Cast the First Stone (26 page)

‘They're not able to attend in the afternoons,' Joan replied. ‘Most of the younger age group – well, forties and fifties – are working. Ruth and Heather are teachers, and most of the others who might come have jobs. Then there are the much younger ones, of course, but they're looking after their children or meeting them from school. Anyway, I dare say they would find the idea of the Mothers' Union a bit off-putting.'

Fiona nodded in agreement. She was remembering that in the church she had attended in Leeds there had been a Young Wives' group. She had never known much about it except that it was there. It hadn't concerned her as she was a teenager, and neither had her mother been part of it. Mary had been well into her fifties by that time, and had probably considered herself too old; she recalled that her mother had joined the Mothers' Union. A Young Wives' group . . . now there was a thought . . .

She decided to broach the idea, tentatively, to Joan before mentioning it to her husband. ‘There's nothing really for the younger women, is there?' she began.

‘No, not really,' said Joan, ‘but as I've told you, they're too busy in other ways, especially those with children. There's a crèche, though, on Sunday mornings, so that they can attend the morning service if they wish to. The young mothers take it in turns to look after the kiddies in the church hall. It seems to work quite well. We've actually had a few husbands coming along to the services as well, since your Simon came on the scene. Before that I'm afraid it was a mainly elderly congregation, and mostly women, apart from the few men who were actively involved.'

‘Like Mr Bayliss and Mr Fowler, and your husband, of course?'

‘Yes, and a few more who were on the church council. But we've got several younger men now who are very helpful. There's Graham Heap; he works in a bank and he volunteered to be our treasurer. And jolly good one he is as well. Now, he's the exception to the rule; he attends church regularly but we don't see his wife very much. She's called Gillian, and he brings her along on special occasions, but apart from that she seems to keep herself to herself.'

Fiona was thoughtful for a moment. ‘There may be others as well, like her, who would come along if there was something to interest them.' She laughed a little uneasily. ‘I mustn't say that to Simon! I know he makes the services as interesting as he can but – well, you know what I mean – something else, a more social occasion where younger women could get to know one another, then they might be encouraged to come along to Sunday services. Those who don't already attend, I mean! This Gillian – she's quite young, I take it? I know who Graham is, and Simon thinks very highly of him as the treasurer.'

‘Yes; Gillian's in her late thirties I would say, the same as Graham. She works at the hospital, in the office. There again, afternoons would be out for her.'

‘Actually, I was thinking more of an evening meeting,' said Fiona. ‘Has no one ever thought of forming a Young Wives' group? I'm surprised Simon hasn't mooted the idea. Or his first wife . . . er . . . Millicent?'

‘Oh, she was heart and soul in the Mothers' Union,' said Joan. ‘I don't suppose it occurred to her. Yes . . . it might not be a bad idea. Have you mentioned it to Simon?'

‘No, I've only just thought of it. I told you, I'm scared to death of treading on Mrs B's toes, and this would be something different, just for the younger women. She couldn't get her claws into that, could she?'

Joan laughed. ‘She might well try! No, quite seriously I don't think she would dare. I think it's a brilliant idea. There's just one snag though . . . The word “wives”. We don't want to exclude the young women who are not married, do we?'

‘No, of course not,' said Fiona. ‘But it doesn't need to be a problem, does it? The Mothers' Union doesn't exclude women who aren't mothers does it? Millicent wasn't one, and neither is Miss Parker, and there must be others. Perhaps we could call it the Young Wives and Friends' group, like they do at the schools. It's usually called the PTFA now isn't it – parents, teachers and friends – instead of PTA as it used to be?'

‘Actually, it was a teacher I was thinking of,' said Joan. ‘Ruth Makepeace; she's a widow now, so she has been a wife; but I wouldn't want her to feel she wasn't welcome, especially as her friend, Heather, would no doubt come along.'

‘Ruth . . . yes,' said Fiona thoughtfully. ‘I've not got to know her very well. She seems rather shy, although I don't see why she should be. She has an important post at the school, hasn't she?'

‘Yes, she's in charge in the Infant department. It doesn't follow though that she should be just as confident in the company of older people. Yes, Ruth is rather reticent at times. It will be a good chance for you to get to know her better; for us all to get to know one another better.' Joan clasped her hand. ‘You go for it, girl! I'm sure Simon will be delighted that you've come up with such a good idea.'

Their conversation was interrupted by Mrs Bayliss appearing at their table. She sat down, leaning towards Fiona and smiling in a friendly but still rather condescending way. ‘We're so pleased you've come along to our little meeting today, dear,' she said. ‘Have you enjoyed it?'

‘Very much so, Mrs Bayliss,' said Fiona. ‘I was rather ignorant about the Mothers' Union, I must admit. I can see now what a worthwhile organization it is for the possibly . . . more mature women; mature in age, I mean. I noticed it doesn't seem to attract the younger element.'

‘Oh, they could come along if they wished to; they would be made welcome just as you have been, my dear,' said Mrs Bayliss airily. ‘But they're mainly tied up with other concerns – looking after their children, of course – and they might well find us a little too . . . er . . . traditional in outlook, but that's how the members like it.'

‘Perhaps so,' replied Fiona. ‘Maybe if I could persuade some of the younger women to come along we could start to look at some things differently. Liven the meetings up a bit. More modern hymns perhaps, for a start?' Fiona really had little intention of doing so. She knew she was being rather naughty, but she had felt herself bristling at the way the older woman had so condescendingly called her ‘dear'. It wouldn't do any harm for her to wonder if she was about to be ousted from her position of authority. ‘I understand that my predecessor, Millicent, was in charge until she died so suddenly,' she continued. ‘I know that Simon was very grateful to you for taking over in the absence of a rector's wife.'

‘Oh, I was no stranger to the job,' replied Mrs Bayliss hurriedly. ‘I'd done it for several years after the old rector's wife passed away, until Millicent came. Of course she was much older than you are, dear, and she very quickly got into the way of how we run things. You will find that the ladies will not want to go along with newfangled ideas . . . But we do hope that you will join us again sometime, Mrs Norwood.'

‘Yes, I certainly will.' Fiona smiled agreeably. ‘And I shall make sure I know the prayer next time.'

‘Oh yes; I'm so sorry, dear. I didn't mean to put you in a spot. I felt sure your husband would have put you in the picture.'

‘Well, he didn't,' smiled Fiona. ‘I shall have words with him when I get home.'

‘Don't be too cross with him, dear.' Mrs Bayliss looked at her reprovingly. ‘He is a very busy man, you know.'

‘Yes, I do know,' countered Fiona. ‘Don't worry, I was only joking.'

‘Well, you took the wind out of her sails, all right,' commented Joan as Mrs Bayliss left them.

‘I had my tongue in my cheek,' said Fiona, grinning. ‘I shall be as nice as pie the next time I see her to make up for it. I just wanted to give her something to think about. I say . . . do you think I should give them a hand in the kitchen with the washing and all that?'

‘No, why should you?' said Joan. ‘You're an honoured guest today. Besides, they have a rota; it's my turn next time. Mrs B is always there though, to make sure that things are done properly. You could go and have a word with the speaker, though. I'm sure she would be delighted to meet the rector's wife.'

‘Oh, glory be!' Fiona laughed. ‘I still haven't got used to my official role. To tell you the truth, I haven't really known many clergy wives, and I feel that I don't quite fit the bill.' She was remembering, suddenly, the vicar's wife back in Leeds, Hannah Cruikshank, her mother's great friend and mentor. She hastily pushed the unwelcome thought to the back of her mind.

‘Don't talk daft!' said Joan. ‘You're great; just what we needed. Off you go and do your duty.'

The lady from the local flower club, aptly named Mrs Gardner, was, indeed, delighted to talk with Fiona. She was sitting with Mrs Fowler and Mrs Halliwell; and they all smiled welcomingly as Fiona sat down at their table.

‘What a refreshing change to meet such a young and pretty vicar's wife,' said Mrs Gardner. ‘I've done quite a few talks in the area, and at all the churches and chapels I've visited the clergy are near retiring age, and their wives too, of course. That's not meant as a criticism – we all get older eventually, don't we? – but I'm sure the congregation here must be delighted with you.'

‘Yes, so we are,' said Blanche Fowler, patting Fiona's hand. ‘We're very pleased you've come along today . . . Fiona.' Her smile and her comments were obviously sincere, and Fiona felt a lump in her throat at such unexpected praise.

‘Yes, you're doing very well, my dear,' said Mrs Halliwell, and this time Fiona did not find the use of the word at all patronizing. After all, these women, on the whole, were thirty years older than she was, even more, and she must seem like a schoolgirl to many of them. It was up to her to prove that it was not so; that she was a mature woman with her own ideas.

‘Well, how did you get on, darling?' asked Simon, greeting her with a kiss as she came through the door.

‘All right, I think,' she replied. ‘Most of the women made me welcome, and I enjoyed the flower demonstration. But I didn't know the Mothers' Union prayer, and I felt such a fool, Simon.'

‘Oh dear! Sorry . . .' he said. ‘I forgot all about it. I don't go to the meetings all that often. Sometimes I'm invited to give a talk, but apart from that I leave them alone. How did you get on with Mrs B?'

Fiona didn't answer for a moment. Then, ‘Listen, Simon,' she began. ‘It would never work, me taking over that enrolling member thing. She resents me, I know she does.'

‘Oh, come on now, love. I'm sure she doesn't resent you. She doesn't like change, that's all. She was the same when Millicent took over, but she very soon realized it was the way it had to be.'

‘But it's different now, Simon. She's already pointed out to me that Millicent was a lot older than I am, and presumably much more capable. No, I could never get her to give up her position for me, nor do I want to. Look, come and sit down. I'll make us a cup of tea, then I'll tell you all about it. I've had an idea . . .'

Simon listened as she told him about the idea she had already discussed with Joan. ‘Provided you agree, of course,' she said. ‘You're the boss! I'm afraid I was rather naughty, though. I may have given the impression to Mrs B that I would like to see a few changes. Honestly, Simon; those hymns! “Fight the good fight” and “Jesus shall reign where e're the sun”. They came out of the ark! We used to sing “Jesus shall reign” at day school; every Monday, I seem to remember.'

‘That's probably why they choose these old hymns,' answered Simon. ‘They're familiar and easy to sing, never mind that the words might be rather archaic. Good old “Ancient and Modern”.'

‘Ancient and stodgy, more like!' retorted Fiona. ‘Sorry, Simon. I'm being contrary, aren't I? It wasn't all that bad. I told you, I quite enjoyed it. Mrs Fowler and Mrs Halliwell were really nice to me. Blanche actually called me Fiona. I feel I've made a breakthrough there. But it's Mrs Bayliss; she rubs me up the wrong way and I don't want to make things worse. She'll have to stay in charge . . . please, Simon.'

‘Of course, darling; I understand. I would never make you do anything you're not sure about. And this idea of yours about a Young Wives' group; I think it's really great. I can't think why nobody's thought of it before.'

‘Probably because they're all too busy, that's why. And they would have needed somebody to take the lead, which I'm willing to do. I feel it would be something new and different, and it might attract some of the younger women who are not really involved at the moment.'

‘You mean we should include those who are not regular church attenders? I'm all for that. My one quarrel with the Mothers' Union – although I would never dare to say so – is that it's rather a closed shop, for church members only. There's just one little problem though, Fiona. The word “wives”; that would be making it too exclusive, wouldn't it? We don't want anybody to feel that they're not wanted.'

‘We've already thought of that, Joan and I,' said Fiona. ‘We thought it could be Young Wives and Friends. That would include anyone, single ladies or widows. Joan mentioned Ruth Makepeace. She would probably come along with Heather Milner; I've noticed they're very good friends.'

‘Yes, we must certainly include Ruth,' said Simon. ‘She's such a good worker for the church. I don't know how she manages to cope with being secretary to the church council as well as her job at the school.'

‘She has no husband to look after; maybe that's why,' observed Fiona. ‘She's a war widow, isn't she?'

‘Yes, her husband was killed in the D-Day landings; it was very tragic; they hadn't been married very long. I didn't know her then, of course. It was after we came to the parish that she took on the secretary's job, so I . . . well, Millicent and I . . . got to know her quite well.'