The Old Manor stands in the middle of the
village and is the oldest surviving building and it was the home of Andrew
Lane, his wife Violet and their six unmarried daughters, Emma, Dorset, Hilary,
Heather, Rosie and Merri.
Andrew and Violet loved their children very
much but as they reached the time in their lives when they were nearing their
sixties they had expectations for their daughters.
For Violet her hopes involved the
grandchildren that were not forthcoming whereas Andrew just wanted them to
spread their wings, but as Spring loomed there was no sign of either of them
getting their wish, however they were a religious family, so the power of
prayer was a wonderful thing and both parents prayed for their daughters.
The sweetest of
whom was 20-year-old Heather and the reason she was unattached was that she
wasn’t sure that there was anyone worthy enough for her give up her good works
for.
She was a
shining girl, intelligent but not academically so, but she was inclined towards
an unquenchable sense of public duty.
Not that she
didn’t occasionally take time out to look for “the one” but she failed to
locate him on the occasions when she did.
She was
arguably the prettiest of the Lane girls, in fact Heather was very attractive
but not showily so, very feminine, brunette and petite, and everyone who knew
her was surprised that she had never had a steady boyfriend and since the time
in year ten at school when she bloomed she had run the gauntlet of well-meaning
friends, throwing what they considered to be suitable candidates in her path,
but she side stepped them all.
There was
something special in her nature, a simple goodness, she believed in goodness
and not surprisingly, everlasting life and of course good and evil.
The problem
with finding “the one” was that she was too fussy, apart from him needing to be
tall and dark, “the one” needed to meet her usual criteria, handsome, kind,
loving and be true of heart.
But in
addition, she was searching for someone with a moral compass, a practicing
Christian naturally, a church goer at least occasionally, though not someone
permanently on their knees, a devout man but not a pious one.
She wanted a
man who was worldly but not tainted, attractive but not vain, masculine but
possessed of modesty.
A man with good
dress sense, free of tattoos and body piercings, well mannered, and
gentlemanly, definitely not someone who drank from a bottle.
However, with
every passing week Heather had become convinced she was looking for someone who
didn’t really exist.
At the
beginning of Lent a new Choirmaster, Patrick Coad, arrived at St Agatha’s from
nearby Sharpington after their existing musical director had a heart attack,
and over the following weeks she realized that he met most, if not all, of her
criteria, plus he was blessed with great kindness, a quality in her opinion
unfailingly, underappreciated in the modern world, which was a quality that she
had not bargained for.
But she soon
dismissed him as a prospect and cleared him off her radar, firstly because he
was seven years older than her, although that, in itself, was not a deal
breaker, but he also spent a lot of time away from the village and was quite
secretive about where he went.
Patrick too was
searching, he was searching for a woman who shared his faith and who put others
before themselves, a good woman and he had sought her all of his life and he
had met several possible contenders over the years, not unsurprisingly given
the fact that he was a significant member of the church and well respected
among the ecclesiastical music field, but the ones who caught his eye always
fell short of his ideals, so he ended up walking the righteous path alone.
He found
several members of the choir met his criteria and none more so than Heather but
that did not influence his decision to give her the solo, at the Easter
service.
From the moment
he arrived at St Agatha’s it was obvious she was the go-to girl when it was
time for a soloist he could rely on, and her work ethic was exceptional, and he
pushed her to her limits with each additional performance.
But as Easter
approached, they had to intensify the rehearsals, as at the beginning of Holy
week, her sister Hilary, who was also the church organist, tripped down the
church steps and broke her arm.
Hilary was a
very accomplished musician, and it took a couple of days phoning around the
county to find someone of a decent enough standard to fill her shoes, luckily,
they managed to find Wayne Challen who had just completed his master’s at
Abbottsford.
But even though
they found someone relatively quickly and of a suitable standard they still
lost two days’ rehearsal which was time that had to be made up.
Everyone
involved gave total commitment and worked diligently to make up for lost time
and when it got to the evening of Maundy Thursday there was only Heather’s Good
Friday solo that they had to polish, neither her or Patrick were in the best of
moods as neither of them had intended to still be practicing that late into
Holy week and they both had somewhere else they needed to be, and they didn’t
want to be late.
Patrick made
them even later when he insisted on her doing it one more time, and he did that
because he became mesmerised by her angelic voice and was struck for the first
time by the fact that not only did, she sound like an angel, but she looked
like one as well.
However, stand
in Organist Wayne Challen called a halt to proceedings when Patrick asked to go
again.
“I don’t think
that’s necessary, it’s getting late, and you can’t improve on perfection”
“No, you’re
quite right” he agreed with his eyes still fixed on Heather
“Oh no” she
said looking at her watch “Look at the time”
“Somewhere to
be?” Patrick asked
“Yes” she
replied and put her coat on but didn’t elaborate.
He supposed she
must have a date or something equally frivolous, and then he looked at his own
watch.
“Oh, dear it is
rather late” he said, “Do you have somewhere to be as well?” she asked as he
put his own coat on
“Yes, I do” he
replied, “and I particularly wanted to be there on time”
“Oh, yes? What
is it a new restaurant?” she asked
“Of a sort” he
replied
“What about
you?” Patrick asked as they left the church “Do you have a date?”
“Certainly not”
she said with afront “I have more important things to do with my time”
“Well, I’ll see
you tomorrow at the service” he said as he was digesting her answer
“Quite so” she
agreed “I hope you make it on time”
“You too” he
replied and walked to his car as she headed in the opposite direction.
As she lived so
close she was fed, showered, changed and on her way out the door before Patrick
had even reached his front door in Pipershaven.
When he did, he
closed the door behind him and went straight to the kitchen and made himself a
sandwich.
He ate it far
too quickly to be good for him, in fact he was still chewing as he stepped into
the shower and as he did so he knew he would have heartburn for the rest of the
night.
He dried
himself and dressed in warm clothes and was then on his way.
He drove into
town and parked in the multi-story and checked his watch as he hurriedly walked
toward his destination, as he was twenty minutes late.
He looked
through the window and saw it was quite busy, and a queue had formed so he
walked around to the side door and walked in and undid his coat, and as he did,
he said
“I’m terribly
sorry I’m so late I was unavoidably detained”
“Well, they all
say that” Heather said as she turned around and Patrick smiled when he saw that
it was his angel.
And at that
moment they both realized that their mutual searches for “the one” had come to
an end and it happened at the Pipershaven soup kitchen.
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