Free A Rural Affair by Catherine Alliott Page B

it from
     school. It was quite a shock, and not altogether unpleasant. I even felt a sensation approaching the warmth of blood in my
     veins. Molly was a bit distracting beside me, though, because she was singing something different.
    ‘She’s singing “Nights in White Satin”,’ I muttered to Jennie when Sue tapped the lectern to stop us because Ron had lost
     his place.
    ‘Always does,’ muttered back Jennie. ‘But she’s been in the choir for thirty years, so what can you do? We just don’t sit
     next to her,’ she added pointedly.
    At that moment the church door flew open.
    ‘Oh, good – you made it, Luke!’ Saintly Sue swung around delighted, even more flushed than usual and her colour was always
     high.
    A tall, rather attractive sandy-haired man in jeans, a biscuit-coloured linen jacket and gold-rimmed specs bounded down the
     aisle.
    ‘New organist,’ Angie leaned forward from behind to murmur in my ear, as we lunged to catch our hymn sheets, which were fluttering
     up like a flock of doves on the blast of cold air.
    ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said, bouncing towards us with a wide smile. ‘Bit of a cock-up at work and I couldn’t get away.’ There
     was a definite puppyish charm: long legs, floppy hair, eyes that glinted merrily from behind the specs in an open, friendly
     face.
    ‘Oh, no, not at all,’ purred Sue, smoothing back her hair and straightening her blue lambswool jumper over her ample bosom.
     ‘We were slightly early in fact. But then I’m always a bit keen!’
    It might not have been entirely what she meant to say – Jennie sniggered – but I find that often happens to me, and as her
     hand went to her darkening throat, I sympathized.
    ‘Well, I’ll pop up, shall I?’ Luke said, after a slight pause during which their eyes met, his slightly more amused than hers.
     He indicated the organ above us, aloft. ‘Press on?’
    ‘Oh, yes,
do
,’ said Sue, as if it was a terrific idea, and one that hadn’t occurred to her. ‘Super!’
    ‘You’re all sounding great, by the way,’ he told us. ‘I could hear you halfway down the street – wonderful stuff!’
    He bestowed on us another winning smile, gathering everyone in, and everyone beamed delightedly back. All except one. I might
     have remembered how to do the Gloria, but I wasn’t up to beaming yet. My mouth did twitch politely, but later, after the event,
     as I find is often the case these days.
    ‘Rather gorgeous, isn’t he?’ breathed Jennie lustily in my ear as Luke eased himself into position at the organ. He had a
     lengthy grace, sensitive fingers poised.
    ‘Not bad,’ I said non-committally.
    ‘He’s fresh out of the Guildhall,’ Angie billowed from behind into my other ear, as if he were a gleaming trout from the river.
     ‘Post-grad, obviously. Just bought a cottage in Wessington. He’s in insurance now. Got his own business.’
    I didn’t answer.
    ‘Incredibly charming,’ she murmured again. ‘I mean, to talk to.’ As opposed to what?
    ‘All yours, Angie,’ I said, turning and managing the first half-smile of the evening. ‘I’ll hold your handbag.’
    ‘Me?’ She reared back incredulously, hand on heart. ‘Oh, no, he’s far too young for me. He’s your age, Poppy.’ She fluttered
     her fingers dismissively at me.
    I turned back. Shut my eyes. Why had I come? Why wasn’t I at home in my chair?
    Off we went again, only this time not so successfully. As Ron slipped gratefully out of the side door and back to his pint
     in the Rose and Crown, Luke, up at the organ, got very busy. So busy we didn’t know where we were. All sorts of crashing introductory
     chords rolled into one another like
waves and we’d ejaculate prematurely only to discover Luke was still building up to something big. Only Molly ploughed on
     doggedly with her shrill, warbling rendition of the number-one seventies hit for Procol Harum. Molly, and obviously Spod,
     whose look of glazed lust as Jennie tried to