Free Put on the Armour of Light by Catherine Macdonald

she nodded in his direction. “And I go on about my family, which he actually seems to find interesting. But then if I ask him a question about his family, nine times out of ten he’ll make a joke and we’ll go off in another direction entirely. And ten minutes after he’s gone, I’ll realize he changed the subject.”
    â€œPerhaps he’s doing that deliberately. Trying to make himself ever more fascinating,” Charles said, only half joking.
    She laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that. He’s that way with everyone though. Charming and good at drawing people out. But there are certain topics he doesn’t care to discuss.” She looked suddenly thoughtful. “But, I suppose men are like that.”
    There was a door open. All he needed to do was walk through it.
    And then it was closed. “Oh, look. Some children’s shoes came in this morning,” she said, picking up two impossibly small black boots from a carton. “Since we already have some on hand we should send the new ones over to the children’s home. Mrs. Forman says they’re desperate for them. And by the way, Trevor is running in the All Charities Foot Race next week — did you know? And his law firm is sponsoring him at twenty dollars a mile. That’s one hundred and twenty dollars for the children’s home if he finishes the race.”
    â€œWell, that’s good work. As a matter of fact, I’m thinking of entering the race too.”
    â€œYou’re not! Charles! You’ll fall over after two miles.”
    â€œWhy do you say that? I do a little road work with the boy’s boxing club,” he said, “And I’ll have you know I was very highly thought of on the University College track and field team.”
    Maggie just snorted. “Your road work consists of watching the boys run around the park and your glorious sporting career is, shall we say, receding into the distance. I suppose I’ll just have to make sure there’s a wagon at mile three to bring you home in.” She looked at her watch. “Oh, my goodness! My German lesson’s in ten minutes!” She grabbed her hat, handbag and umbrella, and ran up the stairs, hiking her skirts clear of the steps.
    Annoying girl , Charles thought. Just assumes I can’t do it . In truth he hadn’t had any intention of entering the race. He had been as surprised as she was when those words popped out of his mouth. But now a granitic determination formed in his mind. Of course he would enter the race. The church was a member of the All Charities campaign and he had been thinking of taking more exercise. This would be the start of a new health regime.
    He took the stairs two at a time up into the cool, whitewashed brightness of the sanctuary. The rain was drumming lightly on the roof and he stopped, cocking his head. So pleasant just to be still and listen to it. Come on , he reminded himself, there’s work to be done . While climbing the narrow stairway to the gallery, he mentally reviewed the steps he needed to take to get some working room around the sagging beam that supported the front portion of the gallery floor. First the front railing and the parapet on which it was fastened would be removed; then the floorboards over the beam; then the decorative boards and mouldings hiding the beam. He set to work with a crowbar, taking down the railing which only two years before he himself had made.
    As he carefully loosened the groaning boards of the parapet from their nails, trying not to split the boards, he began to hum softly. Some of the men on the session thought it less than respectable for their minister to undertake this kind of work. But Charles had convinced them that most of the money they raised for the church should go to the programs and services they offered in the building and not to adorn its place of worship. They were lucky that he was able to do a few things around the place;