Page 14 of Amazing Grace

‘I’ve just got back from taking Becks for a lovely long walk over the forest, and I’m just going to make myself a great big cup of coffee and have a read and make the most of my Monday off before Archie comes home from school.’

‘Wrong! I want to know every detail about Derek, so you’re going to jump in your car and meet me at the little teashop in the high street. I’ll be there in ten minutes. So go comb your hair, put some lippy on and get down here and meet me. I’ll be waiting.’ The phone went dead so there was no way that she could argue.

Grace smiled to herself. She knew that Monica was only trying to help her, but she was just feeling a tad sorry for herself. As the weather was particularly warm for the time of year, she quickly put on a strapless elasticated-top sundress, grabbed her denim jacket from the banister, picked up her car keys and slammed the door behind her before she changed her mind.

On her approach to the teashop, Grace, as always, said a little parking prayer up to her mum in heaven, asking for a nice space right outside the door.Perhaps if I didn’t do this, and parked a little further away from everywhere I went and walked that little bit further, I wouldn’t be such a lardy arse.Lo and behold her wish was granted, but as she looked through the café window, Monica was nowhere to be seen. Pushing open the café door and looking around, Grace confirmed it – Monica wasn’t there. It was bizarre. It was very unusual for her to be late.

‘Errr, excuse me, you must be Grace.’ She turned towards the timid voice to be met by a man who looked around the age of fifty-five to sixty, wearing a dark green jumper over a shirt and stripy tie that looked like it belonged to his granddad, a pair of what could only be described as ‘slacks’ and brown shoes with Velcro fasteners.

Confused, Grace nodded. ‘I am, and you are…?’

‘Malcolm, dear. Monica has told me all about you. I love the idea of a website where a friend arranges the dates for you. It’s very clever. I was so delighted when you said you’d meet me here for a cup of tea.’

‘Erm, I’m sorry! You said that Monica said I’d meet you here?’ she asked inquisitively.

‘Yes, dear. I’ve been waiting for half an hour. I wanted to get here early because I was so excited. When I saw your picture on the website, you were the prettiest girl I’d seen for ages and I clicked on your profile. I plucked up the courage to get in touch and when your friend replied and set up this date, I was over the moon.’

Grace smiled politely, but inside she was thinking that she was going to kill Monica the minute she laid eyes on her. Her phone signalled that familiar harp sound to say she had a text message and when she excused herself to Malcolm and looked at it, it was short and sweet, from the traitor herself.

Have fun babes and ring me later. Monx

The only wringing that would be done later would be that of Monica’s neck when Grace got her hands on her.

‘Come and sit down, dear, I’ve already got us a pot of tea.’

Oh God!Grace thought to herself.Am I really doing this? I’ll just stop for a quick cup of tea to be polite.There she was again, being polite and pleasing everyone else. It really was the story of her sad little life.

‘So tell me about yourself, Grace. I want to find out everything about you.’ Malcolm smiled at her as he put the tea strainer on the cups and started to pour out the tea. She looked closely at him. He wasn’t an unpleasant-looking man, she supposed, but he was quite old and, well, a bit square. His hair was receding and the bit he did have was in a comb-over. He just looked a bit careworn but unfortunately not in a shabby-chic way. Even when Bridget Jones met Mark Darcy, you could see that underneath that awful Christmas jumper there was a glimmer of gorgeousness just bursting to get out. But Malcolm was no Colin Firth, more’s the pity. Shaking off her thoughts, Grace decided to give Malcolm a chance. She knew that first appearances could be deceiving.

‘No, you go first, Malcolm.’

‘Well, I’ve been a vicar now for just over fifteen years. I’m at St Cuthbert’s church in Camberdown Village at the moment, been there for twelve months, and apart from my parishioners I don’t really know anyone around. I’ve held a fair few cheese-and-wine evenings in the vicarage but they’re a funny lot in our village. It’s only really the old dears that come along, and they just come for the wine, I think, and a bit of friendly company. No one my age ever comes along.’

Grace thought what a bundle of fun it must be at the vicarage cheese-and-wine parties and reminded herself never to go along if she was offered an invitation. She checked herself and realised that Malcolm probably had more fun than she did – at least he wasn’t stopping in most nights in his jimmies with a dog for company.

‘Mother says that I’m trying too hard to make friends and that I’m too nice to people. But I’m a vicar, that’s what we do!’

‘Where does your mother live, Malcolm? Is she local?’

‘Oh, she lives with me, of course. I lived with her until I was given my first parish and vicarage, and then I could repay the favour so I invited her to come and live with me. We rub along nicely. She’s a good old thing. She cooks and cleans for me still, won’t hear of me doing anything like that, bless her.’

She didn’t quite know what to say next. ‘Do you have any pets, Malcolm?’ she asked, casting her mind to some topic of conversation where they might find some common ground.

‘Oh yes, we have three cats. I’m a huge cat fan. And I collect pottery that is cat themed. Every time Mother has a few days away somewhere she always manages to bring me something back to add to my collection. Do you like cats, Grace?’

Even though she really wanted to reply,No, I can’t stand the bloody things. They creep into my garden, crap and creep out again, she didn’t feel that it was appropriate to say ‘crap’ to a vicar.

‘More of a dog person, myself,’ she replied, now quite nervous that she might swear in front of him – even more so because she was trying so hard not to. ‘I have a chocolate labradoodle called Becks, named after David Beckham. He’s adorable.’

‘Oh, David Beckham, isn’t he that footballer fellow who used to be the captain for England? I think I know of him, although I don’t have a television so I don’t watch much sport. I’m more of a Radio 4 man myself. Going back to dogs, I got bitten by a dog when I was seven and I’ve been scared to death of them since,’ he replied.

‘Do you mind me asking how old you are now?’ Grace was shocked at her direct question but thought she’d grab the opportunity to find out, assuming he was at least fifty-five. She picked up her tea and took a sip.

‘Forty-two,’ he replied.

Grace swallowed and coughed at the same time and a massive hiccuppy, burpy-type noise came out as she sprayed her tea over the table between them. Malcolm jumped out of his chair and patted her on the back.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, that went down the wrong way,’ she explained, wanting to shout out,Forty-two! No fucking way!

---