Chapter 2

Paul was there in good time. Dulcie arrived alone.

"Peter was called in the small hours to attend a parishioner in hospital. We're on our own, I'm afraid."

They weren't quite alone, several older ladies arrived in time to join the little service. Afterwards, they wanted to talk. Paul contained his hunger and impatience, she listened politely, but after a few minutes she excused herself from the women;

"I've not had breakfast yet and I've promised to visit Farleigh this morning. Perhaps we can meet tomorrow?"

They walked back to the Rectory. Paul wondered at the way Dulcie could look so feminine whilst wearing a dog-collar; could be so feminine and friendly without any hint of sexual tension.

"Cereal? Scrambled eggs on toast?" She waved at a chair at the kitchen table. "Coffee? Fruit juice?"

"Yes, please ... coffee, cereal ... scrambled eggs sounds lovely if you don't mind."

"No problem..."

Linda Cameron was surprised when Paul was preceded into her room by a young woman wearing a dog-collar.

"Linda," the woman said, "I'm Dulcie Hanson..."

Then Paul had to describe how he came to be in her company and why she was there.

"I'm not sure," Linda said uncertainly, "I'm torn between gratitude that Paul is here and anger with God about the way things are."

"That sounds quite reasonable," Dulcie replied, "but I never found a situation that wasn't improved by prayer, even if I didn't get the answer I was looking for." She looked at Linda and could see the strain and tension in her face. "Are you in pain?"

"Some," Linda said, "if I ask, they'll speed up the pump but if I do, I'll spend more time asleep than awake."

"Paul, would you hold Linda's hand? If you don't feel you can pray, just think about how much you love her and want her to be well." Dulcie took Linda's other hand and they sat by the bed. Dulcie's lips were moving, but she was making no sound at first; she frowned a little. She reached in her pocket and produced a little metal pot. Releasing Linda's hand, she unscrewed the lid and, with her thumb smeared a little of the contents – olive oil – on Linda's forehead. "In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit," she said, "I anoint you with oil in accordance with scripture. May it be the oil of gladness, of healing. May you know peace and happiness."

Paul, watching Linda's face, saw – and felt in her hand – as she relaxed.

"How are you feeling?" Dulcie's voice, though gentle, seemed thunderous.

"I feel..." there was wonder in Linda's voice, "I feel ... comfortable. Warm. No pain. There's love. Incredible, overwhelming love. Thank you, Dulcie..." She closed her eyes.

"I'll be going," Dulcie said, "you'll be okay getting home, Paul?"

"Sure," he said, "the bus-stop's only at the end of the road."

"Dulcie," Linda's voice was stronger than it had been but still weak. "Would you come back this evening? I'd like my parents to meet you."

"Gladly, Linda. What time will they be here?"

"Usually from about seven-thirty, but perhaps ... you could come a little earlier?"

"Surely. I'll try to be here about seven, if that's okay?"

Dulcie gently laid her hand on Linda's head. "Bless you, Linda. I'll be back later." And she left.

"Can you tell me what that was about?" Paul sounded worried.

"Not yet, no. There's something I want to ask Dulcie about. Thank you for bringing her; it's really made me feel better."

"It was her idea, really and she brought me today."

"She's lovely, isn't she? And someone you instinctively trust."

Dulcie had a shrewd idea why Linda wanted to see her and wasn't really looking forward to it. Not because she disliked Linda, but...

When she entered the room, shortly after seven, Linda seemed to be asleep and Dulcie sat and took the hand that was laying on the coverlet. Linda didn't open her eyes, but she did speak.

"Hullo, Dulcie. Thank you for coming back. I think you know why I asked."

"Let's say I have a strong suspicion."

"When you prayed for me ... I felt something..." Linda paused and Dulcie was about to speak, but Linda interrupted, "please, let me finish ... and let's be honest between ourselves. I'm ... going to die. It's not that I don't believe I could be healed, it's ... I'm being called. I didn't want to die, but thanks to you, I'm not afraid." She smiled a little and added, "'I know where I'm going.' Almost, I can hardly wait. When you were praying, I was overwhelmed by love. I was wrapped, surrounded, cushioned ... by love. I could have gone right then but ... it could have devastated Paul and my parents. Somehow I've got to prepare them..."

"I understand."

"Yes ... I really think you do ... I think ... they need to be reassured I'm going to be alright ... more than alright. Mum and Dad believe. Paul is ... cynical, I suppose. I hoped sending him away would ... I don't know ... stop him being more cynical? Something like that."

Dulcie nodded and she sat holding Linda's hand for some time until Linda's parents arrived. They looked sad and, when they saw Dulcie, surprised and worried. Dulcie rose and moved toward them.

"Good evening. My name is Dulcie Hanson. I came with Paul Meadows to see Linda this morning and to pray for her."

"You're a Vicar?" It was the man who spoke.

"I'm ordained, yes. My husband is the Vicar, actually, Rector, of St. Mary's Maldon."

"How do you do? I'm Andrew Cameron. This," he nodded at his wife, "is Bridget, my wife." He extended his hand to Dulcie, who took it.

"Mr. Cameron..." she turned and offered her hand to his wife, "Mrs. Cameron. I'm pleased to meet you. I understand you're believers?"