St Stephen’s vicar ‘under strain’
The Revd Alan Franks, vicar of St
Stephen’s, is said to be ‘a broken man’ and is holding talks with the Bishop of
Felpersham over the future of his ministry, according to Church sources.
‘Alan feels he simply cannot connect with
his flock on a spiritual level,’ said a close colleague. ‘He still regrets his
failure, as he sees it, to counsel Rob Titchener. And he was very hurt about being
virtually excluded from Caroline Sterling’s funeral last year, though he
understood, her being an atheist and everything.
‘With Nic Grundy’s tragic death, Alan
thought he was finally getting through to Will and was helping the family. But
now Will is saying he won’t go to the funeral because he won’t believe a word
of Alan’s sermon.’
Friends say that the Revd Franks is even
doubting his vocation and may give up his ministry. ‘Alan is at rock bottom,’
his colleague said. ‘It’s only the success of the homeless shelter at The Elms
that’s keeping him going, but there’s trouble there too. Clients have said they
will stop going if Pat Archer serves them any more lentil bake. They say they’d
rather be out on the snowy streets. It’s very sad.’
Your week in the stars
What does fate have in store for readers in
the week ahead? Our resident astrologer Janet Planet reveals all…
Taurus
Competitive Bulls who wear uniform to work
will have fun this week, as Sport Relief prompts you to increase your activity.
In fact, you’ll find it hard to stop banging on about how user-friendly the app
is and how it’s such a good cause. Just beware you don’t spend so much time
focusing on your step count that you ignore the massive hints about an
attempted murder that people keep giving you.
Cancer
A career change is in the offing, and
anything involving livestock – especially pigs – is likely to be lucky for you.
Just be careful others do not take advantage of your good nature for their own
ends. Close family members have a habit of stitching you up and getting away
with it. Be strong, Cancerians!
Librans need to show resilience now,
especially if you are involved in a wellbeing-related business as Jupiter, the
planet of health, is in retrograde. Sadly, problems will not go away just
because you put them behind a wall paid for by your father. You will need to bring
all your spiritual resources to bear if your wealth planet is not to disappear
completely into Uranus.
The Trials of …. Alistair Lloyd
In
the latest chapter of our passionate Spring saga, by award-winning romantic
novelist Lavinia Catwater, our hero is plunged into despair – but can he fight
to win back the woman he loves?
Alistair chuckled quietly to himself as he
entered the riding school. It really was quite amusing, that joke Anisha had
made, asking the farmer if it was this udder, or the other udder, on that
Friesian heifer! I must tell Shula, he thought… but then he saw her, barking
instructions at young Anton as he trotted round the ring. She wore that
disappointed frown, the look he knew so well. If only he hadn’t been such a wet
blanket about her plan to rehabilitate horses on Goa! No wonder it had been
winceyette jimjams on and lights out at 9pm ever since. Alistair sighed. Shula
could be a bit eggy, but he was fond of her in his way. And what he had planned
for the evening might cheer the old girl up a bit….
*
By six o’clock, Alistair was quite looking
forward to the evening ahead. It was a shame they would miss Shetland at 9pm but there was always
catch-up... He was just fiddling with the remote to set a reminder when he
heard Shula clump downstairs. ‘Alistair, you naughty vet!’ she breathed. ‘What
are you doing? Is it a film to get us… in the mood?’ Dismayed, he turned round.
Shula was wearing fluffy mules and a shiny beige dressing-gown thing – not very
practical at all. ‘Oh – no…’ he stammered. ‘I mean… you look very glam darling.
But we don’t need a film to show us what to do, do we?’ This was going well.
Shula was positively purring as he led her masterfully into the kitchen. ‘Why,
Alistair… the kitchen? Oooh… where do you want me? Over the Aga?’ ‘Not yet, not yet,’ he said, thrusting a
pestle and mortar at her. ‘You’ve got to grind the spices first. Look, the
recipe for the Goan curry’s just here, in the book Caroline gave you. I thought
we could cook it together…’
Suddenly, there was a strangled scream and
Shula whirled out of the kitchen, lobbing a block of tamarind at his head as
she went. Alistair slumped into a chair. Where had he gone wrong this time?....
*
The following evening, Alistair still felt
numb. Shula had left him – just like that, not even taking her phone or the
tailormade hunt master’s coat he’d bought her. He was sitting listlessly,
catching up with Shetland, when there
was a knock at the door. He leapt up. Was it Anisha with the results of the
biopsy on that Boxer they were worried about? But it was Kenton who stood
there, looking sheepish. ‘Hey, mate,’ he said. ‘My twin sis has come to stay at
the Bull for a bit. She says she’s sorry, but she needs some time and a few
clean pairs of pants. Can I come in?’
Alistair stood aside wordlessly as Kenton
bounded up the stairs uninvited. ‘Is this her drawers drawer?’ he shouted down
to Alistair, who would normally have smiled at such a clever pun. ‘Leave it –
I’ll do it!’ he said. The thought of Kenton bundling Shula’s things into a bag
without folding them nicely made him uncomfortable. But he was too late. Kenton
was holding aloft a handful of Shula’s sturdy full-leg briefs. ‘Blimey, mate –
what do you buy the poor girl for Valentine’s Day?’ Alistair was mildly offended.
‘Oh well, you know, Shula and I, at our age..’ But Kenton was looking at him
with a pitying smile. ‘Oh, mate, mate…’ he said.
To be
continued….
