Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (04) The Reverend Edwards Daughter (Part 01)
Katie Edwards was the daughter of the Vicar of St Hilda’s in Forestdean and Mark Holt was the village “Jack the Lad” and apart from them both being 28 years old, they had nothing in common whatsoever.
Katie was a good Christian girl, whose life revolved around her widowed fathers Church and the associated parochial duties, Mark on the other hand was an agnostic, albeit a church going agnostic, but above all he was an unashamed hedonist.
Katie was steady, diligent, and chaste and was an innocent but Mark had no morals whatsoever but to his mind that was more than compensated for by a belt full of female scalps.
However all of that however seemed set to change when Mark was walking through the village one rainy morning.
“Hi Katie” he said
Katie Edwards was a very attractive young woman by any measure, with a warm open manner, a willowy figure, and shoulder length brunette hair, intelligent green laughing eyes and a broad toothy smile and altogether a very pleasant demeanour.
“Hello Mark” she replied “What’s brought you out into the rain”
Mark was tall, dark and muscular with wild gypsy eyes.
“I’m avoiding mum,” he said trying to keep a straight face, Katie gave an understanding nod
“The Miss Devonshire’s” she replied “it’s their turn to do the flowers” and she bowed her head with shame.
“I think we need to be fortified,” he said
“The Royal Oak?” she suggested
“I thought you were barred for calling the landlord a godless heathen,” he queried
“A simple misunderstanding” she assured him “I’ve forgiven him”
Due to the inclement weather the pub was almost deserted so they sat and unloaded their burdens on each other.
Mark detailed the haranguing his mother gave him for getting home at 3 am in a state of inebriation and she talked about how the Miss Devonshire’s were making her life a misery.
To make her feel better Mark revealed some rather unsavoury gossip about her protagonists which made Katie feel much better as did the Guinness.
The alcohol also aided Katie to reveal more and more about herself and the more she drank the more she rambled.
The Guinness helped her speak a lot about time and sand running through her fingers and choices and not knowing.
He couldn’t really follow her train of thought all the time, the drink wasn’t helping and as neither of them had eaten since breakfast the beer took its toll very quickly and two hours later they were fortified as newts and he had to steer her through the pouring rain to the vicarage, and thankfully the rain was falling so hard that no one noticed their drunken progression.
Once he reached the front door he had to wedge her against the wall while he opened the door, unfortunately as the door swung open she fell into the hall.
Mark instinctively reached out and grabbed her in an effort to prevent her from hurting herself.
Unfortunately in trying to avoid grabbing anything intimate he only succeeded in falling to the floor before she did.
As a result Mark landed on his back and she landed on top of him.
“You know Mark if I wasn’t the Vicar’s daughter I’d shag you” she slurred before planting an almost Labrador like kiss on his mouth.
“And if I wasn’t a gentleman” he said after extricating himself from her embrace “I’d let you”
And then he struggled to his feet and helped Katie to do the same but as soon as she was vertical she said
“But you’re not a gentleman so there’s nothing stopping you”
And launched another assault on him and even put his hand on her breast before Mark regained control and steered her through the hall and into the sitting room and plopped her into an armchair and she immediately grabbed him by the lapels and planted another kiss on his mouth, a much more controlled and unhurried kiss than before.
He wondered as he was starting to reciprocate if she thought that having sex with a philanderer like him was sin free, making him like a vegetable in a slimmer’s diet plan, and then he broke away from her embrace again.
“But you are the Vicar’s daughter” he replied and kissed her on the forehead
“And you’re drunk” he added
“What’s that got to do with it?” she slurred
“Everything, because you wouldn’t want to shag me if you were sober”
“Oh yes I would” she said after he left.