Accidentally proving her point, she flung her arm out as she was about to speak and knocked her glass of Shloer all over the picnic rug.
‘You see what I mean.’
They laughed together as they both gathered tissues to clear up the mess, their hands meeting.
Tom’s eyes looked deep into Clara’s and despite the pile of napkins in their hands, he leaned over to kiss her. Clara moved to get closer, finding herself on a wet patch on the blanket.
‘Oh no, I’ve got a soggy bottom.’
‘You sound like someone fromGreat British Bake Off,’ joked Tom.
‘Well, I’ll have you know that plenty of people have suggested I go on there and do my famous Victoria sponge.’
‘You should. You’d be perfect for it. You’ve got winner written all over you.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever won anything. Clara Bennett isn’t a winner in life; that’s for sure.’
‘You’re a winner to me.’
Tom leaned over to kiss Clara and, as they rolled onto the picnic rug and kissed, she didn’t care what mess the picnic blanket was in because all she wanted was to enjoy this feeling. Clara could hardly bear to tear herself away from him, but there was one last thing she needed to tell him. She held his face in her hands and looked at him. ‘Time for my confession.’
Tom looked at her, worried for a moment. ‘Go on.’
‘I love you, Tom Hartley.’
She said it quietly at first. Then she moved her face away from his and shouted it again for the whole world to hear.
‘And I love you, Reverend Clara Bennett,’ shouted Tom, even louder.
Then the gentle sound of the birds in the trees and the rustling of a rabbit hiding in the hedge faded away as Clara and Tom passionately kissed each other on the picnic blanket, where they felt like the only two people in the universe.
ChapterThirty-Six
Worried parents were starting to drop off their young adults and Clara felt the usual joy as she witnessed new students starting to pour into the lodges of the colleges and the young people who were already established moving up and heading into their final year. It could be safely said that it was one of her favourite times of year.
Usually, at this time, she would be making plans with Professor Binton for student evenings so they could familiarise themselves with how she could help them. Some years she had put on a quiz or a movie night, and had even brought them along some of her delicious chilli con carne, not only to prove how approachable she was but to ensure they had a good meal inside them too. She would then tell everyone how welcome they were, whether or not they followed religion. Clara wanted to be a listening ear and a friendly face for those who might be encountering their first time away from home, and encouraged them to confide in her if they were ever in trouble. She knew how the students often got the fifth-week blues and that’s when she would plan the events to try and cheer them up. Only this year, she would be gone by the fifth week.
Instead of warmly welcoming everyone, she was wrapping things up. She wouldn’t see how the final-year students got on and would miss their graduation. Of course, when she was feeling positive, she reminded herself that she would get to meet wonderful new students, but still, something in the pit of her stomach didn’t feel right. Leaving the life that she had built in Oxford seemed ridiculous when she had never felt happier.
It was too late to back out though, since Lawrence was now interviewing for Clara’s replacement. Even if she wanted to stay, she couldn’t. Clara could tell that Lawrence was particularly enamoured by one of the candidates. Stephen had previously worked at Canterbury Cathedral and came with glowing references. Lawrence had interviewed three potential replacements before Stephen, and Clara hadn’t seen any of them. It seemed Stephen’s interview was different, and Clara was even asked if she would pop in and have a chat with him.
‘Clara, I’d like you to meet Stephen. I thought it might be nice for you to have a talk with him. Tell him about the job you do.’
Stephen smiled at her enthusiastically, but all Clara could feel was a pang of jealousy. The emotion surprised her. She was voluntarily leaving to go to bigger and better things in the form of a promotion supposedly, yet here she was looking at Stephen with envy. In a few weeks’ time, he could potentially be doing the job she loved in the church she adored. He would get to know all her favourite members of the congregation and she would be a former employee.
Clara tried to sound joyful as she told Stephen about all the wonderful things she did each day but it was difficult watching him act so positive, so hopeful he would get her position.
Lawrence invited Stephen to stay for the evening’s service so that he could get a further idea of what would be in store. He may as well have offered him the job on the spot, thought Clara.
It was a big night for the church as everyone gathered for Clara’s penultimate service at Oxford. Sometimes, Clara cheated when she put her cassock on and managed to squeeze into it by only undoing some of the buttons. Tonight though, she wanted to make sure she buttoned up each and every one of the thirty-nine buttons and said her prayers. She also added in an extra prayer before entering her beloved chapel for one of the last times.
‘Please, God, let me make the right decision. Why do I feel like I’m making a mistake? Lord, please help me.’
She raised her head up high and sighed. It was too late to back out.
She felt that familiar nervousness as she walked down the aisle and prepared to take centre stage. She was more apprehensive than usual this time and it wasn’t because her time was coming to an end, or due to Stephen watching her, nor the students who had arrived early for term. It was Tom’s return to church and he had confided in her how worried he was about the response to him coming back. He was concerned that people would think he had left the choir in the lurch and behaved irrationally. However, he had nothing to worry about following his sudden hiatus and Tom was overwhelmed by the welcome he was greeted with. In fact, he couldn’t ever remember feeling like he belonged somewhere more. He regretted that he had let the choir down, but remembered the work he had done on himself. It wasn’t a time to have regrets but instead embrace the good times.
The congregation members and fellow choristers were thrilled to see him back. They missed that beautiful voice of his and fortunately didn’t ask any questions about where he had been.
