So, instead of rewarding him, they did the next best thing and rewarded his dutiful wife, who spent most of her days gardening, reading and eating chocolates of gratitude, and growing bigger by the day. Her hips were a testament to how good a vicar her husband was. Paul Ryan’s grateful congregants could see the evidence of their generosity in the mounds of fat that hung from Miriam’s arms and wobbled at her waist. Yes, his congregation were very generous indeed. If only they’d show their generosity in the church collection plate rather than dropping it into his eager wife’s mouth.
He settled back to watch a nature programme, which he felt certain he’d seen before, when the doorbell rang. He frowned and looked at the clock on the overstuffed mantelpiece. It was almost nine. His heart sank. He’d been hoping for an early night. He clicked off the new plasma TV screen, pulled on a warm considerate expression and walked into the hall. A woman’s hunched figure could be seen through the frosted glass door window. Reverend Paul Ryan sighed. Women were the worst. They always took an age to get to the point.
*
Faye sat in her car for ages and Henry feared that someone may report her for stalking. Henry’s throat was dry. He’d meant to get some water before leaving but was so keen to keep up with Faye that he forgot. Faye climbed from the car, her hands tightly clenched. Nervously she rang the doorbell.
‘I can’t,’ she said and turned to leave.
‘But you’ve rung the doorbell,’ said Henry.
The door opened and a man wearing a dog collar stood in front of them. His hair was ruffled and his shirt hanging outside his trousers. Henry wondered if he’d been about to get into bed. He gave them a welcoming smile.
‘I’m sorry to bother you at this late hour,’ Faye said. Henry wondered just how late it was.
‘That’s alright. I was just about to make a cup of tea. Would you like one?’ asked the vicar.
‘Thank you,Reverend Ryan,’ said Faye.
‘Do you recognise me?’ she asked.
‘And can you see me?’ added Henry.
‘It’s Faye, isn’t it? You did the flowers on Sunday.’
She nodded.
‘Yes, I did. There’s something worrying me.’
‘Well, come in,’ he opened the door wider so she could step inside.
Henry followed. He’d never been inside a rectory before. Well, if you came to think about it there had been no reason for him too. His feet stepped onto creaking floorboards. They followed the reverend into a large lounge lined with dark oak panels. Henry immediately felt the heat from the dying embers of a fire and edged his way towards it.
‘I’ll get the tea,’ said Reverend Ryan pointing to a rumpled sofa for Faye to sit down.
She sank into it and stretched her feet towards the fire. The sound of footsteps above startled her. Faye looked up at the massive wooden beams.
‘Mrs Ryan,’ she said as though she knew Henry was sitting beside her. The door opened and the vicar returned with a tray.
‘Tea,’ he smiled.
‘I feel stupid,’ she blurted.
‘Stupid, why on earth would you feel stupid?’ he asked, pouring the tea into flowery china cups.
Faye bowed her head.
‘I have psychic powers you see.’
Reverend Ryan looked at her doubtfully.
‘I know they talk about me at church and say I’m a fraud. It’s just that sometimes the spirits elude me when I need them the most and that tends to be more often than not. All the same, I did sense something tonight and it’s frightened me.’
Henry sat forward.
‘What she means is, up until now, she’s been faking it and taking money too. Tonight though, she sensed me. That’s what she’s trying to tell you. It’s just taking her a long time.’
‘What has frightened you tonight?’ asked Reverend Ryan kindly, although Henry could tell the last thing he wanted to talk about was Faye’s psychic gift.
