‘Do you remember how I deal with scam calls?’ Ruth asks Jo.
‘Oh, definitely,’ she replies.
‘Well, imagine that multiplied by ten. I talked about theology, about my doubts about the scriptures. I went on for hours discussing the minutiae of faith and my way back to the Lord.’ Ruth laughs. ‘Of course, no one wanted to write about that, so I am pretty certain the story is dead in the water,’ Ruth declares with satisfaction.
Jo can hear the sizzle of the candle flame against the deep silence of fallen snow.
‘So that,’ Ruth concludes, ‘is pretty much it.’
Jo relaxes back on the bench. So that was Reverend Ruth’s secret. But is that the end of Ruth’s tale? She feels there must be more. ‘So what next?’ she asks.
‘I’m going to a new parish.’
Jo can’t help thinking of Angela, of all those people on the message board. Everyone would be so disappointed.
‘I did think about going back,’ Ruth says, as if reading Jo’s thoughts, ‘but in the end the bishop put his foot down and reminded me I was only human.’
‘Quite right,’ Malcolm says, kicking at the snow with the toe of his boot. ‘No need to have to deal with the likes of Colin Will-kill-soon any more.’
‘Oh, I think the bishop has put a stop to his gallop.’ Jo can tell from her voice that Ruth is pleased. ‘You can only serve for six years as a churchwarden unless you get a suspension to this rule. Colin was trying to organize that, but a phone call here, a glass of sherry there and … well, let’s just say, the bishop will be first in line to thank him profusely for his services when he has to step down.’
Malcolm chuckles over this, then says, thoughtfully, ‘There is one thing, Ruth, I have been meaning to ask you. You once told us there were two things you tried to live your life by. I appreciate one was the – do unto others – but I just wondered what the second was?’
‘Oh, must we, Malcolm?’ Ruth says, shaking her head.
‘I’d like to hear it too, Ruth, if you don’t mind,’ Jo says.
‘Oh, all right. But I know what you’re going to say, Malcolm. The second thing is, to love God,’ Ruth carries on quickly, ‘and before you start on me, Malcolm, I know it sounds obvious, but I don’t think of it like you might suppose. To me it is about humility. Just acknowledging and reminding myself that there is something else that is much more important than I am. For me, it’s the Christian God, but for others it could be Allah, or Buddha – whatever it is that reminds you that you don’t have every answer, and you’re not the be-all and end-all.’
‘No, I understand that,’ Malcolm says, softly.
‘But where are you going?’ Jo wants to know, ‘where’s your new parish?’
‘Richmond.’
‘A very pleasant place,’ Malcolm says. ‘It is lovely there by the Thames in summer.’
‘No, not Richmond in Surrey,’ Ruth says, with a chuckle. ‘Richmond in Yorkshire.’
‘You’re kidding!’ Jo exclaims. ‘Oh Ruth, that’s amazing.’ She thinks of Uncle Wilbur. Perhaps he had been right after all when he said the Runaway Vicar needed to find her place. (A place for everything and everything in its place.)
‘Well, you rather sold the idea of the North-East to me,’ Ruth declares, ‘so I wanted a new start and I thought I would give it a go.’
‘You’ll love it. And I’ll have you nearby … ish.’
‘Really?’ Ruth says, the word pregnant with questions.
Malcolm lets out a slow. ‘Aah.’ This, however, is filled with sadness.
Jo turns to him. ‘What about you, Malcolm?’
‘Well, I have rather taken up Reverend Ruth’s advice. Highgate Cemetery is very well supported but I find that there are many other cemeteries that are under threat from the developers. I have joined a Save our Souls campaign. For me, it is as much about saving the wildlife habitats as preserving history. I have even bought some handcuffs in case I need to attach myself to any railings,’ he adds, cheerfully.
‘I expect there are many such graveyards that need saving in Yorkshire,’ Ruth suggests, innocently.
Malcolm sits completely still for several moments.
‘And you think …’ he muses.
