Robin's Way 11

Lunch had buoyed me up, though I was well aware that the adrenaline would go and leave me flat. As it was getting on towards three thirty, I thought it might be time to escape the drama and go over to St Mark's to help with evensong.

I noticed the odd look or three as I walked down there, but that was as nothing compared to my reception in church.

Father Richard was waiting for me.

"Robin, I think it best that for now, you stay away from here. I have had a dozen or so complaints from members of the congregation."

"What sort of complaints?" I asked, determined not to make things easy for him.

"Those headlines have upset people, Robin. We are a very traditional parish, and I have been reminded several times that the church regards homosexuality as sinful. Some have said they will not come to church while you are serving. I am sorry, but I can't be the cause of a scandal."

I sighed. I'd been right. The great world did not give a damn what I did in bed (if only I was actually doing something, I thought), but the church, or some of its members did."

"So, I am to be tried, judged and found guilty with no hearing? Even Pilate gave Jesus more than that."

"I am sorry Robin. For many it has been a stretch to accommodate women priests and bishops, they can't accept sin, and you can't deny that the church does not recognise gay relationships as licit."

And there he went, with the weasel words. I was on the verge of reminding him that the "Living in Faith" process was still being discussed by the church, and that the lines were less clearly drawn than he stated; but I stopped myself. You can't argue people out of a prejudice, especially when you, yourself, are on the verge of losing your temper; so I backed off.

"I don't want a discussion, Richard. I shall cause no problems."

"Thank you for understanding," he said. I felt frustrated and humiliated.

Whether I liked it or not (and I disliked it intensely) I had become an exemplar of the argument that was consuming both my Church and the Catholic Church. It seemed especially unfair to be judged on the basis of two photographs of my kissing Irina; but such was life. I could, of course, have said that I was celibate at the moment, and indeed had been for most of my adult life, but that would have sounded as though I was making excuses and had something to hide. I hated it, but since I could do nothing about it, I decided to leave it to one side. More urgent matters pressed.

Elena's number flashed up on my phone.

"Hi there, Dimitri is furious. I told him that we had a date for Friday night and would be going back to mine for some fun. He seemed to like the idea and asked me for a key to my apartment."

"Good. Leave the rest to me."

"Does Macduff know?"

"He suspects, but I do not think he will report you, if this lands him the arrest he needs."

I spoke with Jane that evening.

"I have been getting calls and emails all day darling. Some very supportive, others calling on me to discipline you."

"I am sorry, Jane, I should have told you."

"If you had, I would have been guilty of putting you in the firing line."

"Where does this leave us, Jane?"

"I still want to explore with you, but we may have to cool it a bit."

My heart sank like a stone. Of course, I understood. She had been got at. She was a bishop, she worked at Lambeth, and a public relationship with me would put a spotlight on her. There would be repercussions. I could not ask that of her. I would not ask that of her. But how ironic, I thought later, I was getting flack for being gay, and the only woman I was interested in was cooling what was already a pretty tepid relationship.

They say God does not send us trial beyond our strength. Perhaps. But I prayed for the strength to carry this burden.

I was not stupid enough to believe that Dimitri would wait for Friday night. I knew I was at risk, and I was grateful for the squad car posted outside the rectory. Even so, loud noises outside work me. I could not bear to listen to the news, though my phone updates told me that I was at the centre of a media storm.

That was confirmed when I logged into my emails to see requests from several journalists for an interview. I replied no, except to the reporter from the 'Church Times.' I was determined to use this to say something to the Church about gay women and the plight of the women whom I was helping. This was not a story about me.

Irina, who rang over breakfast, disagreed.

"The tabloids are all running it, pictures of you in your wet tee-shirt are prominent darling. If you looked like the back of a bus, you'd be okay, but you don't."

On my way to the Retreat I stopped off at the newsagents. Roly, the shopkeeper, look at me.

"Well, lass, you are front page in a lot of the papers. Are you all right?"

"Here today and gone tomorrow," I said, with far more optimism than I felt.

We had the first outings for our Corps, with a schedule which included visits to the elderly, some shopping expeditions for them, and some housework.

Ann and the others looked pleased.

"This is what we want, Miss Robin, to thank your country of giving us refuge, and to give something back."

I smiled.

"Part of the essence of the Christian message, Anna. Love God, and love your neighbour as yourself; on these two hang all the law and prophets."

How very complicated we had managed to make that simple message. If we loved one another, as God loved us, that was enough; God, literally, knew how hard even that was.

Could I feel love for Dimitri? He had had Olena killed. He had blackmailed Elena and had tried to blackmail me; he had threatened me. How could I love him? Yet that was what God demanded. Perhaps if he turned from his sins and repented? Fat chance of that!

I plunged myself into the day. As it was our first one, I went with the team, introduced them to those we were there to help, and lost myself in the camaraderie of female friendship.

Interestingly, although the women were all older, there was not one of them who commented adversely on what had been on the news. Edna, one of the oldest, a northern lady of firm views. made hers plain over a "pot of tea" with scones.

"I don't think it's any of their business, vicar, you're a pretty lass, and who you want to snog is your business - whoever it is a lucky girl!"

There was nothing to be said to that except "thank you," which I duly did. As I was to learn, the strongest, indeed almost the only criticism of me came from fellow Christians. Was it, I wondered, any surprise that people thought we were a censorious lot?

It was a busy afternoon. I was able to leave the women with those they were helping, which meant I could get round the whole complex where most of them lived. It was satisfying to see how the younger and older women soon got on, talking with other over cups of tea. It was so easy to forget, in the business of our society, how many older people, especially women, suffered from loneliness. Some had asked "how can just visiting people help?" But after that afternoon, the question was never asked again.

Perhaps it was that sense of satisfaction, perhaps it was just the business of the afternoon, but I quite forgot that sense of danger I had felt earlier.

Assuming the women, including Anna, must have gone back to the Retreat, I left the complex and began to make my way back there.

The first thing that should have alerted me that something was wrong was that there was no squad car stationed outside, as there had been earlier. The second was that two men had been loitering across the road. It was only when I sensed them walking behind me that I felt alarmed. The street appeared deserted, and there was an alley I needed to go down. As they got closer, I quickened my step. It did not take a genius to realise that they were going to attack me when we got to the alley. Should I have kept to the main road? Some instinct told me not to, which seemed utterly counter intuitive.

The alley was part of a maze of connecting pathways, so I headed swiftly down there, hoping, I think, that my knowledge of the maze might yet save me. I looked behind me. I could see from the look on their faces that they thought they had me.

It was only as I passed the crossroads where the paths met that I saw something else, or rather someone else. It was Irina, and she was not alone.

"Quick, in here."

I turned. I saw not only Irina, but coming out of the shadows, Anna and the others. As I turned again I saw the look on the men's faces as they faced fourteen women, some carrying iron bars.

"Are you sure you want to attack me?" I said, trying to hide the trembling in my voice.

"What you saying? We just walking."

It was clear that the men realised they were not going to get anywhere that evening, so of course they pretended that they were out walking.

"Well," said Irina, "if you don't go now, you will not be walking for quite a while."

With suppressed fury on their faces, they turned tail and fled.

I embraced Irina and Anna, and found myself surrounded by the biggest group hug I had ever experienced. From feeling in mortal peril, I felt not only safe, but surrounded by love.

As we walked back together, Irina told me she had been keeping watch, and when she saw the police car leave, she had texted Anna. Between them they had gathered the others and, knowing the way I would be bound to go back, they had waited, leaving only a lookout to text them if I deviated from my usual route. That was the instinct which had told me to carry on.

I was shaken, but immensely relieved. I felt a huge wave of exhaustion pass over me, but was sustained by the camaraderie of my protectors. Cast your bread upon the waters... I had helped them, they were now helping me.

Mac was waiting at the Retreat. He looked anxious.

"What happened, Robin?"

"I was going to ask what happened to your car?"

"They got a call to say that you were staying till late and could come back later."

"Well, not from me they didn't."

I told him what had happened.

"Heads will bloody roll!"

"I am not sure, in the circumstances, that's going to be of any use, Mac."

"You're too kind Robin. But I will tell them all that, from now on, short of a message from me, they stay on your tail."

"Thank you, but this is not sustainable. I fear the only way out is the one I want to take."

Mac looked doubtful, but he knew I was right.

I went to bed exhausted, not even night prayer calmed me. What was going to happen? Even if we did manage to trap Dimitri, there would be others. Jane was cooling on me. My reputation was, to put it mildly, compromised by my notoriety. Could you have a priest associated with a sex scandal? All these, and other anxieties crowded in on me. Eventually, sleep claimed me and black night engulfed me.