Reverend Simon Morris scanned through a long list of church notices. Holy Week was such a busy time for the parish vicar, and he still hadn't finished his special sermon ready for Easter Sunday.
"Palm Sunday was really well-attended," he said, typing something on his laptop. "Now there are one or two church notices I need to read through."
His wife Jenna walked into the living room. "Oh before I forget, Simon, Judith Anderson from the Sunday School had a word with me after the service. She wishes it to be known that her grandson Kyle is trans, and now wants to be known as Ellie.
John Pollard from the Men's Society has split up from his partner and wishes for her name to be removed from the church hall coffee rota too."
"Ah, right, thanks. I'd better make a note of that. Are Gordon and Mia up to speed on the Maundy Thursday service's music? I know he normally does a choir and organ practice then, but..."
"Already emailed them, Simon," Jenna replied. "Relax. Everything is under control."
"Choir practice for you tonight? I must say, I think it was a genius idea of Gordon's to combine our church's choir with the Guild Voices, just for our Easter service. Our choir is small, so it'll be nice to have a bigger group of singers for the holiest day in our Christian calendar."
"Oh yes, the bigger the better," Jenna replied with a smirk. She'd just joined the Guild Voices, a mixed-voice choir of around twenty-five singers who performed several concerts a year. The choir was formed with the aim of singing the whole range of music both accompanied and acapella; both religious and secular, from the renaissance pieces of Byrd and Tallis to great oratorios such as Handel's "Messiah." In addition to traditional works, they also performed classical versions of popular music. Jenna was enjoying the weekly recitals, and not just because of the music. The choirmaster was a chap called Derek Blackledge, and on more than one occasion, Jenna had noticed him staring at her.
"Last year, the Guild Voices performed at Evensong at York Minster," Reverend Morris said. "Gosh, I'm so looking forward to our Easter Sunday Service! We'll definitely have a bigger congregation than St. Peter's..."
"Ooh, do I sense a rivalry between churches, Simon?"
"Well, a bit un-Christian of me to say, but I can't stand that Reverend Conway. He completely blanked me at annual clergy conference last month. I don't know what his problem is."
"Not all vicars are as wonderful as you, my love."
He smiled and resumed typing. "They've just got a new organist there too. Conway was raving about him. Younger bloke, seems to have the women of St. Peter's all hot and bothered. Edward, I think his name is."
"Ha, he won't be anywhere near as good as Gordon is," Jenna said. "Nobody plays organ as good as he does."
"I don't think it's his playing they're interested in! Apparently he resembles the actor Robert Pattinson. I suppose that's one way to get more younger people attending church services."
Jenna almost dropped the cup of coffee she was holding. "Fancy that." She stifled a gasp. I can't believe it. That was the organist who played for the King at Liverpool Cathedral last year! She thought. He was a cutie for sure...had a nice cock too, as I recall. Small world. Never imagined he'd end up here in our town.
The Guild Voices choir practices took place every Wednesday evening in a function room at the town hall. The room was spacious and blessed with good acoustics, a piano and a box organ. Jenna arrived earlier than normal, and gathered up her music books off the car's passenger seat.
"Hope none of the others are there yet," she smiled to herself.
Derek Blackledge was alone in the function room, adjusting a music stand. He was a tall, stocky man, around sixty years of age. He was wearing a pale blue open-necked shirt, black trousers and rimless glasses. His buzz-cut silver hair was balding. He had a round face and a wide, flat nose, which as Jenna had overheard another member of the choir unkindly say, "made him look like he'd been bashed in the face with a frying pan." That wasn't strictly true, and Jenna didn't think him that bad looking at all. He spoke in a clipped, staccato sort of way.
Derek looked up as Jenna entered the room. In the four weeks she'd been a member of the Guild Voices, the stunning redhead had certainly livened up the group of mostly boomer-age singers. Jenna was one of the most beautiful and charming women he had ever met, and he couldn't understand what she saw in her husband, the much-older Reverend Morris. The good vicar was a kind and decent chap, but seemed duller than Skegness in January.
"Uh...evening Jenna! You're very early! I was just..."
