Twenty-Two
Finn insisted on holding Eloise in the dark, chilly church throughout her baptism. Soames Newton was in attendance as vicar’s warden, watching the events avidly in case something happened that he could gossip about in the Stores, yet smiling broadly at all and everything, a jollier individual now he was a widower and plied with lashings of female company and attention. He had made it known he was invited by, no less, Mrs Honoria Sanders for tea today. Finn hated Soames’ bobbing about, lighting candles, carrying his warden’s cross in a jaunty way, croaking the responses in the service when others present in the body of Christ were asked to make them.
The creaking Reverend Wentworth Lytton mumbled and raced through the proceedings. When he muttered, ‘Name this child,’ and Dorrie proudly declared the baby was to be baptized Eloise Veronica, Finn, while glaring darts of displeasure at the vicar, loudly and clearly repeated, ‘E-lo-ise Ve-ron-i-ca.’
Fiona dug him in the ribs. ‘Shh.’
Lytton duly sprinkled the blessed water over Eloise’s forehead, dripping some into her eyes, further angering Finn. Eloise obligingly cried ‘the devil out’ and Finn cuddled and comforted her.
Once outside in the warm and windy sunlight, the party posed in the church doorway while Guy took photographs. Verity took some photos of him with Fiona, holding the baby, and Finn. Finn smiled with joy. He had secretly accepted that Guy was likely to be his future stepfather. Guy was his friend, and Finn wanted everyone to know it, which included the few curious villagers milling about in the churchyard.
‘Congratulations, Mrs Templeton,’ Soames bellowed heartily, slipping between the baptism party and holding out his thick podgy hand to Fiona. ‘You have a beautiful little daughter and a fine son. You’ve made a new life for yourself after going through some very trying circumstances – I know what that’s like – and the best of British to you!’
Finn accepted a vigorous handshake from Soames, Finn thinking the shopkeeper’s buoyancy would never annoy him again.
Dorrie and Greg smiled, as proud of the Templeton children as if they were their own grandchildren. Dorrie wondered what Finn would say to Lytton if he knew just before the service the vicar had asked Fiona if Guy was her child’s father. Finn would be hurt and furious for sure. Fiona had hissed back at the vicar, ‘I can assure you she is my husband’s child so there’s no need for you to be sanctimonious about it. Do you want to baptize my daughter or not?’
‘I did nothing wrong by making the inquiry,’ Lytton had retorted, wheezing in indignation.
‘That was most unchristian of you, Mr Lytton,’ Dorrie had chastised him crossly.
‘Never mind him,’ Guy had said sternly. ‘Only Eloise and God matters in this, and the godparents’ vows. Don’t let him spoil the day.’
Dorrie was afraid Fiona would let the miserable vicar spoil the occasion but Fiona did not. ‘We’re just as good as him,’ she said airily. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong and I and my little girl have every right to enter the church.’
Finn had concentrated on Eloise so far, but now that his mother and sister, and Mrs R, were driving on ahead in Guy’s car to uncover the food already laid out for the party, Finn singled out Belle. ‘You look lovely,’ he said, nonchalantly, for Charlie was virtually stuck to her side, holding her arm linked through his.
In a semi-pleated skirt and matching jacket and perky hat, her hair pinned up, Belle had the appearance of an understated movie star. ‘It was a lovely little ceremony, Finn. One of Reverend Lytton’s better ones actually. You mustn’t mind him. He’s old and bumbling and set in his ways. Charlie and I are going to take Mrs Pentecost and Rebecca in the van to Merrivale. I suppose you’ll walk with Sam and Jenna – oh and young Tilly.’
‘That’s right,’ Finn said. He had been going to ride his bike but remembered he should act as escort to Tilly. ‘We’ll be walking with the Vercoe family.’ But I’ll get you alone at some point.
With Jean pushing the twins in the pram and Denny giving the other younger children a ride on his shoulders and back, the group set off. Finn found himself striding side by side with Tilly. She made a trim little figure.
‘I can’t abide that vicar,’ she whispered vehemently.
‘Why?’ Finn asked uninterestedly, thinking about how he could be near Belle again.
‘He refused to bury poor young Mrs Newton in the churchyard. She was mistress for a while to my sister Cathy. She says Mrs Newton was the sweetest, most innocent person in the world. And she shouldn’t be blamed for doing away with herself; she was a sick lady and couldn’t have been really aware of what she was doing. Now Reverend Lytton has condemned her to wander about in limbo, forever a lost soul because she’s not lying in consecrated ground.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Finn said. He had always scoffed at such notions.
‘Oh, you believe she is in Heaven then?’ Tilly had to run a few steps to keep up with him.
Thoughtfully, Finn slowed down to accommodate her. ‘Your sister believes her mistress was an innocent lady. God’s got nothing against the innocent. It’s not in His nature. All I can say is thank goodness He’s more merciful than humankind.’
Tilly suddenly put her hand through the crook of his arm. ‘Oh, thank you, Finn. I’ll tell Cathy, it’ll be some comfort to her.’
‘It will stop her looking over her shoulder,’ Finn laughed, happy to keep Tilly on his arm. He enjoyed the moments she snatched to chat to him at Petherton. ‘Ghouls, ghosts and the rest of it are stupid superstitious beliefs, nothing more. When you die you either go up or down and you go where God thinks it’s fair. Have you ever been to Merrivale, Tilly?’
‘No, run past it a few times from out in the lane and it always looked dark and scary to me. Can’t wait to see all the changes your mum and Mr Carthewy have made.’
‘I did a lot of the work,’ Finn reminded her.
‘Yes, of course, you’re very talented. Finn, will you do a picture of me? I look awful in photos.’
‘Yes, if you like.’
‘Would you dash one off for me today while I’m all dressed up?’
‘Be pleased to.’
‘And . . .’
Finn glanced at her to see why she had halted and found she was blushing fiercely.
‘What? Don’t be afraid to say.’
‘Could . . . could you, um, make me look pretty?’
Laughing kindly, Finn slipped his arm round her waist and gave her hug. Tilly was such a little sweetheart. ‘That will be easy, you silly, you are the prettiest thing.’
Tilly gulped in surprise to be hauled in against his strong body and was filled with delight. She immediately fell in love with Finn.