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The Vicar

123

Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for unnatural ones; in the same way, men committed shameful acts with other men and received in themselves the due penalty for their error. Romans 1:26-27

It was a verse she'd heard many times although Janine thought it one of those skating on thin ice verses. She never used it in any sermon, for fear of offending any gay people. Nevertheless, it came back to her in that moment as she washed her hands and contemplated herself in the mirror. Her dog collar was lying on the couch and the top three buttons of her blouse were undone. Her shoulder length brown hair was somewhat messed up but they were the outer signs of her encounter with Katie. Her heart was still racing and her mouth felt dry. How long since she'd felt this?

Too long, she thought and for years she'd gone along in a blissful kind of ignorance. It wasn't as if she didn't have offers but they were few and far in between. The men who wanted her weren't exactly the cream of the crop. The vast majority were widowers or middle aged farmers, who saw the buxom thirty three year old vicar as a worthy trophy and Janine had too much self respect to become a mere trophy wife. So how was it she'd let a woman practically seduce her? These things didn't just happen and as she dried her hands she went back over the last few weeks to pinpoint when she'd crossed the line.

Kate Goldsmith was a young woman from London whose mother had just died. She'd first met her at the vicarage to discuss the upcoming funeral. Kate seemed a little distant and she felt as if she was talking into an echo chamber, the woman merely nodded at and agreed with everything but when Janine asked if she'd like to say a few words she blanched.

"Perhaps not," she slid a hand beneath the white blouse, "I think it's best to let you and her friends handle the service."

"Of course," she shifted her position, "if you change your mind?"

"I won't," she flicked at her long blonde hair, "I know it sounds strange, we usually want to say goodbye but I said my goodbyes to mum a long time ago. We only really got back into contact again when she got sick, the prospect of death changes most people."

Janine contemplated her next question carefully before speaking.

"If you feel like talking about it, I could make time. Sometimes it helps to open up to a stranger," she looked past her for a moment.

"There's not much to tell," she leaned back in the leather recliner, "she rejected my lifestyle in university and if she'd had any other children I know she would have cut me out of the family altogether but I was an only child."

"Your lifestyle?" Janine ran a cursory glance over the grey skirt suit and white blouse, "what kind of lifestyle are we talking about? You're not a contract killer for the government are you?"

"No, nothing like that," she smiled, "I'm gay."

"Oh," she pushed her glasses up her nose, "well it's not a crime, I had a few gay parishioners back in North London and I never treated them any differently."

"Good to know," she leaned on her palm, "how times have changed, I live in Camden."

"I was in Barnsbury, we were practically neighbours."

"I guess so," her blue eyes softened, "not that I'm much of a churchgoer, sorry."

"Don't be," she patted her hand, "I'd be a terrible lesbian as well."

She laughed at that and as she farewelled her, Janine had the strangest feeling she'd made a friend although there were precious few clues. She was polite, well mannered and interested enough in the subject at hand but her body language spoke of a woman who was used to sitting in meetings listening to people waffle on.

However the name Kate Goldsmith popped up on The Independent website that night and curious, she clicked on the story to find herself looking at a picture of Kate outside the Supreme Court in London. She was wearing a barrister's gown and wig. The story was just a brief one on the death of her mother and her intention to attend the funeral. She was just about to leave a comment when she happened to read the hateful and spiteful comment from a previous visitor. It was shocking that such people existed, this person wanted to see her thrown into the grave as well. It was just one of over two dozen similar comments ranging from death wishes to outright mockery. She declined to leave her own comment but that got her curious and thus she googled the name Kate Goldsmith and was shocked at the thousands of hits that came back.

Top Human Rights Lawyer Banned in Israel. It was also from The Independent and showed Kate with a Palestinian man. She'd successfully prevented the U.K government from prohibiting him entering the U.K to promote B.D.S. The government was appealing the ruling but it looked as if their appeal would falter. The Israeli government had slapped a ten year ban on her entering the country. Israel was just one of several countries that had banned her, Egypt and Uzbekistan had also banned her. An Egyptian court was currently trying her in absentia for terrorism. However it seemed Kate Goldsmith had become something of a heroine to oppressed people all over the world. There were blog posts lauding her achievements in defending human rights, appeals sponsored by her to raise money for women and girl's education, at least one Facebook page was dedicated to news about Kate and then there was her own Facebook page. She spent the better part of the night going through the posts, they went back several years and it seemed she'd been all over the world. She contemplated sending a friend request but decided instead to like a few posts before retiring to bed. It seemed unbelievable that the late Edna had refused to allow her only child to have any input into her funeral. She'd been quite firm on that matter, leaving everything up to her friends and fellow churchgoers.

Kate was wearing a black satin, pussybow blouse and black skirt the next day and looked very elegant, she'd certainly attracted the attention of several eligible bachelors and seemed to acknowledge their smiles and greetings with politeness.

The funeral itself was what she sarcastically called, the standard dispatch. Despite frequent contact with Edna she never knew her. Edna was a regular but not receptive to a female vicar. After the grave side prayer an hour or so later she found herself talking to Kate whilst the mourners chatted amongst themselves.

"It was a nice funeral," Kate stared at the hole in the ground, "if there is such a thing."

"Thank you, I wish I could have added some of your words."

"A nice touch perhaps but totally inappropriate," she grimaced, "it would probably have brought her back from the dead just to object."

Janine opened her mouth to say something and then changed her mind. It wasn't so much what she said but the way she said it, almost off handed and casual.

"I have to catch up with some old friends," she smiled tightly, "but perhaps you could come around tomorrow, say around eleven? She has some things she wanted to pass onto you."

"To me?"

"Uh huh," Kate held out her hand, "thank you for taking the service."

"It was an honour," she swallowed the hurt.

That night she returned to the computer to do some more reading on Kate and found herself getting drawn into her. She'd lived a remarkable life. She was thirty years old and yet she'd already had a huge impact on human rights worldwide. It was with some hesitation that she eventually sent out a friend request and followed her Twitter feed.

As she prepared for bed sometime after midnight she was disturbed by a notification on her phone from Facebook.

Kate Goldsmith has accepted your friend request and a few seconds later there was another notification from Facebook Messenger. Kate has invited you to join Messenger.

"In for a penny," she accepted it and kept unbuttoning her blouse.

Kate: Thanks for your kind words this morning, looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.

Janine: Thanks, I've just been reading up on you, banned in three countries?

Kate: Perils of speaking truth to power I'm afraid, at least crucifixion is illegal!

Janine: I was amazed, still am. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow/today.

Kate: Me too, well got to go. Hard to undress and text at the same time.

Janine: Tell me about it, so much for multi-tasking!

Nevertheless, the conversation continued for the better part of an hour before they finally signed off after putting the meeting forward until eleven o'clock.

Katie: I need my beauty sleep, sleep tight and don't forget to pat your pussy.

Janine: LOL. I'll take that under advisement!

Janine removed her glasses and started cleaning them methodically. Had it started then? The remark was lewd but no worse than she'd experienced previously. She'd made a point of being a down to earth vicar, open to everyone even those who might inadvertently offend her but she did feel a little uneasy as she knocked at the door of Edna's cottage. The door was opened a few moments later. Katie was wearing a white shirt and black jeans that looked as if she'd been poured into them and forgot to say stop. It was because she was on the bottom step and level with her breasts that she suddenly noticed they were quite large. Either that or she was wearing a push up bra, she could clearly see the imprint through the material.

"Come in," she took a step back.

"I don't think I've ever been this far inside before," she looked at the pictures on the wall and picked out several of a much younger Kate, which seemed to be in chronological order. The father had left when Kate was around five or so it seemed because there were no pictures of him after then. There were three more pictures of a prepubescent girl and then two of the school girl and finally one of Kate in a graduation gown. Edna was beside her but the smile seemed forced in contrast to Kate's happy smile.

"She wanted me to become a vicar," Kate murmured, "but when she discovered my sexual orientation all that changed. She never totally rejected me but she refused to meet any of my friends or partners. Any time I spent with her was like extracting blood from a stone, I had to treat the entire visit like a session with a client. There were certain things that must not be discussed and I could only come to stay at certain times of the year. Towards the end I just gave up and we drifted apart until she was diagnosed with cancer," she inclined her head in the direction of the kitchen.

"The prospect of death changes everyone and she softened her outlook and somewhat grudgingly accepted that perhaps I was better off with women anyway," she led her into the kitchen.

"She left me the house and a detailed list of who was to get her personal possessions," she nodded at a small bag of clothes, "these are for you."

"Oh," Janine adjusted her glasses, "I see."

"My mother was very organised," she untied the bag, "everything was itemised, she even left me clothes as well but they're going straight to the charity shop. I don't do polka dot dresses unless it's a costume party and there's plenty of alcohol."

"Me neither," Janine took out a blouse, "very eighties, and elegant. I never thought she liked me to be honest."

"I know about that," she smirked, "but if it's any comfort she thought you were one of the better vicars although she was worried that you weren't married yet."

"Hence the fancy clothes," she took out another blouse and then a dress, "they are nice."

"And all yours," she replied, "if there's anything you don't want just take it to the charity shop, I won't be offended."

"I'll look through them," she promised, "now I have to find somewhere to wear them."

"As long as you get some use out of them," Kate glanced at the kettle, "would you like a tea or coffee?"

"Um, coffee would be nice, it's odd though that she would leave these to me."

Kate flicked the button on the kettle, "mum always did things for a reason no matter how insane or illogical. She could pursue an idea even in the face of incontrovertible evidence and then suddenly shut down and go into a sulk for weeks and even months."

"So what do you think you'll do with the place?"

"I'm in two minds, this place would be nice as a weekend retreat, but then again I might just donate the house to a refugee family."

"That sounds like a good idea," Janine ventured, "do you know of any?"

"I know a few in my line of work," she smiled.

"I guess you would," she returned the smile, "so how is it being a human rights lawyer? I've read so much about you over the last two nights."

"Ah the glorious internet," she chuckled, "I've stalked a lot of people that way, it's amazing how much of our lives is online, which is why I have two phones. My normal phone and an encrypted phone for work, I was shocked at how much information our government had on me, you'd think I was planning a terrorist attack, but it has it's rewards. In my line of work if you get banned from entering a country it counts as a bonus, it means you've had an impact," she propped on the palm of her hand.

"I've been talking about taking a six week sabbatical to take stock. The senior partners want me to move into a mentoring role," she cracked a wry gin.

"Or as they put it, they don't want me to make the evening news for all the wrong reasons, I've made enemies of some powerful people and I've got at least one contract on my head."

"Tell me more," Janine put her glasses back on.

"About?"

"Your work," she blushed.

Thus a half hour visit stretched out into a two and a half hour session. Initially Kate was a little reticent talking about her work but as Janine pushed and probed she lightened up until by the end she was telling more light hearted tales of her travels. It was with a sense of reluctance that Janine eventually decided to leave but not without extracting a promise.

"Well not exactly a promise, it's something to consider," she started cleaning her glasses, "we've got a charity group who meet in the church hall once a week. They've been raising money for refugees and women's education programs but how do I put this? Sometimes they seem a little out of touch but they certainly mean well. Perhaps if you could come down and give a talk on your work and add a little colour as they say, it might spur them onto put more imagination into their fund raising activities. Flower stalls are pretty much the standard fare."

"I see," Kate pursed her lips, "and you want me to put some lead in their pencil?"

"Something like that."

"Who's in this group?"

Janine reeled off a dozen names and Kate smiled crookedly.

"I know most of them, I thought old Bob was dead but he was as fit as a fiddle at the funeral," she looked past her for a moment.

"If you send me details of their most recent work I'll see what I can do to bring some colour to the room but it can't be until after next week. I'm due back in London tomorrow and I've got a full week at the office before I can take a break."

"That'd be great if you could do it."

"It's funny in a way," she leaned on the table, "mum always said she'd die before she saw me enter a church hall. Now here I am agreeing to step into a church hall and she's six foot under."

"And if you want to talk about that feel free, any time and I don't charge by the hour," she patted her wrist lightly.

"Of course," Kate smiled and looked down, "I know the script."

Janine stared at her reflection the mirror. Had that been the moment when she first felt drawn to Kate? She wasn't thinking of the pat on the wrist, it was more the fact she'd stayed so long talking to the woman. Kate was a few years younger than her but her world experience had made her far older in many ways. She spoke four languages fluently and could converse in four others.

It was probably about then she first started to recognise the familiar signs of emotional attachment. When she was younger she would wait for a phone call from a boy, now she was checking her Facebook page to see if Kate had liked one of her posts or favorited a tweet. She looked forward to eight o'clock when her household duties had been finished, the dishes washed and instead of watching television she sat glued to her laptop. It wasn't just Kate's social media she was following, she started interacting with other friends on social media or surfing the net and somewhere in that two weeks Kate became Katie.

Thus, by the time Katie finally arrived back in the village she felt as if she'd entered a new phase of her life. It was hard to keep the smile from her face and while the locals liked a smiling vicar, she was conscious that everything had to look normal. Thus, she avoided the urge to just drop in for the first two days but then she ran into Katie at the local pub and made an excuse about being too busy.

"But I'm free tomorrow."

"I'll be out tomorrow," Katie sipped her beer, "but I'm home at night."

"Great."

"Okay then," Katie eyed her curiously, "you've lost weight."

"I have?"

"Yeah, I don't know your secret but I'd love to shift a few kilos."

"I don't have any secrets, just good home cooking."

It was one of those throwaway lines she instantly regretted but Katie didn't seem to react negatively to it.

"I'm sorry I haven't called you these last couple of days I've been spring cleaning the house, I've had a change of heart about the place."

"Oh?" Janine stroked her throat, "what kind of change?"

"Initially I wanted to just sell it and be done with it but I decided to keep it as a weekend home, I may rent it out if I'm going to be away for six months or more but it's close enough to London and let's be honest a lot of my work is done online these days. I also decided to take six weeks off work with the option of a further six if I feel like it."

"So you'll be around here for six weeks?"

"Most of the time, maybe a few trips to Dunstable," she kicked her under the table gently, "so, you're stuck with me I'm afraid."

"How will I cope?"

How indeed would she cope? It had become obvious to her that she'd developed an attraction to an openly gay woman, although Katie didn't wear her sexuality on her sleeve. In fact you would never know unless she outed herself and Katie was too worldly wise to go down that route.

"When I was younger it was different, I marched in Gay Pride parades and went to the festivals but in my mid twenties I looked around and realised I was getting older and everyone else was definitely younger. I was caught between them and the old desperadoes looking for any action and I just stopped going."

"So you grew out of it."

"More or less, although about then I was doing a lot more travelling and just didn't have the time or the energy to devote to the out and proud set. I know what I am and I'm comfortable with it but I don't want to associate with gay people all the bloody time, it limits your world view. I have friends from all walks of life and many different cultures, I bump into some of the old crew now and then in a pub and after five minutes I'm just glad I quit the scene."

"Anyone on the horizon now?"

"Oh, now that's a loaded question," she sipped her wine, "I've got lots on the horizon, some are definitely hot but it's a matter of do I want to go that far yet. There's something to be said for being single, you don't have to make the bed in the morning."

"Amen to that."

"And what about you? No saintly men out there?"

"Oh there's certainly men but I wouldn't call them saintly."

"Tell me more."

"There isn't much to tell," she flicked at her hair, "I'm not exactly innocent but since I took my vows I've stayed on this side of the line."

"Meaning?"

"No sex."

"Not even with a sex toy?"

"Especially not with a sex toy," she winced.

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