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Authors: Maggie Bennett
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against telling Violet, it would only kick up a further rumpus. But he wondered, like Miss Daniells, what the world was coming to.
On the fourth Sunday of each month, the morning service at St Peter’s was followed by the sacrament of Holy Communion to those members of the congregation who wished to receive it. Mrs Munday decided that it was a good time for the whole family to partake of it, Grace having been confirmed at Easter; both she and Ernest might obtain benefit from it, their mother thought. Accordingly they all stayed behind and moved up to the altar rail where they knelt with about a score of others while the Rev. Mr Saville recited the prayer of consecration, and the bread and wine having been blessed as representing Christ’s body and blood, he moved along the line of communicants, administering a small cube of bread into the cupped hands of each, uttering the traditional words over them. He was followed by Mr Storey, holding the chalice from which each communicant took a sip of wine. Ernest said his ‘Amen’ with fervour, for his thoughts were in such a turmoil of anxiety that he did not notice the slight disturbance when the curate moved on to Isabel who knelt next to him. His college days were over, and he was qualified and unemployed. What was he todo? His mother was now advising him to take any job on offer, no matter how menial, while waiting for something better to come up. For instance, Mr Graves needed somebody to keep a watchful eye on his coal yard, and deal with the orders that came in to his grimy little office. Ernest shuddered, but now was no time to be choosy; he would go and see Mr Graves tomorrow.
Meanwhile it was a hot August day, and after the usual Sunday roast dinner, Ernest walked to the Bible study group at Mr Woodman’s. Should he ask them to pray for him at some point? To pray that he might be shown the path he was to take, both now and in the future?
When the Reverend Paul Woodman opened the door to him, Ernest felt his heart leap at the sight of his mentor, the young man for whom he’d felt such gratitude and affection as a boy. He knew that Paul, now in his late twenties, was an ordained Methodist minister, and that he had married; could there still be the old special understanding between them?
‘Ernest!’ cried Paul, taking his hand and shaking it warmly. ‘How good to see you! I’m visiting my parents – it’s my mother’s birthday, so I’ve come over with Rachael and our little daughter. You must meet them. But how are you, old chap? And what are you doing now?’
Before Ernest could answer, Mr Woodman came into the hall. ‘Come in, Ernest, come in!’ he beamed.‘We shall be holding our study group this afternoon as usual, but with the pleasure of having Paul with us. It will be just like old times!’
But not quite, thought Ernest, putting on a cordial expression and saying how happy he was to meet Rachael, a dark-haired young woman who greeted him with sharply observant eyes. A little girl of about two clung to her mother’s skirts and hid her face in their folds when Ernest awkwardly bent over to speak to her.
‘Rachael is not from a Christian family, but praise be to God, she has accepted Christ as her Saviour,’ said Paul, looking tenderly at her. ‘Lucy has been baptised in the faith, and we pray constantly that Mr and Mrs Schelling and Rachael’s brothers and sisters be brought to the foot of the Cross in the course of time.’
Ernest nodded, wondering if Rachael was a Roman Catholic; but no, they called themselves Christians, even though sadly misguided.
‘You may possibly meet some of them soon, Ernest, because Rachael’s uncle and another relative—’
‘His sister’s son, Aaron,’ Rachael put in.
‘That’s right, her uncle and his nephew, they’ve left London and have come to start up a business in Everham,’ continued Paul. ‘They’ve been working for an insurance firm in the city, but Mr Schelling feels that the time has
On the fourth Sunday of each month, the morning service at St Peter’s was followed by the sacrament of Holy Communion to those members of the congregation who wished to receive it. Mrs Munday decided that it was a good time for the whole family to partake of it, Grace having been confirmed at Easter; both she and Ernest might obtain benefit from it, their mother thought. Accordingly they all stayed behind and moved up to the altar rail where they knelt with about a score of others while the Rev. Mr Saville recited the prayer of consecration, and the bread and wine having been blessed as representing Christ’s body and blood, he moved along the line of communicants, administering a small cube of bread into the cupped hands of each, uttering the traditional words over them. He was followed by Mr Storey, holding the chalice from which each communicant took a sip of wine. Ernest said his ‘Amen’ with fervour, for his thoughts were in such a turmoil of anxiety that he did not notice the slight disturbance when the curate moved on to Isabel who knelt next to him. His college days were over, and he was qualified and unemployed. What was he todo? His mother was now advising him to take any job on offer, no matter how menial, while waiting for something better to come up. For instance, Mr Graves needed somebody to keep a watchful eye on his coal yard, and deal with the orders that came in to his grimy little office. Ernest shuddered, but now was no time to be choosy; he would go and see Mr Graves tomorrow.
Meanwhile it was a hot August day, and after the usual Sunday roast dinner, Ernest walked to the Bible study group at Mr Woodman’s. Should he ask them to pray for him at some point? To pray that he might be shown the path he was to take, both now and in the future?
When the Reverend Paul Woodman opened the door to him, Ernest felt his heart leap at the sight of his mentor, the young man for whom he’d felt such gratitude and affection as a boy. He knew that Paul, now in his late twenties, was an ordained Methodist minister, and that he had married; could there still be the old special understanding between them?
‘Ernest!’ cried Paul, taking his hand and shaking it warmly. ‘How good to see you! I’m visiting my parents – it’s my mother’s birthday, so I’ve come over with Rachael and our little daughter. You must meet them. But how are you, old chap? And what are you doing now?’
Before Ernest could answer, Mr Woodman came into the hall. ‘Come in, Ernest, come in!’ he beamed.‘We shall be holding our study group this afternoon as usual, but with the pleasure of having Paul with us. It will be just like old times!’
But not quite, thought Ernest, putting on a cordial expression and saying how happy he was to meet Rachael, a dark-haired young woman who greeted him with sharply observant eyes. A little girl of about two clung to her mother’s skirts and hid her face in their folds when Ernest awkwardly bent over to speak to her.
‘Rachael is not from a Christian family, but praise be to God, she has accepted Christ as her Saviour,’ said Paul, looking tenderly at her. ‘Lucy has been baptised in the faith, and we pray constantly that Mr and Mrs Schelling and Rachael’s brothers and sisters be brought to the foot of the Cross in the course of time.’
Ernest nodded, wondering if Rachael was a Roman Catholic; but no, they called themselves Christians, even though sadly misguided.
‘You may possibly meet some of them soon, Ernest, because Rachael’s uncle and another relative—’
‘His sister’s son, Aaron,’ Rachael put in.
‘That’s right, her uncle and his nephew, they’ve left London and have come to start up a business in Everham,’ continued Paul. ‘They’ve been working for an insurance firm in the city, but Mr Schelling feels that the time has
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