Fandango in the Apse! (9 page)

As soon as he reached me, I blurted out the first stupid thing that
entered my head in an effort to hide my surprise. 

‘Great minds think alike, it would seem.’  Oh, God, I groaned inwardly.

‘Yes, it would seem so,’ he said, with “that” smile. 

He had lovely eyes, deep blue with long eyelashes; women would kill for
half their length. 

‘Eddie has taken the children to his mother’s, so I’d thought I’d take
advantage of the peace and quiet.’ 

His smile slipped a little with what looked like disappointment.  ‘Oh,
well don’t let me disturb you.’

‘
No!
You’re not disturbing me,’ I said a little too quickly. 

I knew I should let him carry on by, but I couldn’t.  We stood looking at
each other for a few seconds, each aware of the other in a way that shouldn’t enter
the realms of a priest and parishioner relationship.  Father Michael spoke
first.

‘I was just going into the woods. The clearing should be awash with
bluebells, I thought it might be nice to have a look.’ 

There was an awkward silence while I tried to decide if he was asking me
to accompany him.  His next sentence left me in no doubt.

‘Would you like to join me?’  

As we entered the cloistered atmosphere of the woodland, the air about us
crackled with unspoken intention.  Father Michael led the way and I watched the
delightful play of muscles on his back as he moved through the woods.  He was
wearing jeans and a T-shirt and divested of his priestly attire, I had full
view of his impressive body.  The jeans were snug, showing off his cute bum and
toned thighs.  The slight breeze sexily tousled his light brown hair, and I was
unashamedly losing myself in the sway of his buttocks when he turned and caught
me looking.

‘You OK?’

‘Um…yes fine,’ I said, while willing myself not to blush.

‘Not much further now.’ 

I wouldn’t have given a damn if it had taken a week to get where we were
going; I was lost in the moment.  A minute or so later the shadows of the trees
gave way to late evening sunshine.  I have to admit it was a spectacular
sight.  Before us lay the clearing, completely carpeted in Bluebells.

‘Oh, it’s lovely!’

‘Worth seeing?’  Father Michael asked.

‘Yes… thank you for bringing me here.’

‘My pleasure.’ 

Michael’s smiling eyes riveted me to the spot. Sexual chemistry silently
ricocheted between us, it was impossible to ignore. 

‘We’re in a dangerous situation here,’ I said at last.

‘I know.’

‘It’s wrong.’

‘I know.’

‘We should leave.’

‘I know.’ 

Neither of us moved an inch. 

‘You’re a priest – I’m married.’

‘I know that!  Don’t you think I know that?’ 

Father Michael swung away and walked into the bluebells.  I had no idea
what to do, well… I did, I just didn’t want to do it, walking away now was
impossible.  I watched as he, hands in pockets, wrestled with his thoughts. 
Then his tense shoulders relaxed as he made his decision, he turned and walked
back to me.

‘Come on, you’re right, we should go.’

‘OK,’ I said, but didn’t move.

 Two steps ahead Father Michael stopped and turned.  The next minute I
was in his arms.  It’s difficult to explain – it was as if the dam of every
dormant sexual urge he’d had over the years had burst.   He was everywhere, I
found myself on top of the bluebells with no idea of how I got there.  At some
point, he had shed both his clothes and mine, I was aware of him doing it, I
just didn’t give a damn. 

Girls, I just have to describe him to you.  His tall, toned frame was
perfect.  Broad shoulders tapered down to a firm stomach, blonde hair lightly
covered his long legs and muscled thighs.  Everything about him was perfection
and I do mean,
everything.

The scent of crushed bluebells, the slight breeze, the silence of the
woods save for a few birds getting ready to roost for the night, all added to
the heady atmosphere.  We stopped at nothing, both feeling everything had to be
crammed into this one snatched moment.  I’m sorry if I sound as if I’m waxing
lyrical here, I suppose you had to be there to appreciate it, but I have to
tell you, it was the single, most erotic experience of my life. 

Afterwards, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.  Telling you I was
shell-shocked, would be an understatement.  If I’d given it any serious thought
beforehand, I suppose I would have expected some sort of unsophisticated fumbling
from an inexperienced man of the cloth.  It was a surprise to find this man of
the cloth was no novice.  I couldn’t help it, I had to ask.

‘Do you do this often Father?’ Oh… that didn’t sound right.  I couldn’t
keep calling him Father.

‘No, never.’  His voice was quiet, as if he’d been lost in thought.

‘But this wasn’t your first time?’

‘No.’

‘But…’

‘I had a life before I became a priest, Katie.’

‘Oh!  So that must have made it harder.’

‘What?’

‘Celibacy.’ 

Michael sat up and began dressing, I followed suit.

‘I don’t know… maybe.  I suppose it must be easier if you don’t know what
you’re missing.’

‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘Go on.’

‘How long have you been a priest?’

‘Just coming up for five years, I was twenty-eight when I was ordained,
why?’

‘I just wondered, can I ask you another?

‘Of course.’

‘Why this… now.  Why me?’  Michael sighed heavily, dropping the boot he
had been about to put on.

‘Katie, I wish I could explain, but I honestly don’t know.  What’s
happened is so wrong on so many levels, intellectually I know that.  But, try
telling that to my body.  I’ve been attracted to you since I first saw you… you
have beautiful eyes… expressive… warm, like molten chocolate.  Your hair… your
body, I think about you all the time…’ I wanted to purr like a kitten, his
words made me feel squidgy inside. But I still had questions.

‘Have you ever been attracted to a woman before?   We can’t choose who
we’re attracted to, after all.’

‘No, we can’t, but we can choose what we do about it.’

‘Do you regret this Fa… I mean Michael?’

‘Honestly?  Right now – no – later may be another story.  What about
you?’

‘The same.’

We walked together to the edge of the wood then took opposite paths
home.  Saying goodbye was awkward, I mean let’s face it, what can you say?  “Thanks
for the hot sex in the bluebells Father, see you in confession next week.”  No,
I don’t think so…

It was an interesting thought though, was it possible to confess to adultery
and gain absolution from your partner in crime?  Well, it made me chuckle
anyway.

In bed that night listening to Eddie’s snoring, I couldn’t help wondering
what sort of retribution my wickedness would attract.  The awful thing was, I
couldn’t even use the need for revenge as an excuse – I hadn’t given Eddie a
thought.  

By the following morning, guilt had reared its ugly head and was giving
me palpitations.  I had fewer morals than an alley cat.  I knew this, but still
couldn’t feel remorse – I mean, come on, how could you regret something so
fantastic?  I eventually settled my conscience to a manageable level by
promising myself to stay well clear of Father Michael, the church, and anywhere
else, I might meet him.

This lasted all of a week.  Look, I’m human, I just couldn’t stay away,
OK?  I tried fooling myself as I showered and put on my most flattering dress
that I only wanted to make sure he was all right.  It was a mercy-mission.   Mercy
missions were fine as far as I was concerned. 

From my discreet enquiries, I knew confessions were heard at the church
on Thursdays.   Hoping Michael would be one of the priests in attendance, I
entered by a side door.  I kept my eyes averted from the alter and the crucifix
hanging above it, sure a bolt of lightning would reduce me to a pile of cinders
for having the audacity to enter the church.  

I made my way to the confessional boxes.  Father Murphy’s name card was
on the door of the right hand side and much to my relief Father Daley’s on the
left.  Still avoiding looking up, I sat in the pew and let people go ahead of
me until I was sure I was the last person waiting.

I entered the confines of the box, and found I couldn’t speak.  Seeing
Michael through the dim light of the grille wearing his cassock and stole was
my undoing.  What had possessed me to do such a stupid thing as coming here?  I
was just about to leave when Michael spoke.

‘Do you want to make a confession, my child?’ 

Oh – my – God!

‘Um… yes, no...’ Michael jerked at the sound of my voice.

‘Katie?’

‘Yes it’s me. I wanted to see if you are OK, but I shouldn’t have come
here.  I’m sorry… I’ll go.’

‘Katie hold on. We can’t talk here, can you wait?’

‘Until after confession?  Everyone’s gone, I was the last.’

‘Can you go and sit down and I’ll be with you in a minute… is that OK?’

I watched as Michael left the confessional, removed his nameplate and
walked down the side aisle.  At the alter he bowed his head and genuflected before
going through a small door to the left.  Father Murphy, by the looks of it, had
also removed his nameplate.  A few moments later Michael reappeared.  To my
relief he had taken off his Surplice and Stole. His black clerics and white tab
made him seem less priest like, although why that should be, I had no idea.  He
smiled warmly as he reached my pew.

‘Thanks for waiting, Katie.’

‘That’s OK; I think we need to talk.’

‘You’re right of course; I’m just not sure this is the right place to do
it.  Anyone could come in.’ Michael looked around as if trying to decide where
the best place would be.  Far away from the church was my choice, but before I
could say anything, he was beckoning me forward.

‘Follow me,’ he said, as he started back down towards the alter.  He
didn’t genuflect as he passed it this time and I was astonished when he opened
the same door he had used previously.  Never having entered the inner sanctum,
I was vaguely interested in my surroundings.  However, I didn’t get a chance to
take in the trappings of the various Church services before Michael opened a
door to another room… well, little more than a large cupboard really. 

The dim bulb did little to illuminate the surroundings, but from what I
could see, it seemed to be a storeroom. Someone had piled discarded chairs
against one wall, and boxes containing what looked like prayer books and
hymnals against another, but most surprising was a small battered easy chair
against the third.

   Although I was aware of the need for subterfuge, the idea of hiding in
a musty cupboard at the back of the church with a devilishly handsome priest, suddenly
struck me as incredibly funny.  I was sure nobody but me could get into a
situation like this.  I started giggling and once I’d started, I couldn’t stop. 
Michael, finally aware of the affect his incongruous behaviour was having on
me, started laughing too.

‘Shush!’ he whispered, which made me laugh all the more.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Michael,’ I said, between fits of giggles. ‘But this is
so funny; can you imagine if Father Gus walked in now?’

‘He won’t, he’s away, but Father Murphy’s about, so shush!’  The thought
of Father Murphy catching us in “flagrant delicto” sobered me.

‘He’s not likely to come back, is he?’

‘No, I don’t think so; he mentioned a programme he wanted to watch.’

‘Oh, so that’s why he scuttled off so quickly after confession.’ 
Michael’s raised eyebrow caused me to issue a contrite, ‘Sorry.’ 

Now that our laughter had subsided, I noticed a subtle change in the
atmosphere of the dusty little room.  An oppressive sexual awareness had us
eyeing each warily. 

‘Why in here, Michael?’  He didn’t answer.

‘Michael?’

‘You smell lovely, Katie,’ he said softly.

‘Michael… we have to talk.’

‘I know, but not now.’  

OK, so what would you have done?  The righteous, morally above reproach of
you, will think I should have high-tailed my sorry ass out of there and you may
be right.  However, those of you with a spirit of adventure and slightly lax
morals like mine would probably have done exactly as I did.  Think about it. 
You’re standing in close proximity to a gorgeous, but forbidden man, which in
itself is enticing.  Add to that a predatory look in his eye that tells you he
wants you, and a memory of what you have already shared, and I’m sorry, but the
combination becomes too much to resist.   Well it was for me, so I shall
disregard any righteous indignation aimed in my direction and tell you, I had a
whale of a time!

I’m a bit
loath to admit it – and shame on me, but those two encounters set the tone for
that whole summer.  Father Michael and I met as often as his schedule would
allow – usually once a week.  Any scruples either of us had, we buried as our
infatuation with each other grew. 

At home, I often found myself humming as I relived each meeting, replaying
in minute detail everything he had said in his soft, Irish brogue.  God, it was
wonderful to feel wanted.  I had no doubt Michael wanted me – his actions
proved that.  He was lying his head off, going against everything he held dear
to be with me, and in a strange way I was grateful.  I greedily looked forward
to each time I could see him.

We even conspired to have a weekend away.  It was mid-August and Michael
was due to spend his annual fortnight at home in Ireland.  By happy
coincidence, the boys were also going away with their grandparents. 

We were sitting on a rocky out-crop in our favourite place in the woods,
well away from prying eyes, when it was first mentioned.  Michael had been
delayed and rather than cut our time together short, he had arrived in his
clerics.  Normally he wore casual clothes on his time off and I was used to
seeing him that way, sometimes I even found it disappointing.  Not that day
though.  This is really awful… but I’ll tell you anyway, as it seems pointless
not to after spilling the beans on everything else.  You see the problem was;
part of the attraction for me was that Michael
was
a priest.  It was
taboo, it was dangerous, it was disgraceful, but… Hellfire, it was exciting!