by Steve
Killick
'Oooh
a new Vicar, Aunty Chris,' how exciting,' trilled Shula, as she flicked
through the pages of Horse and Hound. 'And didn't the Liberty and Livelihood
march go down so well? There's a picture in this week's H&H where
you can just see the top of George's head.'
'Oh George will be
pleased,' beamed Christine. 'But, yes I only heard from your mother last
night. She had been arranging flowers in St Stephen's and bumped into
Bishop Cyril of all people. Cyril was saying how the chap had been ordained
recently in America, but was from the UK, Scotland I think, and was very
keen to take over as soon as possible. He is young too, only just in his
early 40s.'
'That's great, enthused
Shula, 'and I hope he's good looking, it would be such a help at drinks
parties and church socials. What's he called? Is he married?'
'Now Shula, don't get too excited,' replied her aunt in soothing tones.
'All I know is that he is called Colin Foster and that he is due at St
Stephen's this lunchtime.'
'Ooooh aunty Chris,
we most go and meet him, come on let's go now.' Shula rushed across the
small sitting room snagging her tights on a glass case containing a stuffed
pine marten and two red squirrels. 'I'm so sorry Shula, I 've been on
at George to hang that case for weeks and he still hasn't done it,' said
Christine. 'Now slow down a minute and I'll drive you down there in the
Land Rover.'
The ancient mud-splattered
vehicle stopped outside the village church, just as a tall man in a tweed
jacket was passing beneath the lychgate. ' That must be him!' cried Shula
throwing open the door of the Land Rover and rushing, childlike, towards
the church entrance. 'Hallo! Hallo! Mr Foster?'
The tall stranger
turned and smiled a dry tight lipped smile but his eyes showed no warmth.
Only chill and malice. Shula's mouth dropped open, her head swam and she
felt she was going to fall. She put her right hand up to one of the lychgate
posts for support.
She swallowed hard
before blurting out, 'But you're not Colin Foster, you're Cameron Fraser,
and you're a sadistic, calculating brute.'
'Not anymore I'm not,' said the tall Scot. 'I'm the Reverend Colin Foster
now, and Ambridge's new vicar.'
