Chapter 5

Sunday brought the paired services of morning and evening. There were several Church of England churches in the town; it always paid to offer a choice if one could so that worshippers could pick the exact form that they enjoyed most.

St Maximus’ was such a low church (in concept, not construction) that one might be forgiven for thinking it not CofE at all. The vicar was a good, kind, considerate man with an unaffected accent from the Midlands. He was unmarried and his congregation was small and transient. People came and went as they travelled through the region looking for work (or selling themselves for work – for some were indeed such women, though there were men who were scarcely better; selling your muscles was hardly different to selling your body). He welcomed all, condemned none. If he had a flaw, and we all do, do we not?, it was that he was proud of his uncondemnatory nature. Yes, pride was his feet of clay.

St Michael’s was ‘middle of the road’ in all things. It did not go in for sung Eucharist; it did not welcome all and sundry (you ought to be respectable before coming to church); it was neither ‘too’ evangelical, nor ‘too’ hide bound by tradition. It was the preferred choice of those for whom church was something to do on Sunday, every Sunday, whether one wanted to or not; but wanted to get on with fleecing customers or visitors for the rest of the week. St Michael’s was definitely not a place for unalloyed joy in being saved by the Blood of the Lamb or any such effusive joy, but neither was it a place for those who took their religion serious and depressed. St Michael’s was for worshippers who took their religion on Sundays so as not to spoil their week. Here the sin of the vicar might be deemed complacency. He had no more intention of shocking his parishioners or challenging them than he had of ever voting Liberal (no matter how arrogant and disagreeable the Tory might be).

The Church of The Holy Redeemer, was the choice for those who liked a little theatre. There was incense and sacred flames and choir boys in red and sumptuous robes. There was sung Eucharist twice a month with some of the congregation determined to outdo each other in their responses. Here was an organist who would play antiphons with additional flourishes, who would welcome all to the church for fully ten minutes of voluntaries and would continue at the end until all had left the church. The Very Reverend Canon Doctor Michael Walker, presiding; was the circus ring master for the spectacle. The audience for his services enjoyed the show. On a good sunny day, the bright stained glass of numerous local saints (donated by worthies who were sure a stained glass window would get them past St Peter at the gate of Heaven) would shine patterns on the opposite walls. To Simon (who was probably more Low Church in sympathy) this was all rather strange, but he was patient and tolerant – that was the very essence of Church of England after all. Michael Walker’s flaws were more hidden than some of the other ministers.

In the 1950s or 1960s Reverend Michael Walker would have featured in The News of The World as ‘the Spanking Vicar’, but this was the early 1900s when families kept quiet about such things and newspapers didn’t pry.

For Michael did have a preference, a foible let us say, for spanking females with a carpet beater. It started even before he was married, his sister had found that. Some forgotten crime that could have resulted in severe sanctions from her father or mother (or both); Michael had offered not to tell but had said she needed to be punished in some way. They had circled around the subject; he had suggested he could spank her with his hand, she had insisted that he did not use his hand and so the carpet beater was agreed. This time it had been done with her bending and pulling up her skirts. The tight, bloomers made him excited; the slaps with the carpet beater made him even more so. So it started.

When he married, perhaps it was inevitable that he would instinctively select a wife who was already involved in some form of physical remonstrations. Marjorie Emily had had a strict upbringing; her mother had often take a switch or cane to her three daughters for even minor infractions. Therefore, when she married, she rapidly found herself subjected to punishments in their bedroom. She accepted this as normal behaviour and objected not at all. When she expressed dissatisfaction or lack of interest in sex, she found that her naked bottom was assailed with a carpet beater, she was encouraged to say how keen she was for him to impose himself at any time of his choosing.