5

 

Prison? Stunned simply didn’t cover the numbness that filled Maggie. Her jaw dropped and she swallowed hard. The fork fell from her hand to the plate with a loud clunk. Surely I misheard him, right? Or he was the prison chaplain or something… But he said gangs and fights and…

She had to say something. Anything to get him to clarify what he’d just said, but what? Finally, her voice managed a squeak. “Prison? You’re an ex-con?”

Carson nodded. “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of. But two things I can assure you of, I haven’t killed anyone. Nor have I ever, ever, raised my hand against a woman or a child. Or hurt them in any way.”

“O—OK.”

“All of the gang members were armed by default. I carried a gun and a knife all the time. I had to, for my own protection—even slept with my knife under my pillow. You never knew when someone from a rival gang would find you. Or a cop would happen along. And, yes, before you ask, I did use it. Anyway, we needed money and a lot of it. So the decision was made to rob a bank in Stepney. Not one on our turf—we weren’t that stupid.”

“Why not?”

“Never mess in your own backyard.”

Maggie looked down at her plate. She wasn’t sure how to take all of this. But she’d asked and now he was talking, the last thing she would do was ask him to stop. “I see. Sorry. This is all new to me. Go on.”

He took a forkful of food and paused while he ate. “Against my better judgment, I left my knife behind with someone from the gang, and just took my gun. The orders came down from higher up the gang command chain than me. The bank was busy. We told all the customers to lie on the floor while someone went along the row of cashiers with the bag. I covered the customers and one of the younger members covered the security guard. Only, another guard came in. The kid got spooked and fired. The guard died, despite my best efforts to stem the bleeding. We were all sent down for armed robbery. I got eight years for my part. After five years I got an early release.”

“I see.”

Carson picked up his juice and took several long swallows. “But I found God in that prison cell. Eventually—my heart was stubborn and full of pride. The only way to survive with my reputation was to act tough and hit hard and fast and first. Until someone was faster than me, and I got stabbed. The doctor who patched up the knife wound to my stomach was a Christian. He was different from anyone I’d met before. I wanted to know why and he told me. I started going along to the services in the prison chapel and God slowly started working in me. I was converted about three months later. And I haven’t looked back since.”

He studied the glass in his hand. “Once I got out, I went home. Mum and Dad stood by me the whole time, not that I deserved it. So did William. I applied to Bible College, and here I am. This is my first pastorate.”

Maggie sat in amazement. The fact he hadn’t mentioned his sister in that last bit, spoke volumes, but she wasn’t going to pry. “That’s incredible. And your record didn’t stop you from getting in?” She shook her head and put her fork down. “Sorry, obviously it didn’t.”

“They tested my faith a lot, and wanted evidence of my conversion. I still get the impression someone is waiting for me to fail. But I am so grateful to God for all He’s done. I’m living proof of His love and mercy and that even the worst sinner can find forgiveness at the cross.” He paused. “You look uncomfortable. Have I said too much?”

“No.” She needed to rein in her feelings. None of them were perfect, she knew all too well she had her own faults and failings and would hate for them to become public knowledge. “I just wasn’t expecting a story like yours. What about your CRB?”

He smiled. “I was honest when I applied, so the criminal records check wasn’t a problem. I can’t change my past, but I’ve paid my debt to society. God’s wiped out my sins and here I am.” He picked up his glass and swirled the juice. “What about you?”

“Nothing so dramatic, I’m afraid. I was brought up in the church. It’s just something I’ve always done. A natural progression, if you like.” Despite his honesty, she just couldn’t tell him everything. Some things were best left in the past where they belonged. Her turning point had been dramatic enough for her to need hours of therapy and counseling and now she was moving forwards. Reliving the past couldn’t happen.

Carson finished his meal. “That was lovely, thank you.”

“Do you want a hand with the dishes?”

He shook his head. “I have a dishwasher. And I fully intend to use it.”

Maggie smiled. “In that case, I shall make a move and go home. I have a pile of marking to do. Don’t forget to use the arnica cream on those bruises.”

“I won’t.” He rose to his feet as she did. “Maggie, I’d like to see you again.”

“You’re helping with the nativity, and I’ll see you in church.”

He grabbed her hand. His skin was warm and gentle, yet it sent rivers of fire shooting up her arm and tight around her chest. “No, I mean see you. I know you’ve only just broken up with someone, and I don’t want to start anything on the rebound, just think about it.”

“I will.”

Her mind whirled as she left the house. He’d asked her out. Did she want to go out with him? Did she want to date a pastor or an ex-con or another man just yet? What was it that made her want to keep him at arm’s length? Was it the fact he was a pastor, her pastor, or an ex-con that bothered her? A bank robber and gangster, someone who routinely carried a gun and used it to threaten people with, and even shoot them, or was she afraid he’d turn out to be another Wesley? Or would her past prevent her from ever being able to trust him?

Half way down the path to the car, her phone rang. “Hello?”

“Just checking I have the right number.”

Maggie laughed and waved at the figure standing in the tinsel strewn window behind her. “You have. Night, Carson.”

“Night, Maggie.”

She got into the car and dumped her bag on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Her phone rang again. She grinned and fished it from her bag. “Did you forget something?”

“No, but you did.” The voice wasn’t the one she was expecting.

Her heart pounded so much it deafened her. “Wesley?”

“This isn’t over, Margaret. You’re mine. You need to remember that.”

She hung up with trembling hands and looked up at the house. The Christmas lights flashed on and off in a constantly changing pattern. She took a deep breath, needing to hear a friendly voice, just for a moment, and redialed.

“Hello.”

“Carson, I meant to ask if you’d like me to walk Pilot in the morning before school.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

“OK, see you around six. Really going this time. Bye.”

 

****

 

Carson pulled on his coat as the doorbell rang. It was exactly six o’clock. He grabbed his scarf as he opened the door. “Morning. I thought I’d come as well, if that’s all right?”

Maggie’s smile lit up the dark, bitterly cold morning. “I’d like that.”

Pilot stood at his heels looking suspiciously at Gypsy. Carson put a hand on his collar. “Easy, boy. You know Gypsy.”

Maggie gave Gypsy a little bit more lead and the two dogs sniffed each other quickly.

Carson clipped on Pilot’s lead and pulled the door shut behind him.

“How are you this morning?”

“It looks worse than it is.” He started walking with her, the two dogs running along contentedly. “A little sore when I lie on my right side.”

“So don’t lie on your right side.” She grinned. “Mum always says that.”

He chuckled. “So does mine. Must be a mother thing.”

She adjusted her grip on the lead. “It’s dark this morning. It was so pretty with all the houses lit up last night.”

Carson smiled. “I love Christmas. Even more so now I understand what it really means. Without Christmas there’d be no Easter, and no forgiveness or salvation.” He caught the look she gave him. “What?”

She shrugged. “Nothing.”

He stopped and turned to face her. “Maggie, does my past bother you?”

Her breath hung in the cold air. “It’s not that so much, it’s…” She started walking again. “Never mind. Are you seeing your family over Christmas?”

He went with her change of topic—for now. “My parents are coming to stay on the twenty-fourth. Mum’s all excited about my first Christmas as a pastor and wants to be here. They should arrive in time for the morning service.”

“That’ll be nice.” She winked. “So, are you cooking Christmas dinner? Or are you going to get your mum to do it?”

Carson snorted. “It’ll be ready meals.”

“You can’t do that.” She sounded horrified. “You have to do roast turkey with all the trimmings.”

They reached the park and let the dogs off the leads. “Honestly? I have never cooked a roast in my life. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Seriously?”

Under normal circumstances, he would have laughed at the comical expression of horror on her face. But that wasn’t a good idea at the present time. He slipped a ball from his coat pocket and gave it a firm throw, watching Pilot bound after it. “Seriously, my specialty is beans on toast. Or I eat out. Or heat up a ready meal.”

“You need some cooking lessons pronto.”

“Are you offering?” He reached out and took hold of her hand.

“Are you asking?”

“Yeah, I’m asking.”

“Then, yes, I’m offering.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’ll teach you a full roast and a few other simple dishes you can adapt. Like shepherd’s pie. The meat for that is also the basis of lasagna and spaghetti bolognaise. Casseroles, stews, and savory crumble are mainly the same thing as well.”

“Really? Crumble? For dinner?”

“You use cheese instead of sugar,” she laughed. They started walking again, her hand still loosely in his. “Trust me, it works. Then there’s toad in the hole, risotto, curry, soup…all manner of easy stuff.”

Carson laughed. “Easy for you to make, maybe.”

“Trust me. Your mum will think you’re a chef by the time we’re done.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll start tonight. What do you have in the way of food?”

Carson hesitated. “Umm…beans, bread and ready meals.”

Maggie rolled her eyes at him, which was actually kind of cute. “I see. Then I’ll go shopping and get enough for a week. Is there anything you can’t eat?”

“Mushrooms.”

“I don’t eat them either, so that’s easy.”

Before he realized the time gone by, they were back at the house and Maggie was unlocking her car. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Sure.” He waved as she drove off and then looked down at Pilot. “How did we get talked into cooking lessons? On the plus side, I get to spend lots of time with Maggie. And Mum won’t think I’m completely useless.”

 

****

 

Maggie wandered around the supermarket. Did Carson like peppers and onions, and what about peas and sweet corn? In the end, she put them all in the trolley, figuring if he didn’t want them, then she’d keep them.

By the time she was finished, the canned carols were beginning to irritate her; but not as much as the kid in the trolley in front of her in the queue. He’d already eaten one bag of crisps, from the unpaid shopping behind him, and was nagging his mother to give him another one. His mother didn’t hesitate before taking a bar of chocolate from the display by the checkout and giving it to him.

Maggie’s mind went back to Carson and what he’d said about robbing the bank. Stealing wasn’t simply big things like banks; it was little things, too. Even so, she couldn’t imagine him doing anything that bad. She shook her head. She didn’t even want to imagine him with a gun, never mind using it.

Her Carson wasn’t that man. He was the man who preached on a Sunday, helped organize the nativity. The man she knew stood up for her and took a beating for her. He wasn’t a thug with a past that her father would hate. A past that she was—

Something niggled in the dark recesses of her memory. Something she’d tried very hard to forget. She forced her mind to change track and packed the groceries into her own cloth shopping bags. She’d included a few things that Carson could cook from frozen, but wasn’t a meal on a plate.

Her phone rang as she reached the car. “Hello.”

“Margaret.” Her heart froze. Only one person called her that, aside from her mother. And that was only with her middle and surname attached when she was in trouble.

“What do you want, Wesley?”

“You do know who you are getting involved with, don’t you?”

“I’m not involved with anyone.”

“Really?” His tone mocked her. “Carson Armitage is bad news. Stay away from him, or else.”

“I have to go.” She hung up and shoved her phone into the bottom of her handbag.

When she arrived at Carson’s she was still stressed. She pulled half the shopping from the boot of the car and headed up the path. She dumped the bags and rang the bell. She was halfway back to the car when she heard the door open.

“Playing thunder and lightning, are we?” Carson’s voice carried his customary laugh.

“We called it knock down ginger, and we never left gifts,” she tossed over her shoulder. She lifted the last two bags from the car and locked it. She glanced nervously behind her before heading back up the path.

He studied her with his normal careful gaze. “Are you all right? You look anxious.”

“Maybe I am a little. Work is flat out right now, but it’s Wesley. He just won’t accept it’s over and keeps calling.”

“Want me to have a word?” He kicked the door closed behind them.

“No, he’ll get the message eventually.”

He looked at the bags she had in addition to the ones he carried. “However much did you buy?”

“I got enough to feed you for a couple of weeks.” She smiled. “Figured I’d teach you how to make spaghetti bolognaise tonight.”

“That sounds good. You’ll stay to share it, I hope.”

She paused briefly, and then nodded. “That would be good, thank you.”