Page 20 of Lust

I force myself upright, shoving all thoughts of Blake deep down, straighten my clothes and run my fingers through my hair and force myself to believe that everything will be okay. I’ll go and see Pa, we’ll chat and he’ll tell me all about his weekendaway. Then tonight, when I get home, I’ll bathe before asking God for absolution for my transgressions.

Yes, that’s it. That’s all I need to do. Everything will be fine. I’ll avoid Blake and Roman, focus on my work and allow God to show me the way.

Feeling confident and sure I have it all under control, I walk the rest of the way to Pa’s and knock on the door.

A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I hear Pa’s footsteps coming down the hall to the front door. The smile I so successfully plastered on my face is wiped away the second Pa opens the door and I see the bruise on the side of his face.

“Oh gosh, Pa. What happened? Are you okay?” I demand as I step inside, scanning the rest of him and noticing the bandage covering his hand.

“It’s fine, Sydney. Don’t make a fuss.”

“But, Pa?—”

“It was a small accident. That is all. Nothing for you to worry about,” he says cutting me off sharply, turning and striding back down the hall.

I close the door, taking my shoes off quickly and follow him. “As long as you’re okay. How did it even happen,” I press, stepping into the kitchen.

He sets cups out and switches the kettle on. “I tripped as I was leaving the hotel. And before you ask, I got checked out at the hospital. Nothing broken, just some bruises and a sprained wrist.”

I nod as he picks up the kettle and fills the cups. “Getting clumsy in your old age, Pa,” I joke.

Ignoring my jesting, he says, “How was Reverend Stone?”

I suck in a breath at the mention of Roman’s name and avoid Pa’s gaze as he brings the tea over. “Fine. He’s fine,” I say a little too quickly, and realising it sounds like I’m sayinghe’s fine,which he is, I try again. “Er, he got on well,” I stutter, finally looking up at Pa.

He’s watching me with an assessing gaze. “Yes, a few parishioners I spoke to yesterday enjoyed his service.”

I hum, fearing opening my mouth will only lead to more suspicion, and instead pick up my cup. It’s burning hot, but I need something to keep me focused.

“I’m considering asking him to stay on and take over a few duties.”

I cough and splutter, choking on my mouthful of hot tea. “Sorry,” I say, wiping a hand across my mouth. “Went down the wrong way,” I add before asking why.

“Well, as you so subtly pointed out, I’m not getting any younger and perhaps it’s time I began preparing someone to takeover.”

I baulk at the idea of having Roman around long term. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Pa. I was only joking about you being old. I can help out more.” I internally wince at the idea of spending more time at the church, and that alone is cause for concern. Shouldn’t I want to spend time with God? Especially as I seem to need reminding about living life free from sin.

“I’ve made peace with you making your own way in life outside the church, Sydney. I might not like some of your choices, particularly your choice of work, but overall, I’m proud of the woman you’ve become.”

I almost choke again, this time on the emotional lump that formed in my throat at his words. I dip my head to hide the tears I know have welled in my eyes.

“Besides, it’s not about needing extra help. I love my work, which is why I would like to spend more time travelling around the country spreading God’s word.”

I’m not surprised as we’ve moved around quite a lot over the years. When I question him about it, he explains that anotherreverend has asked him to be part of a programme to help spread God’s love to those who need it the most.

While Pa takes a call in his office, I take the time to wash our cups and put them away. I’m tidying a pile of paperwork on the counter when a receipt catches my eye.

Pulling it free from the rest, I lay it on top to read. It’s from Green’s Guest House in Oxford. Scanning the page, I see it was for a stay this past weekend. Strange. I’m sure Pa said his meeting was in Surrey not Oxford.

Footsteps echo down the hall as Pa returns, and I quickly slot the receipt beneath some others, straightening them and placing them neatly on the side a second before he enters.

“Sorry about that. Are you going to stay for dinner?” he asks.

“Actually, I need to get going.” I begin walking toward the hall but pause and turn back to Pa. “Did you manage to visit our old church while you were away?”

“No, not this time. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. I just wondered because you know how much I loved it there.” He nods and I leave as quickly as possible.

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