XIV
Faith and Charity
Diane 2042
Reverend Diane Dawkins wept while she watched the television news film of the dead and dying of Rawalpindi. If the wretched souls hadn't already died from the intense heat and blast of the nuclear explosions, they would surely do so from radiation poisoning. Perhaps those who were dead were the lucky ones. Cancerous growths and the birth of deformed children were all that most of the survivors had to look forward to.
Her usual response to such international crises was to dedicate a section of her weekly sermon to the matter and place a collection box for the relevant charity at the church door. Somehow, this didn't seem adequate for the scale of the current disaster. What should Diane, as a minister of the Church of England, do to help the tens of millions of people who'd suffered and the maybe hundreds of millions who might suffer in the future in a subcontinent sandwiched between astonishing economic growth and the famine, disease and devastation that resulted from the world's first real nuclear war, limited though it thankfully had been.
Diane's first response was to pick up the telephone and call Doris to get her advice. Who else could be first choice? The phone rang and after trilling for a short while Doris' sweet voice replied.
"What is it, sweetheart? I'm still in the office."
"Are you working late?"
"Again," Diane's lover replied.
Doris' position as senior project manager at Accenture IBM often entailed long hours as meetings overran, schedules were missed, and the customer requirements were once more changed. On the other hand, she was senior enough to be able to choose which projects to work on. Or, rather, which ones not to. She avoided projects for defence contractors, tobacco companies and others whose trade she believed to be unethical. Diane wasn't sure whether it was Doris' strict moral code of conduct or her body that made her love her so. As a Vicar of Christ, Diane was grateful that it wasn't for Doris' beauty alone. What would the good Lord say if that were so?
"It's nothing, darling," said Diane. "We can talk about it later."
"At your place or mine?"
Although Doris and Diane had been lovers for over four years, they still maintained separate homes. It wasn't because Doris was especially mindful of any disapproval from her congregation. The vicar had been open about her sexuality from the first day that she discovered that she loved women as much as, maybe even more than, she did men. It was more because the two women treasured their separate space. They'd both lived alone for so many years and neither of them was in the first bloom of youth. Perhaps, it was a step too far that they should share more than a bed on a permanent basis.
"Should we get married?" Doris once asked Diane.
"Although the Church of England is comparatively liberal on gay relationships and believes in the sanctity of marriage," the vicar answered, "I'm not sure that even this far into the twenty-first century the church has progressed quite as far as to unreservedly welcome same-sex marriage for its ministers. It's still an issue for many in the Anglican community: especially in Africa and the Southern states of America. My first duty as a vicar is to my flock and if there are people in my congregation who're uncomfortable with the idea of their vicar marrying another woman then I believe I should respect their opinion."
"Very diplomatic," said Doris. "But my offer remains open all the same."
It was nearly ten o'clock when the vicarage doorbell rang and Doris arrived. She was a slender woman whose hair was flecked with grey. Her hair perfectly complemented by her silver-grey eyes. She was wearing a business suit and the stern high heels that made a woman of quite average height appear quite tall. Diane knew her lover would soon be divested of her uncomfortable, restrictive work clothes and that as always the couple would reclined together naked on the sofa in the living room in front of the television set.
Diane in the nude was much as one would expect. She was not a slim woman. In fact, she was moderately plump but not unattractively so. Her bosom was just as generous uncovered as it promised to be from what could be seen in the contours of her cassock.
The two lovers wound their arms about each other and relished the sensation of each other's flesh.
"Why did you call me at work, sweetheart?" asked Doris as she idly twirled her fingers around the huge aureoles of her lover's nipples.
"I didn't know you were still at work," said Diane. "I thought you might have been home. Or perhaps on the train back from London."
"While the project is in its present mess," said Doris, "there's going to be nothing but problem after problem. The legal department haven't quite worked out the international legal implications yet..."
"International legal implications?"
