‘So, I guess you stay in touch with friends and family the old-fashioned way: by phone.’
‘Oh, I don’t really have much family. They’ve mostly died.’
‘I’m sorry. Both my parents have passed on. That’s the problem at this age. It’s sad but life goes on. Until we see them again in the afterlife.’
‘Yes, absolutely.’
She wanted to lighten the conversation and quickly changed the subject.
‘So, you told me you like Def Leppard and you had a mullet. I bet there are other things too. You have to tell me about all the skeletons in your closet.’ Clara laughed. She couldn’t wait to hear what other mistakes he’d made during the Eighties. A perm was the worst thing she had done, which she surmised was probably as bad as a mullet.
‘Umm, skeletons?’
While he sensed Clara’s jovial tone, it made Tom nervous. Just as he thought he’d worked out how to steer the conversation his way, he was squirming once again. He wondered whether he should make his excuses and leave before he said anything he might regret. He knew getting close to someone would have its risks. It was just that Clara seemed like a risk he couldn’t resist taking. In spite of his fears, he decided that he didn’t want to leave yet and knew that it was high time he stopped running away from his problems.
‘There really isn’t much to tell. Nope. I’m truly very boring.’
‘You don’t get to our ages without some sort of story. I’m sure you’re far from boring, Tom. You’re fun and love good music for a start. I bet you at least owned a shell suit.’
Tom raised a smile and Clara waited for him to say something funny, but he shrugged his shoulders.
‘No, thankfully that’s one thing I didn’t own. No, there really is nothing exciting at all. You really don’t want to hear my story.’ Tom leaned down to grab the bottle of water he had brought with him and took an almighty glug from it.
‘Please do tell. I would love to hear your story,’ repeated Clara.
Tom averted his eyes, instead watching a punt heading west down the river beside them. Clara noticed how he had drifted off again; it was as though he was in some kind of daydream.
‘No, seriously, there really is nothing to tell.’
Clara sensed his hesitation. She had seen this sort of response plenty of times at church to know when to stop probing but, usually, given time, people started to open up.
Yes, he just needed time, she thought to herself.
ChapterFour
Later that evening, as Clara perfected the placement of her clerical collar, clipping it into place as she got dressed for the evening’s Compline, she couldn’t get her date with Tom out of her head. She wondered if he would be at chapel and hoped she hadn’t scared him away with all her questions. The date had ended politely enough but there was something about the way he seemed uncomfortable when she pressed him for answers about his past. It concerned her and she promised herself that if she was to have another date with him she wouldn’t push him again. It was clear that if he wanted to tell her about his past, he would. She decided that not everyone nervously overshared their life story, like she sometimes could.
* * *
Only Tom knew why he didn’t want to talk about it and, after the date that he enjoyed so much, he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he adored Clara’s company. How he wished he could confide in her. She was a woman of the church and preached forgiveness after all, but he didn’t dare mess this up. It was far too early, and he feared that if she knew the truth, she might want nothing more to do with him. Tom was torn. He knew he should be straight with Clara from the very beginning but if he could only get her to fall in love with him first, then there might be more of a chance that she wouldn’t run.
The church filled for Compline, and Tom took his place on a pew. Even though he had only just said goodbye to Clara that afternoon, he was determined not to miss the chance of seeing her again.
His eyes were fixed on her as she stood amid the candlelight and checked over the papers in front of her. It was the first time he had ever been so attracted to someone doing mundane things. It wasn’t even her unassuming beauty under the ambient lighting, but more the allure of her magnetic aura that made him drawn to everything about her. The collection of freckles that ran in an almost perfect line across her snub nose just added to her appeal. It felt so different to when he met his former wife, Diana, at a music festival. That felt like a lifetime ago when he was a completely different person. It was before he became the broken version of himself.
Tom paid his full attention as Clara commenced the service. The irony wasn’t lost on him as she started with her usual preparation for worship by asking the congregation to confess their sins and receive forgiveness in the Absolution.
‘Let us humbly confess our sins to Almighty God,’ she said gently.
Whilst there were many members in the congregation confessing their sins, nobody was more eager to do this than Tom. He started to see this as a sign that this could be the green light and an indication from God that he could confide in Clara when the time was right and that she would understand. It was at this moment he decided to ask Clara for their next date. He desperately wanted to make plans at the café earlier, but got flummoxed with all the questioning.
With Tom watching Clara and listening to her melodious voice, he decided he was going to give this potential relationship his best shot. An idea sprang to mind and he knew the perfect place for their second date, somewhere they could be away from eavesdroppers and he could be a little more open with her. He felt that telling her snippets about his life might even help relieve him of the guilt he carried around every day. Tom was so excited at the thought that when he sung the first canticle of ‘Magnificat’ his voice filled the air, carrying the music across the chapel. He was overcome with hope and joy again, just like the moment when Clara agreed to go on their first date. There was something about being in the chapel and listening to Clara’s dulcet tones that gave him courage. Momentarily he found peace. The only problem was that when he left, those negative feelings that he often suffered from returned.
As Clara ended Compline by asking for God’s blessing for the week ahead, Tom felt ready to approach her. The worshippers congregated near the chapel doors, catching up with each other, and Tom searched for Clara’s physique among them. When people jostled to catch Clara before she left, he was reminded of how popular she was. He pushed a wave of self-doubt away as he appreciated how much everyone loved her and how, conversely, he had been shunned by many who had known him.
He told the voice in his head to be quiet. He was no longer that person. These new people liked him. Brian approached Tom, proving this theory, and asked how he was before proceeding to tell him about his daughter’s forthcoming visit. When Brian left to speak to others in the congregation, he spotted Professor Binton, who nodded politely at him. Tom didn’t know him well, but decided he should become more acquainted with people if he was to be sticking around, so he approached him to ask what he thought of the England cricket match.
‘I’m more of a Wimbledon fan, myself,’ said Professor Binton.
