He has almost forgotten the last time he could breathe so freely. Newly opened orphanage, which in a long run turned out to be a much needed yet tiresome ordain, drained the Right Reverend Adrian Davenport, bishop of Rochester diocese, to the limits he didn’t know he ever had. It was his holy yet administrator’s duty to see the whole process from start to finish, and he went through those circles of Hell gracefully, at least, that was what his darling wife Elizabeth had said before the final paper was signed and sealed.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that”, she said, tugging his elbow. The Sun was barely visible from the steel-grey shield of rain-heavy clouds, but at least it wasn’t windy. A rustling sound of their footsteps was soothing enough to make them both sleepy half-past ten. Rare birds sang pitch high far away in the dark forest far from the town’s old walls and the sweet murmur of the river Maidway, after which the town was called, added just enough calmness to the picture for them to stay almost quite in their private talk while walking in awe of the God’s given nature. It was a lovely Autumn to witness despite an inevitable decay of everything living around them.

“If you are worried for my eternal soul, you should know that I’m not sincerely lying, which is a worse sin than blasphemy”.

“I wonder why are you so sure about this? Did I fail you as your priest, my dear wife? Well, it’s hard to argue, I admit, though I really must, in attempt to save your eternal soul and mine as well, as a result of our union”, he said with a teasing, loving but tired smile. His voice sounded husky yet melodic, especially when he was trying to explain his duties. “I agree, it wasn’t easy to buy that land and to build that house, and to keep everyone out of church’s funds, but that wasn’t the Hell, my dear. The struggle was bearable, it’s quite inappropriate to parallel eternal punishment and that of bureaucratic… Oh, don’t laugh at me, you child!” he added with a chuckle of his own, when she once again broke her silence and slight pretend to actually seriously listen to her husband.

Her almost pale face was laced with wrinkles around her eyes and corners of her mouth, it was also framed with grey and white locks of her once blond and curly hair. Her shoulders were more often covered in grey wool scarfs to stay warm in her slender body, but her eyes were still piercing blue just like her usual dress, and fiercely focused, just like when he first met her decades ago in Bristol port of all places... Oh, he fell in love with her instantly and the feeling never ever withered.

“I’m sorry, almost sincere”.

“I know, and I almost believe you”.

They laughed again, together.

His darling Betty, she was his anchor in so many ways. Mostly to stay humble and real not only before the Lord above but before his people right beneath Him. In any other clergy family it would be intolerable to say all those things his Betty could say to him. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure he would be able to forgive all her naughty thoughts. But their family was true and loving beyond imagination, and his heart was singing every single time she was laughing at his expense, just like she did a moment ago. The reason for that was sadly painful, and the ache of that pain united them even closer than a marriage vow.

Her laughter was a sign of her own strength and strong will that he admired, especially since the death of their only daughter. Years have passed, yet the loss of their child became as living being as they both were, always somewhere near hiding in simple shadows of their house that didn’t witness a miracle of a growing young lady she could have become but never did.

“You can leave for Dover later, please, stay home. I’m sure people would be happy to hear your sermon, especially with all that wave of bad omens and rotten crops”, said Betty, bringing herself closer to Adrian to hug his arm on a particularly shaky turn of the stony path right to the river bank.

It wasn’t usual for him to perform ordinary Sunday Service instead of local parish’s clergy, but it was somewhat a special occasion. Betty stood right beside him the day their new orphanage has opened its doors in the outskirts of Maidstone, in a small village by the forest and infamous black swamps, where celebrations were as rare as unicorns. It was unusually sunny and people felt happy to witness the results of a long-awaited construction. She was literally beaming with joy for the children and for her husband, who made that day possible.

For what it’s worth, Maidstone needed some sort of elevation and celebration before winter, and if he could provide both, then he had no reason to refuse. Especially if his wife was asking him to help their neighbors. Leaving Maidstone was an adventure he had to take several times per month, closer to ten, and a trouble to adjust for the cruel reality of an outside world. But Betty was right, just like Father Simon, who has invited Adrian to talk to the parish instead of him on Sunday, people were getting frightened, just like in dark old times. Maidstone was slowly drowning in doubts and murmurs of a strange ill luck that has struck their land. It all started with a sudden death of his dear friend Lord Danby and with an arrival of his successor, who wasn’t even remotely a pleasant person to talk to. Yet Adrian had to, because of the lord’s last will administrations. Adrian couldn’t refuse to help his old friend to settle his mortal matters after his departure from the land of the living, and he was slightly saddened by that death. To be honest, Adrian didn’t have that much friends to talk to eagerly, and one of them was now gone… It felt like time wasn’t their friend lately either, but was that feeling true? Looking at his wife’s wrinkles he could imagine her beyond that surface once again young and lively. Nowadays she wasn’t as fast as she was used to, just like him, old and a little bit too fragile in the ankles, but the life they have lived together, all the memories they have had together, that was a gift brought up by years passing by, the time spent well in good faith.

And then Adrian suddenly felt in his heart, like he always did, that Lord has given him a theme to voice His wisdom through Adrian to the people of Maidstone.

“I will speak on Sunday, my darling”, he said finally, and kissed his Betty on her forehead. “Thank you”.

“For what?” she leaned in for the kiss instinctively and asked curiously, her ever beautiful young eyes piercing his heart once again.

“Oh, you will know soon enough”, he said with a smile, looking back at Betty with all the love he was graced with for years in marriage with her.

It was a joy, as always, to speak to his native parish and light up some heavy heads with words of God’s Wisdom. He saw an impact, that his speech was reaching deep down to their souls, while he was reminding them of the power of love, intertwined with time, as a Gift to cherish and as a reservoir of strength against all weaknesses. He was speaking the truth he felt with his own heart, that he lived with his own life, that he held in his own hands while embracing his own wife in times of need and struggles. Time took health and looks, but instead it gave meaning to everything trivial and everything present. Adrian believed and shared his thoughts, that it was God’s Plan to let them understand and accept that their lifetime, all their gains and losses, are worth to be treasured even in the darkest of hours as something precious. They had lived thought hardships and became stronger, and so any further struggles should not be welcomed with fear, they should be embraced as lessons to become better.

He was looking at his wife more times than he had often allowed himself if they were together in public, and he didn’t notice at the beginning the person she was sitting next to. But when he did notice, strange string rang in his old heart. He looked back at his wife, and she smiled at him reassuringly.

After the sermon, slowly moving past his parish and receiving thanks and prayers, Adrian has finally reached the back of Maidstone church, where his wife was standing right next to the young lady to whom he was introduced not a long time ago in his late friend’s mansion.

“Lady Danby”, he said in acknowledgment and greeting, slightly smiling with just the corners of his mouth. “I’m glad to see you in good health”.

People around them were moving to the exit, barely hiding some curious glances. Adrian on the other hand was preoccupied with a nasty feeling of concern, that his wife was suddenly paler than usual for an unknown reason.

“What can I do for you?” asked Adrian, stepping closer to Betty at the same time. Betty gently took his hand as a support and said before young lady could speak for herself.

“I believe the work with Lord Danby’s will isn’t exactly over, dear husband”.

Last edited by The Herald (2024-06-12 22:27:44)