Chapter 5

Anh and Terry were joined at the hip all week. His parents could not help but notice, but they just smiled. When the shops in Huntingdon opened after the holiday, they found a ring that Anh liked, set with a ruby ... but her main concern was that it had nothing to catch on.

"You're going to take me sailing, aren't you? I'm not about to take my ring off, so it's got to be safe when I'm wearing it."

Terry hadn't thought that far ahead, he was too busy enjoying the moment. They walked by the river, explored the town ... and sat in the church. Betsy arranged for her to talk to the Vicar because she'd kept asking them to explain their faith and Terry, as I said, joined at the hip – went with her.

When they were settled in a sofa in his lounge, "well! Are you two going to let me marry you?"

They looked at him in surprise.

"Normally, we'd be sitting in my study, but I've only got single seats in there," he said, "they're quite comfortable, but, well, I just didn't want to separate the two of you." He smiled at them; "I know you're here so I can talk to you," he said, looking at Anh, "about the Christian Faith, but I thought, looking at the two of you..."

"That perhaps our relationship might be a higher priority than my curiosity?" Asked Anh, quietly.

"A more immediate priority, rather than a higher one," he corrected. "I took one look at the two of you and knew you were as deeply in love as any two young people I've ever met. Traditionally, a wedding takes place in the parish where the bride resides, but I'd be delighted to officiate here at All Saints. Three weeks for the Banns and the licence..." he raised a questioning eyebrow.

Anh looked at Terry. "Annie," he said, "I ... I'll marry you anywhere, any how, any time. Perhaps we'd better talk about it later?"

She nodded and stretched up a little to kiss him and they were interrupted a little later by the Vicar clearing his throat. "Can I offer you refreshments? Tea, coffee?"

"Oh, weak black tea, please," Anh said.

"Coffee, please," added Terry.

The Vicar left the room, returning accompanied by his wife bearing a tray.

"Now," he said, "let's get acquainted. My name is Constantine; I'd like it if you called me Connie, and this is my wife Penny. I'd rather we weren't all formal, if that's okay with you? Now ... Annie?"

Anh nodded.

"And you know Terry, dear."

"Welcome, Annie, Terry," his wife said, distributing beverages. "I hope that's weak enough," she said, handing a mug to Anh.

"That looks fine," she answered, "thank you."

"Right," said the Vicar, "where to start..."

"Start at the beginning, go through to the end, filling in the middle," his wife smiled.

"Well, I suppose the beginning would be the creation..."

After about half an hour, " ... so you see, I believe it's not about obeying rules, though there are rules as guidelines, it's about ... letting God dwell in you, to teach you how to behave in a loving way in any situation. But if ... or rather when, we get things wrong, it's about admitting it, saying sorry and trying to put things right as far as we can."

"Which may sound simple," his wife interjected, "but often isn't. The hardest thing is that sometimes people get hung up on the rules and either miss the point by obeying the letter of the rules, not the spirit of them, or by rejecting the whole thing."

"So ... how do I... let God dwell in me?" Anh asked, glancing at Terry.

"My dear," said the Vicar, "you just ask Him. If you want to join the Church, then we baptise you and arrange for the Bishop to confirm you. Other churches do things differently, but Baptism is the fundamental rite of admission."

"Thank you," Anh said thoughtfully, "I think I understand better, now."

They returned to Ipswich the day after New Year. Terry left her at her flat and returned to Emily Jane, which was very cold; his first, most urgent task to get the stove roaring, the second to boil a kettle as the stove was starting.

He sat on the sofa; even the fabric felt cold; his hands wrapped round a mug of cocoa. Something was wrong ... what was wrong? Something was missing? He sipped at the cocoa, got up and walked through the barge, checking the cabins; went on deck, checked the Master cabin and the forecastle. Everything was as it should be ... but ... something was missing?

Below, in the saloon, the stove was heating up and beginning to make a difference to the temperature. He sipped at his cooling cocoa, trying to work out what was bothering him, finally draining the mug and moving to the galley to wash it and think of something for his supper. He heard a banging on the companionway hatch and was tempted to ignore it.

'Oh well, if it's some inquisitive visitor, it might take my mind of whatever it is that's bothering me.'

Sliding the hatch back and climbing the companionway ladder, he saw Anh the moment his head cleared the coaming.

"Annie?"

"Terry ... can I come down?"

"Of course!"

She passed him a hold-all and clambered down, moving aside so he could close the hatch again, then flung herself against him. "I felt so lonely."

"Come in the saloon; I've got the stove going."

She stripped off her fleece jacket and woolly hat as she followed him in, tossing them over a chair, curling up in his lap as soon as he sat on the sofa, pressing herself against him. They sat like that, then the penny dropped for Terry.

"That's what was wrong! Why didn't I realise?"

"What was wrong, Terry?" Her voice was muffled by her face being pressed against his chest.

"Well, you see, I started the fire going in the stove, and put the kettle on, made myself cocoa and sat down, but I couldn't settle. I knew there was something wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I went right through the barge checking everything; went on deck, the master cabin, the forecastle, checked the warps ... everything seemed fine, but I just knew something wasn't right..."

"So ... what was it?"

"You!"

"ME?" She sat up and looked at him, "what was wrong about me?"

"You weren't here."

She flung herself against him again, arms round his neck until he jokingly made choking noises; she loosened her grip then. "Sorry, Terry, I didn't mean to strangle you..."

"I was joking, Annie. You're here now, and everything's okay."

"Can I stay?" She pulled back and looked at him, taking in his expression. "Silly question, huh?"

"Just a bit. Though, if it's going to be a long-term arrangement, I'd better have a word with the office, or move into your flat with you, perhaps. Anyway ... tonight ... Normally I'd wear thermal pyjamas and wrap up in a thick duvet and a woolly hat over my ears, but if I'm sharing a bed with you, why don't we bring a mattress in here and have the benefit of the stove?"

In answer, she just kissed him. "What about supper?"

"I was going to make an omelette and chips..."