God's Country

Part Seventy-Eight

May 2020

'And great multitudes followed him; and he healed them there.'

Matthew 19:2

For all the ladies, young and older, the May bank holiday weekend was rather a pleasant interlude. Lake House was full of guests, invited there to celebrate Paul Craig's birthday, and the guardians all seemed to relax the usual routines, allowing more time for everyone to chat and enjoy each other's company as part of the celebrations. Elizabeth Munroe enjoyed it all but was rather worried about her poor husband, who did not seem to be his normal self after joining her in Meadvale. He seemed very stressed and was always disappearing to take urgent phone calls or go into private meetings with her father and some of the other senior Cabinet members. Even at dinner, when real business was normally politely avoided in front of the womenfolk, there were some murmured conversations, and although Elizabeth tried hard not to eavesdrop she was fairly sure that there was some sort of trouble involving the Church of England, of all things. Pastor Winstanley had preached about the stark differences of opinion within the Church of England over women bishops, and Elizabeth knew that well over one hundred vicars and their congregations had joined the Church of Christian Reform in the last few months, including at least one bishop, but she could not imagine what was causing the gentlemen to disrupt what was supposed to be a holiday for everyone.

Brogan Craig also picked up on the furore, although her routine was rather less relaxed than Mrs Munroe's. Miss Ellis made sure that she and Alice, now legally her sister, continued with their lessons, even if some of the visiting maidens were not studying normally by any means in the holiday atmosphere, and the guardian usually strived to find them a nice quiet corner to avoid distractions, as their nursery was being shared by several others for reasons of good manners and convenience. So she was not at all surprised to be settled in the conservatory and covered by her prayer blanket, with Alice beside her. She was twenty six in reality but in Meadvale she was an inexperienced maiden of almost eighteen, still technically in mourning for her father and thus a vulnerable child enveloped in black velvet, which did rather set her apart from everyone else. But beneath her blanket, cut off from everyone else, she used the little she had heard about the fuss over the Church of England to distract her from the misery of her daily existence. She had been there for some time when her lesson abruptly stopped for some reason, much earlier than intended, and she was left in a blissful silence.

Her training kicked in and she did not move. Even if her allotted lesson had finished, she had been taught to concentrate, and remaining still was part of that concentration. Only a maiden full of sin would fidget and she had to prove her piety by resisting the temptation to let the devil corrupt her. Miss Ellis would surely ask her questions and despite her active mind, she had to think over what she had listened to, ready to regurgitate it for her guardian when asked. However, as she solemnly considered her duty of obedience to her 'parents', she realised that there were other people in the room, talking to each other. She knew that she was not alone. For a start Alice had been placed right beside her as usual, and it would not have been unusual for some of the other maidens in residence to join them, although she had been covered before anyone else had arrived, so could not be quite so sure about that. Feeling slightly guilty, knowing that she should not pay any attention, she found herself straining her ears, the curious journalist in her kicking in once more.

"Snell is certain, the diocese is one hundred percent united in our favour." She could not be sure who it was, but it was a male voice, so bearing in mind the guest list at Broomwaters it would be someone important, and she had heard the name Snell somewhere before. She tried to remember where, in the part of her brain she reserved for her old life.

"So he plans to announce it this morning?" That was Charles Buckingham, Brogan told herself. She would have recognised his voice anywhere. She was getting used to being close to the people she had been stalking for so long and she strained even harder to hear what was said next.