Chapel on Sunday

The next day was Sunday giving Esther little opportunity to dwell on
her experience. From the moment that she tumbled out of bed and inched
her way downstairs she was under the watchful and suspicious gaze of
Aunt Emmy.
Sarah was already sitting at the kitchen table, eating her porridge.
Whatever happened to Sarah she never failed to enjoy her food. Esther
sat down opposite making sure that their eyes did not meet.
"So, her royal highness has arisen to grace us with her presence,"
said her Aunt, sarcastically.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Emmy," said Esther. "I didn't sleep well and just
couldn't rouse myself this morning."
"A bad night's sleep suggests a guilty conscience," declared Aunt
Emmy. "Is there anything you have to feel guilty about?" Her eyes
narrowed and it seemed to drill into Emmy's soul. Terrified of giving
herself away she took a deep breath and defiantly returned her Aunt's
penetrating stare.
"No, Aunt. Nothing at all."
"It's a rare soul that bears no stain," said Aunt Emmy. "Think
carefully before you kneel to pray this morning, my girl. There is one
who will notice the slightest blemish on your character."
Aunt Emmy brusquely set down a bowl of porridge in front of her. A skin
had formed on its surface making it even less appealing that usual. But
Esther knew that she had to make an effort or more questions would
follow. She slowly began to spoon it into her mouth where it seemed to
set like mortar.
Sarah had already finished her porridge. She would have like another
helping but knew that her Aunt would call her greedy if she asked. She
looked hungrily at her sister's bowl. If only they were left alone
she'd finish hers off too and do them both a favour.
"As soon as you're finished," their Aunt told them. "Do the washing up
and then prepare the vegetables for dinner. I shall be in the parlour
practising for this morning's service."
The sisters waited until they heard the harmonium wheezing into life
before they swapped their bowls. They didn't trust their Aunt not to
slip back unexpectedly to catch them out. Esther gave up her porridge
willingly. It seemed to have solidified in the bottom of the bowl but
Sarah made short work of it.
"So, what's wrong with you?" she asked.
"I'm fine. I just didn't sleep very well,"
"Are you sickening for something?"
"I'm fine."
"Don't tell me, then," said Sarah and applied herself to polishing of
the last few spoonfuls of porridge. "I'll wash, you dry!" she declared
brightly. As the senior, Esther usually felt obliged to take charge but
this morning she had no energy to argue with her sister. As they worked
Sarah chattered away as usual and didn't seem to notice that Esther
didn't take part in the conversation. When the washing up was done they
peeled potatoes and sliced carrots in silence. Esther finally took
charge at the stove, banking up the fire with damp slack so that the
meal would be cooked by the time they arrived back from chapel.

&;#353;
Tom always got up late on Sundays knowing that Fred Towers wouldn't
stir until noon, at the earliest. Apart from a few jobs he had to do
the day was his own. In the yard he took a few deep breaths and
stretched the tiredness out of his bones. He looked up at the sky and
decided it was going to be a fine day. There was a real Indian Summer
feeling about it; Autumn was being told to wait in the wings for a bit
longer. His father would have said it was the sort of day when you felt
glad to be alive. On a day like today, Tom decided, he just had to get
out of town. He'd take his fishing rod and go down to the canal. He
knew there was good sport to be had from the wharf beyond Lime Kiln
Bridge. After dark, he might go somewhere else for even more valuable
game.
Entering the stables to feed and water the horses he remembered the
Gallanty Man and his wife billeted in the hayloft above. There was
neither sound nor sight of them this morning. Tom wondered if they'd
moved on despite their promise to perform another show on Monday. They
couldn't make much of a living from the show even with the old woman's
bottling skill; but travelling from place to place must make for a good
life. One day he'd step out and see the world. There had to be more to
life than The George Inn.
Thinking back to last night he was struck again by how quiet Esther had
been on the walk back to her house. He'd been too busy talking at the
time to notice but afterwards it had really hit him hard. Something had
knocked her off her stride, all right. Maybe it was the excitement of
the show. Esther was just the sort to get carried away by something
like that. That Aunt of hers didn't allow much excitement apart from
hymn singing and Bible-bashing. Esther had a lot of imagination and not
much chance to exercise it.
They'd known each other all their lives but recently he'd begun to
wonder if he really knew her at all. Like last night, even though she'd
clammed up all the way home he sensed she'd had something to say. Maybe
she just didn't want to say it to him. He couldn't help feeling
miserable at the thought of her growing away from him.
One of the jobs he had to do was to check on Molly, the old drayhorse,
who had been lifting her hoof the day before. He loved this old mare
who had such a sweet temper and was never difficult or unpredictable
like some of the other horses he dealt with. She did her job without
complaining, loyally serving her masters.
He began by gently patting her flank and then moved down to her hind
leg, lifting the hoof to get a closer look. She leaned against him as
he inspected the hoof giving off a warm, sweet, comforting smell. She
made no protest as he scraped away at her hoof with his pick. She'd
lost a couple of nails from the shoe that had then worked loose. Tom
knew he wouldn't get her shod on a Sunday but so long as it was done
first thing on Monday she wouldn't suffer much more discomfort. He
gently lowered the hoof, patted her a few more times and found a slice
of turnip to give her.
"Don't you worry, old gal," he said quietly. "I'll have you down to the
blacksmith's first thing in the morning. Nobody's going to work you
today so just enjoy your day of rest."
There was a rustling noise from upstairs where the Gallanty Man and his
wife were stirring. Tom decided that he'd used up enough of his Sunday
already without spending time talking to the Gallanty Man. He'd be sure
to see him later. Just now it was the open country that called
him.

&;#353;
What Esther enjoyed most about chapel was the singing. She just loved
to lose herself in the choruses they sang and this morning, more than
ever, she wanted to do just that. She wanted to drive away her
confusion and find peace.

This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Saviour all the day long;
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Saviour all the day long.

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!
Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood.

This was one of her favourites. She loved its sweeping tune that seemed
to lift you up in its arms, like being wrapped in a great warm cloak.
When they sang about Angels descending bring from above, Echoes of
mercy, whispers of love she imagined the chapel roof opening like the
covers of a enormous book and heavenly creatures drifting down as soft
and as snowflakes.
During the prayers and Bible-readings she found it harder to stop her
mind from wandering back to the Gallanty Man's show. The white-washed
walls of the chapel shone in the autumn sunshine and when Mr Hampden
stood up to give witness her imagination couldn't help turning him into
one of the showman's figures. Stomping about on the platform and waving
his arms like a puppet she pictured the Gallanty Man working him from
underneath. Even his high, rasping voice reminded her of Billy Waters
the London Beggar. He seemed to spit out his words as if they had made
a foul taste in his mouth as he gave an account of his life of sin.
Esther found it hard to believe that he could have been such a bad man.
She had known him all her life and remembered how kind he had been to
her and Sarah after their parents had died. When he talked of being
saved through the love of the Lord Jesus he softened his voice and
stroked the words as if they were a favourite pets.
Esther reckoned he gave as good a show as Billy Waters but immediately
felt guilty at having such a thought in chapel. She was relieved when
Mr Hamden ended his witness and they were singing again. Her guilty
conscience struggled a little when they got to the third verse,
however, and she remembered Aunt Emmy's words about someone seeing
all.

Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind;
Sight, riches, healing of the mind,
Yea, all I need in Thee to find,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

&;#353;

Sunday dinner was a solemn occasion in Aunt Emmy's house. It was as if
she felt obliged by custom to provide a substantial meal but secretly
resented it and showed her resentment by refusing to display the
slightest pleasure. Esther and Sarah took their cue from her and ate in
silence. This atmosphere curbed even Sarah's usual exuberant approach
to food
In the afternoon the sisters went to Sunday School where Esther acted
as a monitor. As well as making sure that Sarah didn't get up to any
mischief and bring disgrace to her name, Aunt Emmy decided it was a
perfect occupation for a young Christian. As her Aunt so often reminded
her: "An idle brain is the Devil's workshop."
Not even Aunt Emmy could put a damper on these Sunday afternoons for
Esther. There were stories to read, exciting tales of Daniel in the
Lion's Den or Jonah and the Whale. She tried hard to make these stories
come alive for her the younger children audience, delighted to see
their mouths fall open in wonder. There was more singing too - Bringing
in the Sheaves or Tell Me The Old, Old Story. Sometimes, if the weather
was fine, they might go on a nature walk, collecting flowers, leaves,
or fruits from the fields and hedgerows. They would learn the names of
birds and to how recognise them from their songs. The wonder of God's
creation was all around them.
Tom knew all about these things having learned them from his father who
could tell you the name of any plant or creature that you found. He
could tell you stories about them too. These were not Bible stories but
old tales that had been passed down from one generation to the next.
There was something magical about these tales that seemed to take you
back in time. Tom had never been a keen a chapelgoer and now there was
no one around to make him attend. Esther knew that a fine day like this
would have drawn him out to the countryside that he loved.

&;#353;

"Mrs Bullen was telling me about this Gallanty Show you got so excited
about after this morning's service," said Aunt Emmy as they sat down at
the tea table.
"You mean she saw it?" asked Sarah incredulously.
"Of course not," snapped her Aunt. "But Mr Brown, who lodges with her,
happened to pass through the Market Square during his evening
constitutional and stopped to watch for a while."
Esther swallowed her tea a little too quickly and nearly choked. She
knew Mr Brown and he knew her. He was sure to have recognised her last
night. Was this what Aunt Emmy was leading up to?
"By all accounts it was a thoroughly tawdry exhibition. There was
nothing at all uplifting or improving about it. It was simply a lot of
tomfoolery. I was quite right to stop you going."
Esther noticed a self-satisfied expression drift across Aunt Emmy's
face. . She wanted to feel relieved that her disobedience had not been
exposed but she kept her guard up a little longer. Her Aunt was quite
capable of holding back to increase the effectiveness of the final
blow.
It was her sister who broke the silence." Aunt Emmy," she asked.
"What's happened to the people?"
"What people?"
"Them that went to see the show."
"You mean 'those who went to see it'," corrected her aunt.
"Well, what's happened to those?"
"I really don't understand your question," said Aunt Emmy.
"Have they taken that twopenny ride to Hell yet?"
Esther couldn't resist a smile at her sister's innocent mockery
although she was careful to make sure that Aunt Emmy didn't see it. If
only she knew. If only either of them knew. She had a strange feeling
in the pit of her stomach like something heavy and threatening was
lurking there ready to burst out at any minute. She had to tell someone
soon!

&;#353;

By the time they came out of the evening service a twilight gloom had
descended on the town. Smoke was drifting from chimneys and lingering
around street corners. Esther wondered where the Gallanty Man and his
missus were now. She knew they wouldn't risk a performance on a Sunday;
besides, he'd said they were to be there again on Monday night. She
imagined them snug and warm in their hayloft or sitting in the bar of
The George entertaining the locals with tales of their life on the
road.
As they turned into the Market Square Esther walked straight into her
worst nightmare. There, on the steps of the Corn Market, sat the
Gallanty Man and his wife. The smoke from their busy pipes was caught
by the last rays of the setting sun casting haloes around their heads.
Esther was sure that they were waiting for her. Her shameful secret
would be revealed.
If Aunt Emmy had seen the odd couple she kept it to herself.. Nothing
checked her determined stride or diverted her eyes from the road ahead.
She did move protectively to the outside of the path, however, placing
herself between this odd-looking couple and her nieces.
"Fine evening," said the Gallanty Man as they drew alongside.
Aunt Emmy ignored the greeting.
"Fine evening for a walk to clear the head," the Gallanty Man tried
again.
Esther reddened with guilt and embarrassment. She could only hope that
the deepening gloom hid this badge of shame. But the showman was Tom's
friend and he'd been so kind to her last night. It felt like a double
betrayal not to return his friendly greeting. Commonsense whispered
urgently in her ear that even a single word would risk the awful truth
coming out and that would mean answering to Aunt Emmy.
"Fine evening for those whose heads need clearing," said the Gallanty
Man without a trace of irritation at not getting a reply.
Esther allowed herself a glance in his direction and was rewarded with
a knowing wink.

&;#353;

Nothing was said about the odd-looking couple. Aunt Emmy felt that any
comment would dignify them beyond their rightful station and Sarah
swallowed the questions that filled her head somehow knowing that the
time was not right. After supper the sisters dutifully kissed their
Aunt goodnight and went upstairs.
Settling her Sarah into bed, Esther made her mind up. She couldn't
survive another moment without telling her sister what had happened
last night.
"Will you tell me a story?" Sarah asked.
"I'll tell you a new story, a true story," Esther replied. She took a
deep breath; there was no going back now. "There was once a girl who
was usually a very good girl but one day she was tempted to do
something really, really bad."
"She's a naughty girl, something bad happens to her, she learns her
lesson and she'll never do wrong again," said Sarah irritably. "I don't
like those stories. I like stories with adventure and magic."
"This one will have lots of magic and adventure," Esther reassured her
sister. "I promise you that. "
Sarah was placated a little and she snuggled down beneath the
blankets.
"What was it that she did that was so really, really bad," she
asked.
"She had been forbidden to go out but the temptation was too great for
her to resist."
"Why? What was so tempting that she had to go out?"
"She went to see a Gallanty Show," said Esther quietly.
Sarah's jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Neither of them spoke for a
long time until Sarah stuttered, "You mean . . .?"
"Yes," said Esther and she began to tell the whole story of what had
happened the previous night. Sarah listened with rapt attention, not
interrupting, asking no questions until the end.
"Is it true?"
"I've still got the sweet paper and the flower in my room," said
Esther.
"But where did they come from? I don't understand."
"Neither do I," said Esther. "I think the Gallanty Man could tell us
but I'm not sure he will. I think he enjoys being mysterious. He makes
me feel like I'm one of his puppets."
"But they're going to do another show tomorrow night?" asked
Sarah.
"Yes, before they move on."
"If we went -"
"How can we?" asked Esther.
"I want to have an adventure like yours. I want to! I want to!" Sarah
had jumped up and was bouncing on her bed.
Esther shushed her sister; the last thing they needed was Aunt Emmy
coming in to find out what was going on.
"It wasn't fun, you know. I was terrified most of the time."
"But you escaped," reasoned Sarah. "You got home. Just like they always
do in stories. They all live happily ever after."
"This isn't a story."
"It's not fair. You've had your adventure. Just because I'm the
youngest," Sarah was close to tears.
"Think about it. We haven't got a chance of going unless Aunt Emmy goes
out again tomorrow night. She never goes out on a Monday night, does
she?"
Sarah sank down into her bed and turned her face to the wall. Esther
thought she saw her shoulders shaking and a quiet sobbing sound.
"I'll try and think of something," she said stroking her sister's hair.
"I really will try."
A good night's sleep would transform her backinto her old self. The
last thing she wanted was Sarah making Aunt Emmy suspicious.
Alone in her room, Esther tried to untangle the mess of confusion that
surrounded her. It felt like Aunt Emmy's spring-cleaning, one job
leading to another and the more she worked at it the more muddled she
became. She knew she was right to caution Sarah about the dangers they
might face on another adventure. But just thinking about it filled her
with delight and dread. She felt strangely drawn to the Gallanty Man as
if he held some great secret that he would reveal to her alone. Tom
would know what to do; he could always sort things out. But why hadn't
she been able to tell him last night? He was her oldest and closest
friend but she had held back, unsure of how he would react. It felt
like another betrayal. She decided to find him tomorrow and tell him
everything.
Soon she was asleep but it was not a restful slumber. She slipped
between dreams that drew her further and further into
bewilderment.
She was spring-cleaning under the watchful gaze of Aunt Emmy; moving
the furniture in the parlour, pulling it away from the walls. But every
time she turned round it had moved back again. The harmonium started to
drone out a morbid tune and the doors to the sideboard slowly opened.
The soldier - the young soldier not the old decrepit one - lay there
with his arms across his chest. Aunt Emmy came in with a Union Flag and
draped it over the sideboard. Then she turned on Esther, blaming her
for the soldier's death. All he needed was a little kindness and
consideration and she had rebuffed him. The soldier climbed out of the
sideboard, took Aunt Emmy's arm and they left the room. When she was
alone Esther took up the carpet without disturbing the furniture like
the magician's trick. She began to sweep up the dust that had been
under the carpet but as she swept she couldn't find the floor. The dust
went further and further down and her sweeping made a deepening hole in
the earth. After a while she looked back and saw a tiny circle of light
at the surface with Aunt Emmy and Sarah looking down at her. She called
to them and tried to climb back out but the earth was too dry. It
crumbled away dragging her even further down. Then she was outside and
Tom was there. She felt a tremendous surge of relief. Tom would put
everything right. He was leaning on his shovel staring at her without
moving or speaking. This made her feel self-conscious; she must look a
sight from all that tunnelling. Then, without speaking, he turned and
began to load horse manure onto a handcart. It took no time at all to
fill up the cart and when it was full and he pushed it along a winding
road that took them far away from the town before turning in at a farm
gate. Tom began to unload his manure adding it to a pile that was
already enormous. Esther looked up to the top of the pile and saw the
Gallanty Man setting up his booth. He held out a hand and, despite the
great height of the pile, was able to reach her so that the next moment
she was with him at the summit of the dungheap. The Gallanty Man made a
grand gesture to indicate the view that could be seen from this summit.
The whole countryside spread out before them. He held out his other
hand that was tightly closed as if he were holding something very
precious. They exchanged looks and then the Gallanty Man slowly began
to open his fist.
Esther woke up suddenly and sat bolt upright in her bed.

&;#353;

The moon danced on the surface of the lake at Hassenden Hall. Tom
watched it from the shelter of a willow tree. The bubbling call of a
nightjar broke the silence but Tom paid it no heed. He was lost in his
thoughts, remembering other nights like this when his father had taught
him how to set snares and lure pheasants from their perches. "Just
tipping the scales a bit in our direction, old son," he'd say.
Soon he'd check his snares and head back to The George but for now he
would just enjoy being alone with his memories.