Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for unnatural ones; in the same way, men committed shameful acts with other men and received in themselves the due penalty for their error.
Romans 1:26-27
It was a verse she'd heard many times although Janine thought it one of those skating on thin ice verses. She never used it in any sermon, for fear of offending any gay people. Nevertheless, it came back to her in that moment as she washed her hands and contemplated herself in the mirror. Her dog collar was lying on the couch and the top three buttons of her blouse were undone. Her shoulder length brown hair was somewhat messed up but they were the outer signs of her encounter with Katie. Her heart was still racing and her mouth felt dry. How long since she'd felt this?
Too long, she thought and for years she'd gone along in a blissful kind of ignorance. It wasn't as if she didn't have offers but they were few and far in between. The men who wanted her weren't exactly the cream of the crop. The vast majority were widowers or middle aged farmers, who saw the buxom thirty three year old vicar as a worthy trophy and Janine had too much self respect to become a mere trophy wife. So how was it she'd let a woman practically seduce her? These things didn't just happen and as she dried her hands she went back over the last few weeks to pinpoint when she'd crossed the line.
Kate Goldsmith was a young woman from London whose mother had just died. She'd first met her at the vicarage to discuss the upcoming funeral. Kate seemed a little distant and she felt as if she was talking into an echo chamber, the woman merely nodded at and agreed with everything but when Janine asked if she'd like to say a few words she blanched.
"Perhaps not," she slid a hand beneath the white blouse, "I think it's best to let you and her friends handle the service."
"Of course," she shifted her position, "if you change your mind?"
"I won't," she flicked at her long blonde hair, "I know it sounds strange, we usually want to say goodbye but I said my goodbyes to mum a long time ago. We only really got back into contact again when she got sick, the prospect of death changes most people."
Janine contemplated her next question carefully before speaking.
"If you feel like talking about it, I could make time. Sometimes it helps to open up to a stranger," she looked past her for a moment.
"There's not much to tell," she leaned back in the leather recliner, "she rejected my lifestyle in university and if she'd had any other children I know she would have cut me out of the family altogether but I was an only child."
"Your lifestyle?" Janine ran a cursory glance over the grey skirt suit and white blouse, "what kind of lifestyle are we talking about? You're not a contract killer for the government are you?"
"No, nothing like that," she smiled, "I'm gay."
"Oh," she pushed her glasses up her nose, "well it's not a crime, I had a few gay parishioners back in North London and I never treated them any differently."
"Good to know," she leaned on her palm, "how times have changed, I live in Camden."
"I was in Barnsbury, we were practically neighbours."
"I guess so," her blue eyes softened, "not that I'm much of a churchgoer, sorry."
"Don't be," she patted her hand, "I'd be a terrible lesbian as well."
She laughed at that and as she farewelled her, Janine had the strangest feeling she'd made a friend although there were precious few clues. She was polite, well mannered and interested enough in the subject at hand but her body language spoke of a woman who was used to sitting in meetings listening to people waffle on.
However the name Kate Goldsmith popped up on
The Independent
website that night and curious, she clicked on the story to find herself looking at a picture of Kate outside the Supreme Court in London. She was wearing a barrister's gown and wig. The story was just a brief one on the death of her mother and her intention to attend the funeral. She was just about to leave a comment when she happened to read the hateful and spiteful comment from a previous visitor. It was shocking that such people existed, this person wanted to see her thrown into the grave as well. It was just one of over two dozen similar comments ranging from death wishes to outright mockery. She declined to leave her own comment but that got her curious and thus she googled the name Kate Goldsmith and was shocked at the thousands of hits that came back.
Top Human Rights Lawyer Banned in Israel.
It was also from
The Independent
and showed Kate with a Palestinian man. She'd successfully prevented the U.K government from prohibiting him entering the U.K to promote B.D.S. The government was appealing the ruling but it looked as if their appeal would falter. The Israeli government had slapped a ten year ban on her entering the country. Israel was just one of several countries that had banned her, Egypt and Uzbekistan had also banned her. An Egyptian court was currently trying her in absentia for terrorism. However it seemed Kate Goldsmith had become something of a heroine to oppressed people all over the world. There were blog posts lauding her achievements in defending human rights, appeals sponsored by her to raise money for women and girl's education, at least one Facebook page was dedicated to news about Kate and then there was her own Facebook page. She spent the better part of the night going through the posts, they went back several years and it seemed she'd been all over the world. She contemplated sending a friend request but decided instead to like a few posts before retiring to bed. It seemed unbelievable that the late Edna had refused to allow her only child to have any input into her funeral. She'd been quite firm on that matter, leaving everything up to her friends and fellow churchgoers.
Kate was wearing a black satin, pussybow blouse and black skirt the next day and looked very elegant, she'd certainly attracted the attention of several eligible bachelors and seemed to acknowledge their smiles and greetings with politeness.
The funeral itself was what she sarcastically called, the standard dispatch. Despite frequent contact with Edna she never knew her. Edna was a regular but not receptive to a female vicar. After the grave side prayer an hour or so later she found herself talking to Kate whilst the mourners chatted amongst themselves.
"It was a nice funeral," Kate stared at the hole in the ground, "if there is such a thing."
"Thank you, I wish I could have added some of your words."
"A nice touch perhaps but totally inappropriate," she grimaced, "it would probably have brought her back from the dead just to object."
Janine opened her mouth to say something and then changed her mind. It wasn't so much what she said but the way she said it, almost off handed and casual.
"I have to catch up with some old friends," she smiled tightly, "but perhaps you could come around tomorrow, say around eleven? She has some things she wanted to pass onto you."
"To me?"
"Uh huh," Kate held out her hand, "thank you for taking the service."
"It was an honour," she swallowed the hurt.
That night she returned to the computer to do some more reading on Kate and found herself getting drawn into her. She'd lived a remarkable life. She was thirty years old and yet she'd already had a huge impact on human rights worldwide. It was with some hesitation that she eventually sent out a friend request and followed her Twitter feed.
As she prepared for bed sometime after midnight she was disturbed by a notification on her phone from Facebook.
Kate Goldsmith has accepted your friend request
and a few seconds later there was another notification from Facebook Messenger.
Kate has invited you to join Messenger.
"In for a penny," she accepted it and kept unbuttoning her blouse.
Kate: Thanks for your kind words this morning, looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.
Janine: Thanks, I've just been reading up on you, banned in three countries?
Kate: Perils of speaking truth to power I'm afraid, at least crucifixion is illegal!
Janine: I was amazed, still am. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow/today.
Kate: Me too, well got to go. Hard to undress and text at the same time.
Janine: Tell me about it, so much for multi-tasking!
Nevertheless, the conversation continued for the better part of an hour before they finally signed off after putting the meeting forward until eleven o'clock.
Katie: I need my beauty sleep, sleep tight and don't forget to pat your pussy.
Janine: LOL. I'll take that under advisement!
Janine removed her glasses and started cleaning them methodically. Had it started then? The remark was lewd but no worse than she'd experienced previously. She'd made a point of being a down to earth vicar, open to everyone even those who might inadvertently offend her but she did feel a little uneasy as she knocked at the door of Edna's cottage. The door was opened a few moments later. Katie was wearing a white shirt and black jeans that looked as if she'd been poured into them and forgot to say stop. It was because she was on the bottom step and level with her breasts that she suddenly noticed they were quite large. Either that or she was wearing a push up bra, she could clearly see the imprint through the material.
"Come in," she took a step back.
"I don't think I've ever been this far inside before," she looked at the pictures on the wall and picked out several of a much younger Kate, which seemed to be in chronological order. The father had left when Kate was around five or so it seemed because there were no pictures of him after then. There were three more pictures of a prepubescent girl and then two of the school girl and finally one of Kate in a graduation gown. Edna was beside her but the smile seemed forced in contrast to Kate's happy smile.
"She wanted me to become a vicar," Kate murmured, "but when she discovered my sexual orientation all that changed. She never totally rejected me but she refused to meet any of my friends or partners. Any time I spent with her was like extracting blood from a stone, I had to treat the entire visit like a session with a client. There were certain things that must not be discussed and I could only come to stay at certain times of the year. Towards the end I just gave up and we drifted apart until she was diagnosed with cancer," she inclined her head in the direction of the kitchen.
"The prospect of death changes everyone and she softened her outlook and somewhat grudgingly accepted that perhaps I was better off with women anyway," she led her into the kitchen.
"She left me the house and a detailed list of who was to get her personal possessions," she nodded at a small bag of clothes, "these are for you."
"Oh," Janine adjusted her glasses, "I see."
"My mother was very organised," she untied the bag, "everything was itemised, she even left me clothes as well but they're going straight to the charity shop. I don't do polka dot dresses unless it's a costume party and there's plenty of alcohol."
"Me neither," Janine took out a blouse, "very eighties, and elegant. I never thought she liked me to be honest."
"I know about that," she smirked, "but if it's any comfort she thought you were one of the better vicars although she was worried that you weren't married yet."
