‘The nerve of her,’ hissed Julia, putting down the kettle. ‘Little trollop.’
‘I think perhaps she’s more sinned against than sinning – in some ways,’ said Adam.
‘Good gracious, what on earth makes you say that? Nobody’s forcing her to shag every man in the village. Oh, don’t tell me you’re another one.’
‘Another one of what?’ Adam turned to Julia, his heart beating faster, as if he knew what she was going to say.
‘Bitten by the love bug. Though it’s more of a sex bug in her case. Are you, vicar?’
‘What? Of course not! She’s a parishioner, that’s all. I feel responsible for her spiritual welfare.’
‘Don’t. That one isn’t convertible. She lives to shag, and that’s all there is to it.’
‘Is it?’
Julia put her hands on her hips and glared.
‘I think I’m going to need to take you in hand, vicar, if you’re going to start getting romantic notions about Evie Witts.’
He looked towards the object of his desire, wondering if what he felt for her was romantic. It wasn’t pure, and it should be. How could he make his wanting of her pure?
‘Take me in hand?’ he echoed, turning back to Julia with a perplexed smile.
‘Save you from yourself.’
She sounded like he did when he reflected on Evie.
‘I don’t need saving,’ he said. ‘I’m the man who saves. Who tends. Who shepherds.’
‘You need a flock for that,’ said Julia acidly. ‘Mind you, we seem to have a decent turn-out. I didn’t think anyone would come.’
As it happened, a gratifyingly high proportion of villagers had not known what the manor was being used for, and weren’t best pleased.
However, their objection didn’t seem to be to the pornography per se.
‘We don’t like people coming in and making changes to the place,’ one venerable old gentleman put it. ‘Saxonhurst people like the village kept in the old way.’
‘They ain’t doing anything wrong,’ said Evie. ‘They bought the place fair and square.’
‘Well, I’ll admit none of us lifted a finger to help Ms Shields in her misfortune,’ said a woman to Evie’s left. ‘For personal reasons more’n anything. But there weren’t many of us happy to see the manor sold on. It should stay with Saxonhurst people. For that reason, I’d be happy to see these film-makers out of there.’
Adam looked on, feeling as if he’d been transported back in time. These villagers were so set in their ways and suspicious of outsiders – did they realise that the 21st century was here? And that Saxonhurst was unusual in its demographic; most of the neighbouring villagers were overwhelmingly occupied by commuters who’d moved out from the surrounding cities. “Local” people were few and far between in the modern Vale. Yet Saxonhurst heaved with them.
‘So shall we organise a protest?’ Julia seized on the mood of quiet hostility towards her usurpers, not wanting the meeting to dwell on its reasons for disliking her personally.
There was general assent to this. The protest was pencilled in for the day of the May Fair, in between the maypole dancing and the jam judging.
‘I’ll make some placards,’ said Julia, packing up after the meeting.
‘You won’t get them out,’ said Evie, stopping briefly on her way to the door. ‘You don’t have a leg to stand on. There ain’t a lawyer in the land who’d back you up.’
‘This isn’t about the law of the land,’ said Adam primly. ‘It’s about standing behind your principles. One day you might understand.’
She looked coldly furious for a moment, as if she wanted to hit out at him, but within seconds, the cheeky glint was back in her eye.
‘People who are so scared of sex make me laugh,’ she said, tripping off on the arm of a tall young man who’d appeared at her side. ‘Don’t you reckon, Joe?’
Adam’s face twisted into an ugly snarl.