Fandango in the Apse! Page 7

  I wouldn’t have given a damn if it had taken a week to get where we were going; I was lost in the moment. A minute or so later the shadows of the trees gave way to late evening sunshine. I have to admit it was a spectacular sight. Before us lay the clearing, completely carpeted in Bluebells.

  ‘Oh, it’s lovely!’

  ‘Worth seeing?’ Father Michael asked.

  ‘Yes… thank you for bringing me here.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  Michael’s smiling eyes riveted me to the spot. Sexual chemistry silently ricocheted between us, it was impossible to ignore.

  ‘We’re in a dangerous situation here,’ I said at last.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘It’s wrong.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘We should leave.’

  ‘I know.’

  Neither of us moved an inch.

  ‘You’re a priest – I’m married.’

  ‘I know that! Don’t you think I know that?’

  Father Michael swung away and walked into the bluebells. I had no idea what to do, well… I did, I just didn’t want to do it, walking away now was impossible. I watched as he, hands in pockets, wrestled with his thoughts. Then his tense shoulders relaxed as he made his decision, he turned and walked back to me.

  ‘Come on, you’re right, we should go.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, but didn’t move.

  Two steps ahead Father Michael stopped and turned. The next minute I was in his arms. It’s difficult to explain – it was as if the dam of every dormant sexual urge he’d had over the years had burst. He was everywhere, I found myself on top of the bluebells with no idea of how I got there. At some point, he had shed both his clothes and mine, I was aware of him doing it, I just didn’t give a damn.

  Girls, I just have to describe him to you. His tall, toned frame was perfect. Broad shoulders tapered down to a firm stomach, blonde hair lightly covered his long legs and muscled thighs. Everything about him was perfection and I do mean, everything.

  The scent of crushed bluebells, the slight breeze, the silence of the woods save for a few birds getting ready to roost for the night, all added to the heady atmosphere. We stopped at nothing, both feeling everything had to be crammed into this one snatched moment. I’m sorry if I sound as if I’m waxing lyrical here, I suppose you had to be there to appreciate it, but I have to tell you, it was the single, most erotic experience of my life.

  Afterwards, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Telling you I was shell-shocked, would be an understatement. If I’d given it any serious thought beforehand, I suppose I would have expected some sort of unsophisticated fumbling from an inexperienced man of the cloth. It was a surprise to find this man of the cloth was no novice. I couldn’t help it, I had to ask.

  ‘Do you do this often Father?’ Oh… that didn’t sound right. I couldn’t keep calling him Father.

  ‘No, never.’ His voice was quiet, as if he’d been lost in thought.

  ‘But this wasn’t your first time?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘I had a life before I became a priest, Katie.’

  ‘Oh! So that must have made it harder.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Celibacy.’

  Michael sat up and began dressing, I followed suit.

  ‘I don’t know… maybe. I suppose it must be easier if you don’t know what you’re missing.’

  ‘Can I ask you a question?’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘How long have you been a priest?’

  ‘Just coming up for five years, I was twenty-eight when I was ordained, why?’

  ‘I just wondered, can I ask you another?

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Why this… now. Why me?’ Michael sighed heavily, dropping the boot he had been about to put on.

  ‘Katie, I wish I could explain, but I honestly don’t know. What’s happened is so wrong on so many levels, intellectually I know that. But, try telling that to my body. I’ve been attracted to you since I first saw you… you have beautiful eyes… expressive… warm, like molten chocolate. Your hair… your body, I think about you all the time…’ I wanted to purr like a kitten, his words made me feel squidgy inside. But I still had questions.

  ‘Have you ever been attracted to a woman before? We can’t choose who we’re attracted to, after all.’

  ‘No, we can’t, but we can choose what we do about it.’

  ‘Do you regret this Fa… I mean Michael?’

  ‘Honestly? Right now – no – later may be another story. What about you?’

  ‘The same.’

  We walked together to the edge of the wood then took opposite paths home. Saying goodbye was awkward, I mean let’s face it, what can you say? “Thanks for the hot sex in the bluebells Father, see you in confession next week.” No, I don’t think so…

  It was an interesting thought though, was it possible to confess to adultery and gain absolution from your partner in crime? Well, it made me chuckle anyway.

  In bed that night listening to Eddie’s snoring, I couldn’t help wondering what sort of retribution my wickedness would attract. The awful thing was, I couldn’t even use the need for revenge as an excuse – I hadn’t given Eddie a thought.

  By the following morning, guilt had reared its ugly head and was giving me palpitations. I had fewer morals than an alley cat. I knew this, but still couldn’t feel remorse – I mean, come on, how could you regret something so fantastic? I eventually settled my conscience to a manageable level by promising myself to stay well clear of Father Michael, the church, and anywhere else, I might meet him.

  This lasted all of a week. Look, I’m human, I just couldn’t stay away, OK? I tried fooling myself as I showered and put on my most flattering dress that I only wanted to make sure he was all right. It was a mercy-mission. Mercy missions were fine as far as I was concerned.

  From my discreet enquiries, I knew confessions were heard at the church on Thursdays. Hoping Michael would be one of the priests in attendance, I entered by a side door. I kept my eyes averted from the alter and the crucifix hanging above it, sure a bolt of lightning would reduce me to a pile of cinders for having the audacity to enter the church.

  I made my way to the confessional boxes. Father Murphy’s name card was on the door of the right hand side and much to my relief Father Daley’s on the left. Still avoiding looking up, I sat in the pew and let people go ahead of me until I was sure I was the last person waiting.

  I entered the confines of the box, and found I couldn’t speak. Seeing Michael through the dim light of the grille wearing his cassock and stole was my undoing. What had possessed me to do such a stupid thing as coming here? I was just about to leave when Michael spoke.

  ‘Do you want to make a confession, my child?’

  Oh – my – God!

  ‘Um… yes, no...’ Michael jerked at the sound of my voice.

  ‘Katie?’

  ‘Yes it’s me. I wanted to see if you are OK, but I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry… I’ll go.’

  ‘Katie hold on. We can’t talk here, can you wait?’

  ‘Until after confession? Everyone’s gone, I was the last.’

  ‘Can you go and sit down and I’ll be with you in a minute… is that OK?’

  I watched as Michael left the confessional, removed his nameplate and walked down the side aisle. At the alter he bowed his head and genuflected before going through a small door to the left. Father Murphy, by the looks of it, had also removed his nameplate. A few moments later Michael reappeared. To my relief he had taken off his Surplice and Stole. His black clerics and white tab made him seem less priest like, although why that should be, I had no idea. He smiled warmly as he reached my pew.

  ‘Thanks for waiting, Katie.’

  ‘That’s OK; I think we need to talk.’

  ‘You’re right of course; I’m just not sure this is the right place to do it. Anyone could come in.’ Michael looked around as if t
rying to decide where the best place would be. Far away from the church was my choice, but before I could say anything, he was beckoning me forward.

  ‘Follow me,’ he said, as he started back down towards the alter. He didn’t genuflect as he passed it this time and I was astonished when he opened the same door he had used previously. Never having entered the inner sanctum, I was vaguely interested in my surroundings. However, I didn’t get a chance to take in the trappings of the various Church services before Michael opened a door to another room… well, little more than a large cupboard really.

  The dim bulb did little to illuminate the surroundings, but from what I could see, it seemed to be a storeroom. Someone had piled discarded chairs against one wall, and boxes containing what looked like prayer books and hymnals against another, but most surprising was a small battered easy chair against the third.

  Although I was aware of the need for subterfuge, the idea of hiding in a musty cupboard at the back of the church with a devilishly handsome priest, suddenly struck me as incredibly funny. I was sure nobody but me could get into a situation like this. I started giggling and once I’d started, I couldn’t stop. Michael, finally aware of the affect his incongruous behaviour was having on me, started laughing too.

  ‘Shush!’ he whispered, which made me laugh all the more.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Michael,’ I said, between fits of giggles. ‘But this is so funny; can you imagine if Father Gus walked in now?’

  ‘He won’t, he’s away, but Father Murphy’s about, so shush!’ The thought of Father Murphy catching us in “flagrant delicto” sobered me.

  ‘He’s not likely to come back, is he?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so; he mentioned a programme he wanted to watch.’

  ‘Oh, so that’s why he scuttled off so quickly after confession.’ Michael’s raised eyebrow caused me to issue a contrite, ‘Sorry.’

  Now that our laughter had subsided, I noticed a subtle change in the atmosphere of the dusty little room. An oppressive sexual awareness had us eyeing each warily.

  ‘Why in here, Michael?’ He didn’t answer.

  ‘Michael?’

  ‘You smell lovely, Katie,’ he said softly.

  ‘Michael… we have to talk.’

  ‘I know, but not now.’

  OK, so what would you have done? The righteous, morally above reproach of you, will think I should have high-tailed my sorry ass out of there and you may be right. However, those of you with a spirit of adventure and slightly lax morals like mine would probably have done exactly as I did. Think about it. You’re standing in close proximity to a gorgeous, but forbidden man, which in itself is enticing. Add to that a predatory look in his eye that tells you he wants you, and a memory of what you have already shared, and I’m sorry, but the combination becomes too much to resist. Well it was for me, so I shall disregard any righteous indignation aimed in my direction and tell you, I had a whale of a time!

  Chapter Seven

  I’m a bit loath to admit it – and shame on me, but those two encounters set the tone for that whole summer. Father Michael and I met as often as his schedule would allow – usually once a week. Any scruples either of us had, we buried as our infatuation with each other grew.

  At home, I often found myself humming as I relived each meeting, replaying in minute detail everything he had said in his soft, Irish brogue. God, it was wonderful to feel wanted. I had no doubt Michael wanted me – his actions proved that. He was lying his head off, going against everything he held dear to be with me, and in a strange way I was grateful. I greedily looked forward to each time I could see him.

  We even conspired to have a weekend away. It was mid-August and Michael was due to spend his annual fortnight at home in Ireland. By happy coincidence, the boys were also going away with their grandparents.

  We were sitting on a rocky out-crop in our favourite place in the woods, well away from prying eyes, when it was first mentioned. Michael had been delayed and rather than cut our time together short, he had arrived in his clerics. Normally he wore casual clothes on his time off and I was used to seeing him that way, sometimes I even found it disappointing. Not that day though. This is really awful… but I’ll tell you anyway, as it seems pointless not to after spilling the beans on everything else. You see the problem was; part of the attraction for me was that Michael was a priest. It was taboo, it was dangerous, it was disgraceful, but… Hellfire, it was exciting!

  Basking in the aftermath of Michael’s ferocious passion, stoked to fever pitch by me, as I divested him slowly, peeling away the Catholic Church and revealing the red-blooded, totally horny, man beneath – I found there was something satisfying about that. I vaguely felt as if I had won a battle, scored a point, but I didn’t delve into it too deeply, introspection was a no, no. Enjoy the moment, was my philosophy and hang the consequences… especially the moral ones.

  I was thinking what a shame we could only ever have brief snatches of time together. Moments later, I voiced my thoughts.

  ‘Funny you should say that. I had an idea about it… last night actually.’ Michael’s eyes were alight with mischief. He was grinning at me, so I grinned back.

  ‘Go on then, what was your idea?’

  Michael gathered my hands together on his knee and squeezed. ‘How would you like to spend a weekend with me?’ He was excited with the idea and stared intently into my eyes to gauge my reaction. He wasn’t disappointed.

  ‘Wow! Michael that would be fantastic, but how could we do it?

  ‘You know I told you I was going home next weekend?’ I nodded. ‘Well, what if I don’t go until Monday? We could have Friday night and all day Saturday and Sunday together, what do you think?’

  I thought it was the most wonderful idea and mentally formed the lies I would tell Eddie there and then.

  As it happened, I needn’t have bothered. With the boys safely packed off with Jean and Arthur, I waited until the Thursday to broach the subject. Eddie was late home as usual and I hovered in the kitchen as he ate his dinner. I was just about to open my mouth when he spoke.

  ‘Oh, by the way I have to go to Brighton on business at the weekend. Typical, isn’t it, the first chance to have some time together without the boys and I have to be away.’

  He made a show of being annoyed, but I knew that’s all it was. I briefly wondered which bimbo he was taking. However, that time…I couldn’t have given a damn. I raised my eyes to the heavens to thank God, then given the circumstances thought better of it. Just to be mean, I decided to make Eddie wriggle a bit.

  ‘Brighton, eh? Well I could come with you if you like. I could do the shops and we could have the evenings together.’

  I watched as Eddie mentally tried to extricate himself from this unexpected turn of events. I had said the very last thing he was expecting, it was a complication he wasn’t prepared for.

  ‘Aw, Katie… that would have been nice,’ he said, once he had solved the problem to his satisfaction. ‘But you would be bored and honestly, the meetings will go on through dinner, so really, it would be a waste of time.’

  I did my best to look disappointed. ‘Oh, I see. Well, I don’t feel like spending the weekend alone…’ I mused. I waited, counting to twenty in my head.

  ‘I know! I’ll go and spend some time with Alison, she’s always asking me to go up and I rarely do.’

  Eddie stood up, almost but not quite, hiding his relief. He gave my arm a quick squeeze before putting his plate in the dishwasher.

  ‘Great idea. You go and enjoy yourself; you’ll have a far better time than hanging around waiting for me.’ He went off to his study no doubt congratulating himself on his deviousness, and I went into the lounge congratulating myself on mine.

  Michael and I arranged to meet at the train station on the Friday evening. To avoid arousing suspicion he agreed to let Father Gus drop him off, as he would normally have done. Michael usually caught the train to London and from there, a plane across to Dublin. I sat in my car in t
he car park watching Father Gus make his more than steady way out of the station.

  Butterflies were running riot in my stomach. This was big. This was huge! We were moving up a notch in the relationship, it was exciting. That said; I adamantly refused to look any further than the moment. I was living in the now and enjoying it immensely. There was no way I was going to clutter it up with “what-if’s”.

  Michael jumped in the car, grinning from ear to ear. Dumping his rucksack on the back seat with a flourish, he squeezed my leg.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this.’ His good humour was infectious, but I did have a brief thought on how easily he seemed to throw off the shackles of his ecclesiastical life. But that was it… a brief thought. As far as I was concerned, he could look after his own eternal soul and I would look after mine. Not that I was looking after my eternal soul. God no! I was busy digging my way to the pit of Hades and enjoying every second of it.

  We stayed in a small hotel in Dulverton, near the edge of Exmoor National Park. Michael had chosen it because it was far enough away from home to be safe, but not so far that we would have to spend our precious time together travelling for hours. We arrived late, stopping on the way to eat and when we were shown to our room by the hotel owner, I was both surprised and enchanted.

  The hotel had originally been a sixteenth century coaching inn but been added to periodically over the years and not always sympathetically. Luckily, we were in the oldest part and the room looked very much as it would have done originally. Decked out in beautiful brocade fabrics, a comfortable looking four-poster bed dominated the wood panelled room. A further search revealed a bathroom hidden behind a fake panel door.

  ‘Michael, it’s gorgeous!’

  ‘Hmm… not bad, hope there’s no ghosts though, I’m not really equipped to do an exorcism,’ he laughed.

  Immediately I was intrigued. ‘Have you ever done one?’

  ‘Katie… how about from now until Monday morning we forget I’m a priest? Let’s just be you and me and pretend no one else exists.’

  His expression was earnest and it struck me that this was probably the only way he could come to terms with what we were doing.