Oh, well.
9
Archer
‘Areyou going to be okay in here?’
As we approach the open doors to the ancient looking church, Heather hooks her thumb as she sends me an impish grin.
‘The church? Are you asking if I’ll burst into flames as I step over the threshold? I’m hurt,’ I say, bringing our still linked hands to my chest. Yes, I have her hand in mine again and I’ve refused to relinquish her tiny paw, for three reasons.
It’s my good deed for the day, a sort of aversion therapy, though I’m not sure if she has an aversion to me or being close to people in general.
Also for appearances; no one will believe we’re dating when it’s obvious she finds it difficult to have me near.Although she did just touch my tie. Maybe she’s a magpie for silky materials.
And because I find I don’t want to let her go. Because I have to get my kicks somewhere.
‘I’m almost certain I’ll be fine,’ I add as we climb the three ancient and worn stone steps. ‘Though it has been a while. But even the devil was an angel once, you know.’
We enter the cool interior of the ancient chapel, the familiar smell of dust, old books, flowers, and lingering incense like a sensory memory. My mother didn’t take me to church, but I was fostered once by a family who enrolled me in Cub Scouts. Every week we met in the church hall, and I enjoyed it while it lasted, though I was pretty upset when I was returned to dear old mama because I didn’t get to receive the badges I’d been working towards.
The pews are decorated with ribbons and flowers, and already half full of congregants wearing hats and caps and feathered headbands. As we make our way into the nave, the organist plays Christina Perri’sA Thousand Years,which hopefully won’t last as long as all that. The sun streams through stained glass iconography above us, showering the chancel in a flood of jewelled-coloured light.
‘People have really embraced the theme.’
Heather shivers as I whisper this in her ear, her response adorably breathy and stuttering.
‘P-people like to dress up.’
‘Hmm. What a shame it’s a bit too cool in here for a just a loincloth. Except for my man JC over there.’ Hamming it up, I thump my chest twice and throw in a peace sign.
‘Did you just peace out Jesus?’
‘Shush. Get in there.’ I gesture for us to sit in the nearest pew.
‘We need to be on the left side. For the bride,’ she murmurs, tugging me to the opposite side of the aisle and into the very last pew.
‘Look, there’s the fat controller,’ I murmur as we take our seats.
‘What?’ Her reply gurgles with laughter, drawing attention of the people in front. ‘Stop making me laugh in the house of God,’ she censures primly, reaching for the prettily printed Order of Service. As she leans back, she doesn’t notice how I’ve rested my arm on the back of the pew, so I slide my thumb into the gap between the end of the zipper and the clasp of her dress. She shivers just like she did in the hotel room when I’d tickled her with the feather sex toy. Why did I do it? The thing with the feather? Because I could. And because I thought she’d turn and realise what I had in my hand, maybe even notice the cock ring and vibe on the chest on the other side of the room. I wanted to goad her, and I wanted to watch her turn deliciously pink, the colour that makes me wonder how far down it runs.
I wanted her to shiver under my hands, and now that she has, now that I’m familiar with her sharp intake of breath and have watched her try to stifle her body rippling with pleasure, it’s all I can think about.
‘Who’s the fat controller, anyway?’ Heather cranes her head, looking past the array of balding pates and silly headwear.
‘Lambeth. You must’ve heard him be called that?’
‘I have not,’ she answers without glancing my way.
‘I gather it’s because of his similarities to Sir Topham Hatt. Probably the avuncular patois and taste in sober suits, the matching vests, you know?’
‘I’m aware of the character and of the show. My younger brother was a fan when he was small.’
‘A younger brother? Check you out, offering up your secrets like a handful of loose change.’
My teasing earns me a stabby look and a badly veiled warning.
‘I also have three older ones.’Fuck with me, fuck with my family?How cute. ‘And something you probably don’t know,’ she adds in a rush, ‘is that I have a side gig running children’s parties.’
