Fairytale of Headley Cross Read online

  She looked familiar. He’d seen her before. Well, obviously. In church on a Sunday, he chided himself.

  Carson sneaked a look at the woman’s left hand as she draped her coat over the back of a chair. “Miss Turner?”

  She turned and looked at him. “Yes?”

  He held out a hand. Her voice sounded familiar, but he was sure he hadn’t spoken to her before today. “I’m Carson Armitage. I understand you organize and teach the Sunday school classes for the children.”

  Her eyes flickered for a moment. He could almost see her mind whirling as if trying to place him. Just like the way his mind was trying to work out where he’d seen and heard her before. And it wasn’t from church either. It was somewhere else.

  “Yes, I do. It means missing the service each Sunday morning, but I try to make the evening ones.”

  “That’s good to hear.” He paused. “This is going to sound really corny, but have we met?”

  “You have a dog,” she said absently. “I’ve seen you in the park. You’re Mr. Border Collie.”

  Of course. The blonde woman who was so upset earlier that afternoon. “Miss Sheltie. But it’s more than that. I’m sure I’ve heard your voice before. Have we spoken on the phone or something like that?”

  His voice died in his throat. That was it.

  Color flooded her face. Had she made the connection at the same instant he had? “Oh, no. Please tell me I didn’t ring you this afternoon by mistake.”

  “I wish I could, but, yes, I’m afraid you rang the church office, and I answered the phone.”

  2

  Maggie wished she could simply vanish. How much worse could the day get? It hadn’t been just some random bloke she was never going to meet on the other end of that phone call. It was the new pastor. Someone she was going to have to work with for the next several years. And she was the Sunday school teacher and should know better. What must he think of her? Her cheeks burned so hot she could easily fry eggs on them.

  On top of which, Patricia’s description of him didn’t even cover first base. The man was beyond attractive. But he was a pastor, more than that he was her pastor, and she was…well let’s face it, she’d yelled at him on the phone for something he hadn’t even done.

  Every part of her wanted to get out of the church hall and run as far away as she possibly could. Surely it wasn’t possible to be any more embarrassed than she was right now. In the space of a few short hours, she’d lost her boyfriend, her self-respect and now any chance of becoming friends with Pastor Carson Armitage.

  But running was what cowards did. And she was not a coward. Her parents, and therapist, had taught her self-worth came from facing things and working through them, not from running away and sticking your head in the sand.

  Finally, she found her voice. “I’m really sorry about that. I was just so angry, and I dialed without thinking. I assumed Wesley picked up, and I let him have it. I’m sorry. If I’d known it was the wrong number…”

  Pastor Carson’s smile reached his eyes. “Not to worry. No harm done. Is everything all right now?”

  “Not really.” She sighed. “But there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”

  “You can pray. It might not sound much, but it’s the strongest weapon in the Christian’s arsenal. And speaking of prayer, I must get this service started. Could we meet tomorrow at some point in the afternoon? I’m trying to talk to everyone involved in church work, and I have an idea to run past you at the same time. Are you free about four?”

  Not really, but can’t tell him that. Maggie thought quickly. If she did her planning at lunch, she could leave at three forty-five. “Sure.”

  “Good. I’m working out of my front room—unless you’d prefer to meet somewhere more public?”

  “The manse is fine.”

  “OK. See you then.”

  Maggie slid into her seat as Pastor Carson headed to the front of the hall. Her face still burned. She’d never live down that first meeting. Ever. And he probably wanted to discuss it in depth tomorrow. She blinked hard. I will not cry.

  Jan sat beside her. “I thought I was going to be late.” She shrugged off her coat. “Are you all right?”

  “Not really.”

  “What’s up?”

  Maggie shook her head as Pastor Carson rose to his feet. “Later.”

  “Good evening.” His deep voice sent shivers running through her. Shame, regret, and something she couldn’t quite put a finger on. “Our Bible study tonight comes from the gospel of Luke, beginning at chapter two. So, I’d like us to begin the meeting by singing Silent Night. It’s number 377 in the blue books.”

  ****

  The prayer meeting over, Maggie shifted forward on her chair, intending to make a hasty exit.

  Jan caught her arm. “Did you manage to get hold of Wesley?”

  “Yes and no.” Maggie pulled on her coat.

  “Sounds interesting. How’d he take it?”

  “No idea. I rang him and yelled down the phone at him. Twice. Second time I got his answerphone. First time it was a wrong number.”

  Jan’s eyes widened. “No. You didn’t.”

  “I did.”

  “Who did you call?”

  Heat rose in Maggie’s cheeks again. “Someone I didn’t know.”

  “Well, at least you’re not likely to run into a total stranger.”

  “I wish.” Maggie picked up her bag and stood. She dropped the bag on her chair and started to fasten her coat.

  “You met him?”

  “Unfortunately.” Her fingers refused to work. Why had she gone for a duffle coat with toggles and not something with a zipper? Zippers were far easier.

  “So who is he?”

  “I have to go. I’ll see you Sunday.”

  Jan grasped her arm, her eyes searching for an answer. “Maggie, who was it?”

  Maggie held in the sigh she so desperately wanted to express. This was her fault for saying something in the first place. “Pastor Carson. Now if you don’t mind, I need to get home. I want a hot bath and at least six hours sleep before facing a class of eight-year-olds in the morning. It’s going to be another busy day.”

  ****

  Busy was definitely an understatement, Maggie decided as she got into her car at half past three. Flat out exhausting wouldn’t even begin to cover it either. Rehearsals for the nativity had begun with teaching the children the songs. Being the only teacher in the school who could play the piano, meant that task fell to her, along with playing in assembly each morning.

  As she started the engine, her phone rang. She pulled it from her bag. “Hello?”

  “It’s Wesley. Can we talk?”

  “We have nothing to talk about. Like I said yesterday, it’s over.”

  “We didn’t talk yesterday. You left a message on my answerphone.”

  “I’m not going to be treated like that, Wesley. I saw you with the girl in the café yesterday.”

  “Let me explain…”

  “Explain how? You told me you were in London. The text I watched you send said you were in London. It’s over, Wesley.” She ended the call and dropped her phone back into her bag.

  Maggie sucked in a deep calming breath. She wasn’t that upset about her relationship ending. What did that mean? Other than the fact that Wesley wasn’t the man for her? That’s six wasted months, Lord, but only if I don’t make the same mistake again. I’m trusting You to have the right man for me somewhere. I know I was never really in love with Wesley. I wanted the prestige of going out with him, nothing more.

  She drove from the car park, towards the manse. Hopefully this meeting wouldn’t take too long, and then she could go home, kick off her shoes, and chill out with a large mug of herbal tea and some carols on the stereo.

  The manse wasn’t far from the school. She parked and looked at the small, neat bungalow in the waning light. Roses still bloomed on the trellis between the windows, despite it being early December, and the grass showed signs of being re
cently mown.

  Pastor Carson stood on a ladder, fixing a string of Christmas lights to the edge of the guttering. Even from this distance, he looked a lot more handsome than a pastor ought to—although that would be one way to get people into the church, albeit for the wrong reasons. His navy blue corduroy slacks and burgundy turtleneck jumper suited his slim figure. Why he didn’t have a coat on was beyond her. He’d freeze before he ran out of light to see what he was doing.

  She sat for a moment watching him. Then she got out of the car and continued to take stock as he repositioned the ladder and climbed up again.

  Maggie shook her head. Another ten minutes and it would be properly dark. Not the best time to try to decorate the outside of the house. She headed up the path. Maybe if she helped him, he would go easy on her when they spoke. “Hey, Pastor.”

  Pastor Carson looked at her and smiled. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll be down.”

  “It’s fine, I’m earlier than I said I would be. Would you like a hand?”

  “That would be great, thank you. The light is fading faster than I anticipated. There’s another ladder around the side of the house. I’ll get it—”

  “I can do that.” Maggie returned his smile. “Whereabouts is it?”

  “Around to the left, though the gate, and it’s just inside the garden.”

  “Be right back.”

  ****

  Carson watched Maggie walk away. His heart had done that annoying skip-a-beat thing again as she spoke to him. Just like it had done the previous day. Maybe meeting her here wasn’t a good idea, after all. Just like trying to put up the lights without a coat or gloves. He pulled a few more hooks from his pocket. Still it’d be worth it when it was done. He hoped.

  The other ladder clattered next to him and Maggie climbed up it. “Pass me the hooks.”

  He gave her a handful, and she began attaching them to the guttering. “You’ve done this before,” he said.

  “Dad always decorates the house. We lived in the States for a few years and picked up the habit there. When we came back, he kept up the tradition. Of course, a lot more people here do it now than they used to. Even though the lights look better in the snow than the rain we get here.”

  Carson added the lights to the section in front of him. “What does your dad do?”

  “Something to do with science. I’ve never understood it.” She took the string of lights from him and began attaching them.

  He climbed down the ladder and moved it to the other side of her. “Did you manage to get hold of the right person yesterday?”

  Maggie paused and looked at the lights. “Yeah. About five minutes after I rang you by mistake. I told him more or less what I told you.”

  “How did he take it?”

  “Not very well, but I’m tired of being lied to. Tired of being told what to do, what to wear, and what to spend my money on… Sorry. You don’t want to hear all this.”

  Carson hung the lights. “It’s fine. You need to talk, and I’m here to listen.”

  Maggie moved her ladder to the other side of his. “The thing is, I’m not sure he ever loved me. Or that I ever loved him. I think I was more fascinated by his success than anything else. Jan’s been telling me for weeks he was too controlling. He wanted my money in his account, dictated where we went, how I spent my free time, how I dressed, and all the while he was seeing some other woman. I was just his…his…” She broke off, struggling to keep her voice level.

  Carson took pity on her. “I’m sorry. You must be cold, I know I am. How about we go inside, and I’ll make some something hot to drink? We can talk church business by the fire. It’s too dark to see to do this now, anyway.”

  Ten minutes later, he settled into his favorite chair by the fire and rested one ankle over his knee. The fire crackled and glowed in the hearth. The Christmas tree twinkled in the corner of the room. The scent of the cinnamon cocoa filled him, and he smiled. He looked over the top of the mug at Maggie. “Warmer now?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She sipped the hot drink.

  “Thank you for your help in putting up the lights.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Carson eased back in the chair. “How do you find doing Sunday school?”

  She swirled the cocoa in the cup. “Straight to the point.”

  He nodded. “No point beating around the bush. After all, that is why we’re both here, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Maggie paused for a minute. “It’s hard,” she said finally.

  “Oh?” He admired her honesty, even if that wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “In what way?”

  “It’s not the lesson prep or the teaching, it’s just…” She took a drink of the cocoa. “I have two teams of six people who do three weeks on and three weeks off. But I’m the only one there all the time. I do all the teaching.”

  “Really? Have you mentioned this to Jack?”

  “No. I didn’t want it to look as if I were complaining.”

  “Then leave it with me. Who covers when you’re away?”

  She gave a slight laugh. “No one. Originally Esther Mulholland and I alternated with the rest of the teams, but she said she needed some time to sit in church with her husband.”

  “I’m sure you would too at times.”

  “I’m not married.” She grinned at him. “And Wesley never set foot in church, but it would be nice to be able to listen to the sermon sometimes.”

  Carson scribbled notes on the paper on his desk. “OK, leave that with me as well. The other thing I wanted to talk about was the nativity.”

  Maggie looked confused. “The nativity?”

  “Yes. I’d like the Sunday school to do a nativity as part of the all age service the Sunday before Christmas. That’s Christmas Eve this year. And I was wondering if you’d be able to organize it.”

  Her face was a picture. A charming mix of shock, fear and for an instant skepticism. Then she covered it and tilted her head at him.

  “It doesn’t have to be a massive half hour production. Just a five minute retelling of the nativity story in place of the children’s talk that morning. It would be nice to have as many of the children involved as possible. Do you think it’s doable?”

  Maggie sipped her cocoa. “I’ve written a simple one for work, so yeah. I’ll just take out all the songs and have them sing Away in a Manger or something similar. Thing is, I’d need a lot of help. There are only three Sundays left.”

  Carson smiled. “Thank you. I’ll come and give you a hand.”

  “Aren’t you preaching?”

  “Not in the morning. I’m leading in the morning and preaching in the evening. I’ll do the children’s talk and then come out and give you a hand.”

  She smiled back. “Thank you. Might even let you help cast it. As you’re unbiased.”

  He laughed. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  3

  Carson followed the elders out of the vestry. Jack had arranged guest preachers for some of the weeks he would be away before Carson had been appointed, and today was one of them. It meant that after leading and doing the children’s talk, he was as ‘off-duty’ as a pastor could be and could sit with the congregation and just listen. Or at least he could if he hadn’t promised Maggie he’d go into Sunday school. This morning the task of preaching fell to one of the elders, Nate Holmes.

  Carson sat in the pulpit and glanced down at the sheet of notices, convinced he’d manage to find a way to mess up this part of the service. He slid them into the front of his Bible and looked up. The church was packed. Chapel, he corrected. The church was the people, not the building. He spotted Maggie almost at once.

  Blonde hair neatly piled on top of her head, not too much makeup and a red knit dress over black leggings. Warmth spread through him and his heart beat a little faster. What was it about her? She was involved with someone. At least she had been up until this week. So it was far too soon to—

  He broke off, sh
aking himself. Getting way ahead of yourself here, Carson. You have too much history to ever hope for that. Besides, you are here to pastor this church, not get romantically involved with them.

  He glanced at the clock as the music stopped and rose to his feet. “Good morning. And welcome to Headley Baptist on the first Sunday in Advent.”

  As always, the first twenty minutes flew, and he left the chapel with the children. His task that morning would be twofold. Help Maggie tell the children about the nativity and observe her and the other helpers as they taught Sunday school to the beginners’ class.

  The Sunday school was known as YPS or young person Sunday, to fit in with all the other children’s work. The under threes were in the crèche. The beginner’s class, YPSB covered ages three to six years, YPS went from six to eleven, and the twelve-year-olds had a promotions class before graduating to the main service.

  He sat at the back as Maggie got the children settled. She began with a few songs before dividing them into their groups for news and prayer. This gave even the youngest a chance to tell what they’d done during the week and ask for prayers for everything ranging from a sick rabbit to a cut finger. Then Maggie taught them the Bible story and memory verse.

  She really was gifted in her ability to keep their attention. One of the children was a little disruptive, but instead of shouting at him, she merely took his hand and got him to help her. Once she’d finished the teaching, she told them about the nativity.

  He smiled at the children’s enthusiasm. Of course they all wanted to be Mary or Joseph.

  “It’ll be totally random,” Maggie said. “I’ll put all your names in a hat and pull them out. Only I don’t have a hat…”

  Carson picked up on his cue and pulled his beanie out of his pocket. “I’ve got my thinking cap. Will that do?”

  “It’s a Christmas hat,” one of the little ones said. “It’s got a reindeer on it.”

  Carson grinned. “My mother gave it to me and told me I had to wear it to church to keep my ears warm. I expect your mummy tells you the same thing.”