbers began to drop like a stone." James then added with a cynicism worthy of Harry, "More importantly from the diocesan perspective so did the church income with the result that the bishop's blue eyed boy was persuaded that his talents lay elsewhere, in some quasi advisory post I believe."

That was a manifestation of the religious life that Harry could truly believe in without need for agnostic caveat. "Sounds fairly typical of everyone's management."

Harry was talking to the air. James, having made his not so wild guess about Harry's identity and having also disclosed the salient points of his own life story, had vanished into the kitchen leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. Thoughts that were almost immediately interrupted when his mobile began to vibrate. What a surprise! It was Jane calling, probably to berate him for something or anything. Picking up he didn't even have to speak when Jane gasped with evident relief,

"If you can answer I assume you're alright. I was worried. The police rang to say they are coming to take a statement but didn't say what had happened."

Harry blessed the police for their failure to act quickly in corralling Jane as a witness. Or just possibly they had left the opportunity for collusion open in the hope of quick file closure. As the monosyllabic youths Harry occasionally had to interview would have said, "Whatever."

"James and I are both fine, although James was roughed up a little. Jane you just need to tell them what you actually saw and heard. Leave any lying to me."

The reply was a cross between a chortle and gurgle, "I know – the next part of the sentence is 'I'm so much better at it than you."

Harry's voice held an answering smile, "Yes, I've never been sure if it is a life skill or job requirement." In the background he heard the unmistakable sound of a doorbell being pressed. "It seems they've arrived. Don't worry Jane, compared to some problems I've had to sort out this is a minor incident."

Having rung off he turned to see James standing in the kitchen door with two mugs in his hand, having clearly overheard this conversation and the warmth in Harry's voice.

"Sorry I didn't intend to listen in."

Passing Harry one of the mugs from which the rich aroma of a good rich coffee was arising, James plumped himself into an armchair leaving Harry to follow suit on the sofa. Harry was thankful for the opportunity to flop, he wasn't about to admit it but his only just healed shoulder was aching like hell, the natural result of his ill advised activity of the evening. Harry as he sipped his drink reassured James,

"It wasn't entirely private and I know enough about the C of E to be aware that confessional rules can be applied to personal exchanges with a priest."

"And are you requesting that?"

"Not particularly. There's a difference between a solid secret and something that for preference should be kept private. I can't really see you rushing to gossip with Emma Winnick."

James' look at revulsion at the idea of confiding in that women was succeeded by the inevitable question, the one Harry had expected but had hoped to avoid, as James having swallowed a reviving mouthful of his own drink replied thoughtfully, "If I offer you confessional rules will you please tell me exactly what you are doing here, especially in relation to Jane." As a form of encouragement he added, "My interest is purely pastoral. I'm very fond of Jane and would like to see her happy. She's said little, but I know from what she hasn't said that she's had some difficulties over the last couple of years. Then she vanishes unexpectedly for three weeks and on returning announces that she and Robin are divorcing. She seems like a new woman. It reminds me of one of Les Dawson's jokes."

Harry almost laughed out loud, "After tonight I'll have to revise my view that the church had gone PC. Which joke did you mean?"

"The one where he says he's just got rid of sixteen stone of unwanted ugly weight, he divorced her. I don't quite have his delivery though."

Swap the gender, ignore the fact that Robin was somewhat lighter in person, and Harry reckoned that James had got it in one. The evening so far had been full of surprises, so topping it off by swapping confidences with a clergyman, a member of a profession that condemned outright the majority of activities that formed Harry's working life, was only the last of many. Normally this was an activity he would have passed on, but James was apparently cut from a very different cloth to the more usual wet liberals, zealots or airy intellectuals who claimed to be God's representatives on earth. Joint experience of battle was leading to comradeship, just as it had in his army days. Other than Malcolm he'd made his best friends there.

"Very well, like your reasons for being here it isn't really very complicated." 'Am I trying to convince myself or you James?'

Sinking more deeply into the sofa cushions Harry tried to condense thirty five years of coruscating emotions into a few sentences. "Jane and I divorced after about ten years of marriage. It was an utterly painful experience for both of us and set up a situation in which we hardly ever met or even communicated. We both more or less went our own ways, especially after Jane remarried." Harry paused to sip his drink wondering whether to express a candid opinion of Robin. Deciding that discretion was the better part of confession he left that aspect of the topic well alone, he didn't want to sound either bitter, which he had been, but had now put behind him, or critical of Jane, which he had been, but had forgiven as far as possible. "As far as I knew Jane was happily married and once the children were grownup our contact was minimal. Then a few weeks ago Catherine our daughter went missing. For reasons I can't tell you due to its being an official secret someone decided to bomb her flat and Jane was injured as result."

Glancing he saw that James was listening with interest but wasn't about to interrupt. Harry briefly debated whether this was clerical training or had James been taught the same elementary techniques of low level interrogation that Harry himself was such a master of. Harry wasn't intimidated and proof against this, but he had made an agreement which he needed to fulfil.

"Because I was down to be contacted if anything untoward happened at that address I was called to the hospital expecting to see Catherine and instead found Jane. It took quite an argument but in the end she agreed to accept my offer to stay overnight at my house. Once it became clear that Catherine really was missing it made sense for her to remain with me in case of news. I'm not saying it was easy for either of us but we did manage to rub along together. All together we were sharing my roof for about three weeks during which time we both concluded that we'd prefer to remain friends."

Harry's hope that this truncated story would be accepted without further query was disappointed when James quietly asked, "And Robin Tindall. It seems a little strange that she decided to divorce just after a few weeks with you."

Harry nodded, "Exactly, which is why I don't want my identity bruited around the village. Most people would jump to entirely the wrong conclusion. The truth is that during her stay I discovered that her marriage with Robin really had broken down and the way he was treating her..." Harry reined himself back as he said with a deliberate effort at calm, "Well I wasn't a saint myself and didn't treat her well when we were married, but I drew the line at deliberate calculated blackmail to the point of abuse." See James start he hurriedly added, "Not physical, mental." With that misapprehension corrected he rushed to finish his exposition, "I persuaded her to let me help her with the divorce. That's all."

James had a distinct feeling that wasn't quite all but it had more or less satisfactorily filled in a few basic gaps. "From what I saw tonight you seemed to be well suited as a couple, so what really went wrong."

Harry almost groaned, "Various theories, including my being too young and too stupid to realise that you can't have your cake and eat it. Basically though other women and the job. Jane got really worried and wanted me to leave, give up, find another profession and I just wouldn't. I couldn't imagine doing anything else. In the end she couldn't take it."

James nodded sagely, "I can see the problem. For obvious reasons I'll make no comment about other women but as you will have realised I do understand about the job. You may well have been right not to compromise, if you'd have been working as square peg in the proverbial round hole."

After a pause during which James was trying to work out a tactful way of commenting on what he suspected was only half a story he stated quietly, "I am in no way criticising Jane or you. If there's one thing I've learnt as a clergyman it is that no one ever knows the truth of someone else's relationship." Moving further into the realm of light touch counselling James continued slowly and thoughtfully, "But have you ever asked yourself if you and Jane would have been any happier if you'd given into that pressure? How you might have reacted if you'd spent your life working in a post that made you miserable, always feeling that you should be doing something else. Wouldn't you have ended up resenting and blaming Jane for that?"

Such understanding was unusual in Harry's experience, during the early painful reverberations of his separation from Jane he'd frequently wondered if he should have succumbed to her blandishments. It was comforting to have his long ago decision affirmed, even if it was about three decades too late, although all he was prepared to admit to was, "I'm not exactly thrilled most days even doing the job I elected to do."

"Maybe not, everyone hates what they do at times. Vocation doesn't just apply to the clergy, it's simply is doing what you feel called to do, what you do best, perhaps whatever the cost, that is how you feel about MI5."

James suddenly broke off as he'd caught sight of Harry's face, the pain was palpable, "I'm sorry, but what..."

Any further discussion was halted by the sound of the front door bell. Heaving himself out of the chair James groaned, "I do hope this isn't about the church boiler or another row about the flaming flower rota."

When he returned he was accompanied by two policemen, and even more astonishingly Jane, making Harry ponder very briefly as to whether this was the fulfilment or the failure of a prayer. In a room full of men it was the lady, taking full unfair advantage of their manners who spoke first.

"Just as I thought, I bet neither of you called in Luke Willis."

If the police were confused Harry wasn't, as once again he patronised the ignorant, "The local doctor Sergeant, also a police surgeon for emergencies, lives three doors up, and Jane when we came in his house had no lights on, so I assumed he was out." Answering James' questioning look he almost smirked, "I didn't listen in vain to Mabel."

Jane forced his attention back to the nub of her argument. "Well he's home now, and with the black eye James is sporting and your recent shoulder injury you should both be checked out."

The male chorus of protest was given a very short shrift. "Sorry I wasn't under the impression that either of you are medically qualified. I'm not arguing with you all night so I'll go and knock on his door, I assume I can make it without being attacked since the thugs' accounts seemed to have been settled for now."

With that casually snide incautious reference to the dubious truth surrounding the events that had seen them foregathered in the Vicarage she'd escaped out the front door before anyone could protest, the draft of freezing air that insinuated itself into the warm living room indicating that she'd left it ajar. Harry and James just exchanged glances before Harry commented, "Well I don't suppose a medical report will come amiss will it?" This almost casual attitude to the official procedures leaving the much tried Sergeant struggling to be polite. Seething beneath the formality of his words he declined to answer the only half posed question "As you are aware Sir Harry this is very irregular. I have taken Mrs Townsend's statement, which supports your story." The entire intimation being that enough wool to make a chunky sweater had been pulled over his eyes as he concluded with, "And now if I can take yours and the Rev...Mr Endersley's before returning to the station." Staring around the room he asked tersely, "Do you have anywhere private where I and my constable can take your statements individually?"

Taking the opportunity to obviously ignore Harry, who whatever else he claimed to be was most certainly not the householder, this last statement was addressed to James. Totally unintimidated James rose from his chair with deliberate slowness, moved to the door and pointed out a room opposite, "I assume the study would be adequate."

"Very well, I'll see Sir Harry first. If you could come this way. Sir." The final Sir was almost spat out like an insult. Harry whose main motivation was to get the plods out of what remained of his hair ignored the provocation, "Of course. After you officer."

James' hadn't even had time to pick up the two abandoned coffee mugs with the intention of depositing them in the kitchen before the tramp of feet across the front door indicated the success of Jane's mission of mercy. Her entrance was followed in close order by that of an elderly bespectacled individual carrying the statuary doctor's bag, whose whole demeanour stated that he'd seen it all and could do without seeing it again. At the sight of the latter's expression James began to mentally arm himself in preparation for an interrogation far worse than the one he anticipated from the police. Luke's antipathy to evening callouts was notorious, not so much due to a misplaced sense of professional arrogance but rather to a quest for personal survival, "The village has expanded to around three thousand souls of whom about twenty percent are hypochondriacs, I'd be on call every night." James's first thought was Jane must have really spun a sob story to get him here, until Luke's opening words indicated that he hadn't needed much encouragement, betraying a very human desire to know a secret that for once wasn't confined to an intimate description of bowel movements.

"So I get to meet the mystery man who's earned Lottie's approval and according to Jane encouraged your thirst for fisticuffs. Really James I have enough with the flu and seasonal broken bones, you don't need to add to my work." Having surveyed the room he enquired about the main attraction responsible for levering him out of house and home. "And where is the stranger in our midst?"

Jane was also gazing around uncertainly, making James wave his hand, "Across the hallway giving a statement to the police."

If Luke was disappointed he made a tactful stab at concealment as he extracted a couple of instruments from his bag with the phrase, "I hate wasting time so let's get you checked out." Examining James battered features in more detail than a lover, "Hmm at least two punches in the face, let's see the back of your head." Fingers running over the lower part of James skull drew forth an agonising "Ow."

"Quite a lump developing, tell me did you lose consciousness at any point in these events?"

"I don't think so." Under a gimlet eye he faltered, "I was chucked against a headstone with quite a crack but I don't think..." he was saved further explanation by Harry's reappearing saying, "Your turn James. Just confirm what we told them earlier."

If Luke's eyebrows were raised at all at this utterance he disguised it by gazing into the depths of his capacious bag, waiting until the study door had snapped shut before commenting in a fierce whisper, "I'm old enough to know when a line is being spun, so just what do you need me to say?"

After an apprising glance and knowing he had no choice other than to trust Luke, in a very low hushed voice Harry outlined the events of the graveyard, causing Luke to groan resignedly, "Oh James. Personally I like the boy but I could cheerfully strangle that ex fiancé of his for stringing him along and then dumping him literally in this parish. He really ought to go back into the army."

Meanwhile Jane having listened to the sequel that had taken place after she'd fled the scene was wearing a worried frown. "But what happens when a translator produces the true story from the thugs. You might be able to avoid appearing in the dock but James won't. And he won't lie on oath either."

Leaving aside the not entirely inaccurate implication that he would happily commit perjury if necessary, Harry tried to reassure her. "He won't have to. All he'll have to say is that he hid behind the gravestone just in case he was wrong and someone was visiting the graves to place a Christmas wreath. I noticed some people had done so, making it believable that with a gun in his hand he wouldn't have wanted to alarm anyone there with good intent."

Jane was still looking dubious as Harry added, "It's quite likely that it won't come to court. I've offered to run some checks and if they are on the radar for worse crimes the Crown will probably go for those." While trusting that Jane had picked up the subliminal message 'I'll make sure of that' Harry was suddenly remembering that Luke was not aware of his true identity. As he'd prefer it stayed that way he backtracked verbally into his evening's legend adding smoothly, "In my capacity as a civil servant crime advisor."

Luke and Jane both seemed about to speak but were prevented by the door opening, indicating that the police had taken even less time with James than they had with Harry. With six of them all standing and cluttering up the now crowded sitting room, wearing the face of one who really had had enough for an evening the Sergeant almost snarled, "A word Doctor!"

Luke had more than one as he answered brusque and to the point, "I will submit a report stating that James here has substantial bruising and facial damage consistent with being assaulted, and also has defensive marks on his hands suggesting he was protecting himself. Sir Harry has further strained a shoulder that was subject to a dangerous amount of damage a few weeks ago, again consistent with trying to help and fend off attacks."

Out witted, outpointed, and pissed off the police departed for the night leaving behind them the complicit quartet frozen like statues as they waited for the sound of the police car to rev up and then squeal its way out of the village.

Luke was the first to speak, addressing Harry directly in a voice that made it plain he was standing for no nonsense and was no respecter of titles to boot. "Right recent shoulder injury so jacket, shirt and vest off please." Jane sensing Harry's unwillingness to strip in public, presumably in front of James, after all she'd nursed him while he recovered from his latest injury and seen all there was to see of Harry over the years - even when there had been considerably less of him to ogle at - suggested with a quiver of amusement, "If you've suddenly turned modest Harry perhaps Luke could use James' study."

Harry was about to protest until Luke reminded him, "I could always contract my statement, those officers would be delighted I'm sure." Combined with Jane's pithy, "Do you want me to ring Nat Reynolds?" he submitted, trekking back into the study as he wondered what Luke would make of his battered hide, and what story he could formulate to explain it away.

As a mental endeavour the effort was utterly wasted, since Luke, as he dumped his bag on the desk, bluntly informed Harry, "I'll sign the Act if you insist. Now let's get you checked out."

Harry, becoming alarmed at the speed with which his profession was being revealed, asked interrogatively as he removed his upper clothing. "Jane told you that I'm MI5."

"Yes, but before you bawl her out she was genuinely worried – after she explained about your brush with death a few weeks ago so was I." As Luke pulled a stethoscope from his bag he added sarcastically, "I have got to say after listening to your adventures of the evening I'm wondering exactly what lies the security services tell us on a daily basis."

Harry's reply wasn't exactly comforting "Fewer than the politicians I assure you."

Luke wasn't really paying close attention, instead he was now fully occupied surveying Harry's scarred skin with professional admiration as he remarked, "With that number of scars it's just as well she told me where the most recent injury was – Ah yes I see now, still a little raw. Lift your arm please."

Harry managed to do so without grimacing but wasn't so lucky when the next command came forth, "Now rotate please – yes I saw the wince. Sit down and let me feel." As Luke's surprisingly gentle fingers probed his shoulder and not meeting Harry's eyes he asked, "Are you planning to become a permanent fixture in Jane's life?"

"I really don't know." Harry wasn't sure if Jane would have mentioned he was her first ex and was determined not to volunteer the information. He'd withstood torture from implements infinitely far more vicious than anything Luke was likely to wield.

"Well just remember she had a bad time with Robin Tindall. In my opinion he's a self aggrandising twerp whom she is well rid of, and that is not breaking confidentially, I wasn't his doctor." Having expressed his views Luke snapped his bag shut, "Very well you can cover up now." With that he stalked from the room leaving Harry to pull his clothing back on. His identity had been well and truly rumbled, although on the bright side the two individuals who had done so were both employed in positions that required them to maintain some semblance of zipped lips. That they had also made it plain that they were regarding Harry as a welcome form of pest control when it came to ridding the village of Robin, was a welcome bonus.

While Luke was inflicting this pale shadow of the third degree upon Harry across the passageway James and Jane were having a not dissimilar conversation. Begun when James with a smile commented lightly, "So your past has just turned up for Christmas Jane, or is he your present."

"Truly I don't know James. It's difficult."

"Are you so sure, it seems fairly straightforward to me. After years of misunderstanding you've both discovered what you once had."

Jane shook her head wistfully, "I doubt we could revive that even if we wanted to – and he probably didn't mention that he was desperately in love with someone who died a few months ago, in tragic circumstances he blames himself for. He's not ready for another relationship and neither, to be honest, am I. Plus we're both a bit old to begin again anyway."

"So what is he doing here? Jane he might be your past but if he's here he's also very much part of your present. As for your last sentence I'd guess that you are both in your late fifties. Realistically with current life expectations neither of you are so old that you don't have a future." Taking a very deep breath indeed as he remembered his earlier comment to Harry about the difficulty of probing the relationships of other couples he added, "I'm not advocating that you rush into anything, but I am advising you to give yourselves time."

Jane was saved from the necessity of replying by the reappearance of Luke, followed by Harry still buttoning up his shirt and tieless. The appearance of Harry without his neck choker struck a chord with James, reaching his hand up to the neckline of his own shirt he pulled the strip of white enclosing his throat out of the side slots holding it in place and threw it onto the coffee table. Harry squinted at it with interest, as a dog collar it didn't quite correct, not long enough and a little tatty at the edges complete with a strange sheen. James followed his eyes,

"Vicar's emergency tip. I told you it was a substitute, PVC plastic cup cut up, does the job in emergencies."

"I'll never see a dog collar in the same light again."

Luke was tired and having slaked his curiosity brought them to attention as he interjected. "Right you asked for my professional opinion. James I'm taking you to A&E. I want an X ray on the bump, we can't risk our vicar keeling over at midnight mass. Harry I'd advise no driving tonight. The shoulder hasn't sustained any damage but I'd rest it overnight."

Jane laughed, "Your turn to sample my spare room Harry – and don't argue. I know you always keep an emergency overnight bag in your car."

Given the time versus distance versus his own exhausted state Harry hadn't been about to dispute Luke's prescription of rest. Not willing to admit to a vulnerability he picked up on her last word to enquire, "Which is where at present?"

"In my drive, so you have to come back with me. Don't worry Emma has drawn her curtains at long last. She saw me leaving with the police so by now has probably informed the entire village that I'm under arrest."

Harry turned to take polite leave of James, "Thanks, I hope no lasting damage to either you or the church."

James replied gloomily "I'll probably have to contact the insurers tomorrow. I foresee an interview with the bishop in the New Year when he informs me that my violent tendencies make me unsuited for ministry and invites me to resign. Just as well I have freehold or I'd be out on my ear. As it is he may threaten to withdraw my licence."

Ferreting in his coat pocket Harry handed out the second card of the evening, "If his Bishopric gives you any problems contact me. I'll tell him where to stuff his mitre. If he refuses I can safely promise you that he'll end up with far greater scandals to deal with than a pre Christmas spat in a country churchyard."

Before James could debate with his defender the ethical dilemma that Harry's well meant offer presented him with ,- the one that made James ask himself whether it was morally acceptable to save his own skin at the price of someone else's especially since he was actually guilty as he would undoubtedly have been charged had it not been for Harry's rank pulling intervention - Harry and Jane were gone, leaving James and Luke alone staring at one another questioningly.

It was Luke who spoke first, "I don't normally interfere but Mabel mentioned to me in the Hall that Jane seemed really pleased to see him. I knew he was her ex the minute I saw him – Jane's son is his spitting image."

That was one piece of gossip that hadn't been poured into James ears from his usual source: Mabel. "I wasn't aware Graham had visited!"

"A very quick call. Came on a motor bike and asked directions. When I looked suspiciously at his Hell's Angel style leathers he explained his business. It was the afternoon Mabel always goes to have her hair set otherwise she'd have known who Harry was. Anyway she was very taken with him, said he seemed to be a real gentleman. Even more surprisingly Lottie agreed and you know how difficult she can be."

"Neither of them are bad judges of character despite one being a bit authoritarian and the other a chatterbox. Regarding the pair who've just left all I can say is that while they both have a huge amount of past baggage to resolve they are fooling themselves if they think all they feel for one another is friendship. They just haven't realised it yet or are – to use the popular phrase - in denial. "

Luke for the first time since his arrival sounded a touch anxious. "Do you my getting think that getting Harry to stay overnight with Jane will give them the shove they need? Honest opinion minus clerical morals please."

James pondered for about two seconds before giving his considered opinion "Well we can only pray for them," His addendum descended to a less elevated, albeit more practical plane, "And also that Emma Winnick keeps her curtains closed, since she certainly won't do the same with her mouth."

Thanks for reading and if you have time a review would be nice.