CHAPTER 12

Missionary Positions

 

 

Cass was awoken by a cry in the night. Adrenaline raced through her body, and she was wide awake in an instant. Her alarm clock flashed 3.14 but the house was otherwise silent and dark. For a moment Cass thought that it might have been Twiggy, but there was the cat, fast asleep on her feet not making a sound. Had she really heard something, or was the amount of mulled wine she had drunk making her imagine things? Just as she was beginning to think that must be the case, she heard a movement from Anna’s room, a clatter, a thump and feet hurrying down the stairs, then she heard a switch flick and a line of light showed underneath her bedroom door. Twiggy woke up, stretched, and padded off to the door, waiting to be let out. If Anna was up and about it must be feeding time.

Cass got up and followed Twiggy down the stairs and into the kitchen. Twiggy was straight over to rub around Anna’s ankles, meowing hopefully. Anna was pale, her pallor more marked against the dark red of her untidy hair and her hands were shaking as she put the kettle on.

‘Vicar. I … I couldn’t sleep.’ She was trying to sound normal but her voice shook.

‘Another nightmare?’ Cass asked gently.

‘I … it wasn’t …’ Anna began, but she couldn’t keep it up. She slumped into a chair at the kitchen table. ‘Yes. I was her. I was the Maiden,’ Anna said, looking up at her with huge, dark eyes. ‘I was drowning. I was in the sea, and I was drowning. The water was over my head, I had heavy skirts wrapped around my legs and I couldn’t move. The water was pulling at me, and the skirts were dragging me down; it felt so real.’ Her voice was coming in sobs now.

Cass tentatively sat down beside her.

‘Chances are that your duvet got tangled round your legs in your sleep.’ She tried to keep her tone calm and reasonable. ‘It just made you think -’

‘No! It was more than that. I could feel the cold and taste the salt water in my mouth. I can still taste it, that’s why I wanted the tea, I think I’m going to be sick.’ She put a hand over her mouth and rushed from the room. Upstairs in the bathroom Cass could hear her retching.

She made a pot of tea, left it on the Rayburn, then poured a glass of water for Anna and followed her up to the landing. The bathroom door was locked so she knocked gently.

‘I’ve brought you a drink of water, Anna.’

Gingerly, Anna drew back the bolt. She looked even paler than she had done, pale and young and lost.

‘Oh Anna, it’s all right!’ Cass said, overwhelmed by a rush of compassion for the younger woman. Putting the water glass down on the shelf above the sink, she tried to hug Anna, who stiffened as if she was uncomfortable with the physical contact - they hadn’t so much as shaken hands before now.

‘Anna, it’s fine. You had too much to drink, and a bad dream. And that song of Hal’s …’ The memory of how Hal had looked at her after he sang flashed so powerfully into her mind that she twitched with momentary longing. ‘… it was very vivid.’

‘I wish he wouldn’t sing that song. I told him. I wish he’d never written it,’ Anna sobbed, Cass’s arm still awkwardly round her shoulder.

‘He wrote it?’ Cass was stunned. ‘Hal wrote that?’ The subtle, haunting melody still twined into her memory.

‘Of course he did.’ She stepped away from Cass, and took a gulp of the water. For a moment Cass thought she was going to be sick again, but she wasn’t. ‘I don’t think I can go back to bed yet. Will you talk to me for a while, Vicar?’ she asked, and suddenly, for a moment, the door to Anna’s soul opened and underneath the reticent young woman Cass saw a girl who needed a friend. Hal had been right.

‘Of course. Let’s go back to the kitchen, it’s warmer down there with the Rayburn,’ Cass suggested, and put her arm around Anna who followed her, almost childlike in her fluffy pyjamas.

They pulled chairs up to the stove, and Cass poured them both a mug of tea from the teapot. Anna wrapped her hands tightly around the mug; her fingers were white and shrivelled with the cold.

‘What would you like to talk about?’ Cass asked. ‘What would help?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Not her, though, not the Maiden. I don’t want to think about her any more tonight.’

Cass saw an opportunity to get Anna to open up to her.

‘I’m sure it’s just a story, Anna. I’m sure she isn’t real, nothing but a silly legend. But we won’t talk about it. Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I feel like I hardly know you and it’s odd, living with someone you don’t know. Why don’t you tell me about when you were young; about your family?’

‘Oh Jesus, you don’t want to know about me!’ Anna said abruptly. ‘Sorry, Vicar, I didn’t mean to offend you.’

‘You haven’t Anna. Please, call me Cass.’

‘Cass. That’s a nice name. I like it. Is it short for Cassandra?’

‘That’s right. Only my mother and father ever called me Cassandra, though, and they’ve been dead a while.’ It would appear that Anna would rather talk about Cass than herself. ‘Oh, and the bishop. He calls me Cassandra.’

‘You’re on your own now, no family?’

‘That’s right.’

‘You’re not married or anything?’

‘No,’ Cass replied, taking a slow drink of the tea. ‘Not even anything!’

‘Is it for religious reasons? That you’ve never married, I mean?’

That was a big question for the middle of the night, but taking Anna’s mind off her bad dreams was the least Cass could do and it was a long time since anybody had cared enough to ask her about herself, a long time since she had talked to anyone about James. Most of her fellow vicars in the diocese already knew, and her parishioners didn’t want to know. If she wanted Anna to confide in her, then she had to trust Anna with her secrets too. Perhaps Anna wasn’t the only one who could do with a friend.

‘I had a few boyfriends when I was younger, before I was a vicar and one serious one after I was ordained. James. We were engaged. He was a vicar too. We had it all worked out, even started speaking to the bishop about it; adjacent parishes, a vicarage to share when we were married, that kind of thing.’

‘But you didn’t get married in the end?’ Anna seemed to be genuinely interested.

‘We didn’t,’ Cass said. ‘It turned out he had a vocation. He wanted to go to work as a missionary in Africa and I didn’t. He had to choose, and he chose Africa.’

‘Oh. He sounds like a bit of a pr … an idiot.’

Colour was beginning to return to Anna’s cheeks as she sipped her tea.

‘Most people seemed to think he was making a noble sacrifice,’ Cass said with a wry smile.

‘And that’s all very well, if you’re not the one being sacrificed. How long ago was that?’ Anna asked without looking up.

‘Oh, ages. About eight years ago now.’

‘And you’ve been on your own since then?’

‘Well, a vicar in her late thirties isn’t a great romantic proposition for most men. And I don’t meet that many, unless I’m burying their wives, baptising their children or marrying them to someone else, which isn’t an ideal way to meet someone!’ She tried to make a joke of it and was pleased to see Anna grin slightly, though her eyes were still fixed on a point just above her mug of tea. ‘What about you? Is there anyone special?’

‘Oh, I’ve made plenty of mistakes,’ she said sadly. I’ve slept with men I shouldn’t have. I’ve had a lot of men – or I’ve let a lot of men have me - I didn’t care for a while what I did and who I did it with, it wasn’t very clever, really,’ she sighed sadly. ‘Perhaps that’s why I’m being haunted by the ghost of a frustrated virgin – it’s a punishment.’ She was trying to sound as if she was joking, but her hands gripped the mug tighter than ever.

‘I don’t believe people are punished like that for their mistakes. Mistakes are there to learn from,’ Cass said, gently. ‘You’re only punishing yourself, Anna. Just let go. Every day should be a new beginning.’

Anna sighed. ‘It’s easy for you to say.’

‘It isn’t easy, Anna, believe me. Some days it’s very hard. Everyone has regrets.’

‘What do you regret then?’

Cass took a deep breath.

‘I’m alone.’ She looked down at the pattern on the oilcloth tablecloth, following the shape of the waves with the end of her little finger.  ‘My parents are dead. I’m the last of my family. It all ends with me.’

‘So, you and James didn’t want children then?’

‘He didn’t think we should, until we were married, because it was immoral.’

‘You mean he didn’t think you should have children, or do you mean he didn’t think you should …?’ Anna couldn’t ask the question out loud, letting it hang in the air between them.

‘No. We never slept together. Vicars aren’t supposed to have sex outside marriage, you see – and he was interested in an entirely different kind of missionary position!’

It didn’t sound quite so bad if she joked about it, but the night she had tried to persuade James to come to bed with her still made her wince with shame every time she thought about it. He had looked at her as if she had suggested something utterly sordid rather than just bending the rules of the church a little bit in the context of a loving relationship. It had been the beginning of the end, that night she had failed to live up to the church’s exacting moral guidelines. She had disappointed him and she had disappointed his God. 

‘I’ll tell you what, Vicar, why don’t we find you a nice man? You’re still in your prime. Plenty of time. We just need to find you the right one, that’s all. What about Gideon Steele?’ She winked. Cass did a double take. Silent, self-contained Anna Dawnay had made a joke!

‘What, the retired vicar? While I don’t object to an age gap, he’s over seventy!’ Cass played along. ‘And he appears to be - though you did not hear it from me - a bit of a self-righteous pillock.’

‘He’s a strong looking man, though!’ she risked a smile, ‘and he’s not over the hill yet! I know, what about Graham? He might fancy a bit on the side!’ Now Anna was getting quite daring.

‘Hmm. I think June would probably be able to tell if he even looked at another woman, let alone touched one,’ Cass was starting to quite enjoy some girly banter. It had been a long time. ‘She could spot a dirty thought before it even entered someone’s head!’

‘Maybe. But I bet he’s got a decent screwdriver in that toolbox of his!’ Anna laughed wickedly and Cass found herself joining in despite knowing that it wasn’t the kind of joke a vicar should laugh at. It was all to take Anna’s mind off other things, of course, wasn’t it?

‘I don’t want to know about Graham’s screwdriver, thank you!’

‘Well, what about Hal, then?’ Anna continued. ‘He’s definitely got an enormous screwdriver AND he knows how to use it, believe me!’

Shit. Cass felt her face go scarlet. She wasn’t used to girly banter at all, she realised.

‘Hal? Oh, good grief no! He’s too young for me, isn’t he?’ she tried to laugh it off.

‘He’s about thirty-two, thirty-three – why how old are you?’ Cass felt a sharp pang of disappointment.

‘I’m thirty-eight. Way too old!’

‘Oh, he’s not fussy.  He’s slept with half the women in Rawscar at some time or another. He’d definitely know how to show you a good time, I can tell you!’ Anna laughed again, she was being silly and it was lovely to see her smile, she did it so rarely, but every word was like a slap across the face for Cass. Hal’s not fussy. He’s slept with half the women in Rawscar. He’s got an enormous screwdriver and he knows how to use it. Did that mean …

‘Have you and Hal …?’ Cass asked, as if it was a casual enquiry. Girly banter; just girly banter.

Immediately, Anna’s smile vanished and that tight tone of voice returned. The book had been closed again, just as Cass had been getting through to her.

‘It’s complicated,’ she sighed, ‘but I don’t want to talk about all that right now.’ She stood up and went over to the sink to rinse out her cup, keeping her back to Cass. An awkward silence fell between them, but Cass suddenly noticed something.

Anna had pushed up the sleeves of her fluffy pyjamas to wash the mug, and there, on her forearm, was a small, ornate, blue anchor tattoo, just like Hal’s.