3

 

Breakfast served and over, the dishes finally stacked and the dishwasher set going, Hattie had five minutes in which to change before leaving for church, without being late. Steve and Penny had gone on ahead as they were giving out the hymnbooks. She finished her hair and dashed from the house, locking the front door behind her.

Church was a brisk fifteen minute walk away, or a more sedate thirty minute one. Today, she didn’t have time for sedate. Not if she wanted to be on time. And she couldn’t afford petrol in her car this week. Or next week either.

When she started working with Steve, she’d bought into the guest house with all her savings and had been under the impression she was a part owner. But the paperwork had never arrived and as the years passed, she just dropped the subject. She was paid a pittance. It was way less than the minimum wage, especially for the hours she put in and the lack of time off, but there was no point in saying anything, for fear of upsetting him. And it wasn’t just because he was her twin, either.

He had a temper like none other, and had been known to sulk for days, ignoring her and then giving her far more work that she could cope with, by vanishing with Penny for days on end. Besides whenever she brought the subject up, Steve had an answer for everything. Each time she mentioned it, he had a very good reason for not paying her more. The roof needed doing or they needed to redecorate. Not that she ever saw any decorators or builders. She usually ended up doing that herself. But she had to ask for everything she needed. When it came to money, Steve kept tight lipped and his wallet padlocked. He dealt with that side of things— even going as far as controlling all the shopping and doing it himself— and always bought the cheapest things possible. Fortunately, she was a master at making something from nothing and her cooking skills only improved as a result.

As she kept up a brisk walk, her thoughts turned to her newest guest. He didn’t seem anything like she imagined a footballer to be. And despite Steve’s teasing, she wasn’t attracted to Mr. Trant. Was she?

No, she wasn’t. There was something about him, something she couldn’t put her finger on, but he’d never be interested in her.

Besides, he was a guest and that was the end of it.

But still her imagination wandered. What would it be like to date someone like him? A world famous athlete who was a household name and got recognized everywhere he went. Did he get preferential treatment in theatres or restaurants? He was someone who’d been to places she could only dream about, never mind attempt to pronounce. The furthest abroad she’d ever been was a school geography trip to Interlaken in Switzerland when she was fifteen.

Holidays were spent with Aunt Laurie and Uncle Reg in their cottage on an island off the south coast of England. Someone famous would never fit into her quiet, boring existence, where the most exciting thing that happened was the washing machine breaking down or the freezer door being left open and the kitchen flooding.

She slid into the back row of Headley Baptist, and scanned the service sheet. Mrs. Jefferies was back in hospital again. She should go and visit her at some point. Aaron Field and Meaghan Knight were getting married in a few weeks. Perhaps she’d be able to take the afternoon off to attend the wedding.

There was a list of local churches on the noticeboard in the guest house, including this one, but she’d never run into any of her guests here. That was probably a good thing.

Enough of this—she wasn’t here to worry about which church her guests attended. She opened her Bible to the passage Pastor Jack would be preaching on. Isaiah forty verses twenty-eight to thirty-one. She loved that passage and the imagery it provoked in her mind. Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. She read it through twice, closing her Bible as Pastor Jack rose to his feet on the platform.

Someone slid into the pew next to her just as the service started, but she didn’t turn to look, knowing how much she hated the sidelong glances when she was late.

She stood to sing the first hymn, based on the passage she’d just read, and was more than a little surprised by the voice next to her. It couldn’t be Mr. Trant, could it? She risked a sideways glance. It was.

 

****

 

Cal had gotten lost trying to find the church. He’d perused the notice board after breakfast and found the list of churches. Admittedly, he’d done a search on churches in Headley Cross before leaving home and found the website for Headley Baptist, but he’d been pleased to find it listed at the guest house. Although this one was called a Baptist church, it was a member of the FIEC and thus more Evangelical than the strict Baptist church he’d grown up in.

His navigational skills had let him down after he left the map on his bed. He’d taken a left instead of a right somewhere and got hopelessly lost. He just prayed that the lads back at the lifeboat station never found out about this. He was the helm officer after all and he’d never live it down. Still, he’d found the church in the nick of time and took a seat on the end of a pew on the back.

And ended up sitting right next to Miss Steele. He felt rather than saw her glance at him during the first hymn. He turned his head towards her and smiled; the smile fading slightly as she blushed and looked down at her hymn book.

That was a reaction he hadn’t seen in a while and had hoped he’d never see again. The ‘Oh-Wow-I’m-Sat-Next-To-Callum-Trant’ look that he hated so much, which had followed him around for so many years. Yes, adoring fans came with being famous, and most of the time he didn’t mind. It was just women. He thought, hoped, that Miss Steele was different, but maybe all women were the same when it came to the adoring fangirliness. Unfortunately, all they would see would be the fame and fortune and not him. He turned back to the hymn, focusing his mind on his reason for being here.

As the children left after the first twenty minutes, he noticed a few of the older boys look at him twice and he smiled, flustering them. A few of the parents recognized him and nodded or smiled and he returned the smiles. Then he immersed himself fully in the service, finding the teaching speaking to him.

After the service, he sat in prayer for a moment. He straightened, reaching for the sheet, he’d tucked into the pew in front.

“How did you find the service?” Miss Steele’s voice made him grin.

“Almost didn’t,” he said, playing on her words. “I got lost on the way here.”

She giggled. “Oops. I’ll have to put a better map on the leaflet.”

“The map was fine—or it would have been. Except for the fact the leaflet it’s on the back of is still on my bed.”

“Ah. It’s not much good there.”

“No, not really.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But the real answer to your question is the service was good. Your pastor is a gifted man.”

She smiled. “That he is. He’s always full of joy and love and zeal for the Lord, no matter what is going on around him.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

Cal turned. A kid of about fourteen stood there, several others partway down the aisle looking at him with anxious anticipation. He must have been elected spokesman and had hands shoved into his pockets, hopping nervously from one foot to the other.

Cal smiled to put him at his ease. “Hi.”

“Are you Callum Trant?”

“Yes, I am.”

The kid beamed and did a thumbs up at the others. “Told them you were him, but they didn’t believe me. Can I have your autograph please?”

“Of course.” Cal pulled a pen from his jacket pocket. Soon he had a whole gaggle of children there, but he kept signing, offering each one a smile and friendly word. After they left, he sat for a moment to compose himself.

“You could have said no.”

He almost jumped, but caught himself in time. He’d forgotten she was there. “I could have, but that wouldn’t have been the Christian thing to do. Jesus never turned anyone away when He was recognized.”

“You’re on holiday.”

“Technically so was He, when He went across the lake to be alone. The crowds followed Him everywhere He went, but He still welcomed them.”

Miss Steele nodded. “And He even fed them.”

“All five thousand of them. So I can’t begrudge a few kids an autograph. Besides, it doesn’t happen as often now as it used to.” He stood as rain started to pound against the church windows and laughed. “Another typical summer’s day in England.”

She nodded. “I’ll see you at dinner. Don’t forget it’s an hour early tonight so I can make the evening service. Five o’clock rather than six.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Oh, and before I forget, thank you so much for the extra tea in my room. I noticed last night you’d replaced the coffee with teabags.”

“You’re welcome. It makes sense as you don’t drink coffee. Have a good day.”

“You, too.” He pulled his collar up and headed out into the storm. Lightning flashed and thunder roared shortly afterwards. The rain bounced off the pavement, splashing his legs. He walked the short distance to the café he’d planned on visiting for lunch. Storms here seemed almost tame by comparison to the ones he was used to at home. Yes, there was wind, driving rain, thunder and lightning, but with no twenty foot waves and his feet planted firmly on solid ground, there really was nothing to fear.

Was there anything on land that could rattle him?

Falling in love came the unbidden response. This was why he wasn’t going to do it. He’d seen the fear in the eyes of the wives, girlfriends, and husbands as he and the others left parties, dinners and functions to go to sea.

He couldn’t, wouldn’t ever do that to anyone. Especially not to Miss Steele.