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ISSUE 3: THE SUMMER FETE EDITION
"Tears in the Tea Tent"

More Tea Vicar
by Kate Maple

 
 

“More tea vicar?” enquired Veronica, straining to hold up a large metal teapot with over stewed tea inside. She squinted in the afternoon sunshine, her thick glasses magnifying the slanted rays as they filtered into the canvas tent, already stuffy with stale air. She smiled her broadest smile at him, showing off wonky, lipstick stained teeth. The vicar, impeccably dressed in cream linen and a new panama hat, looked at her teeth and shuddered. Everything about her repulsed him, from her lank hair and badly knitted cardigans to the way she fawned over him and followed him about, walking silently behind him and kowtowing whenever he looked at her. Every parish had a village oddity, and Veronica was it. He declined the offer of tea and purveyed the view beyond the tent with satisfaction. He did enjoy the annual church fete, it embodied the very essence of english country village life. Lady Burleigh had kindly let them use her garden grounds again to set up the usual array of tents and stalls. Mrs Bramley was selling jams and chutneys this year whilst Mrs Pentwhistle, on the cake stall, was selling strawberry meringues hand over the fist. Ted Baker was doing well with his prize vegetables and Mrs Plumley was running the tombola and the pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey stall together, looking hot and harassed. The whole village was here and children ran from stall to stall, faces smeared with jam and cream, squealing with delight at the pony rides and slides. Later on there would be the result of the raffle and Revd Farley would enjoy taking centre stage to announce the winners. He scanned the crowd for his wife and daughter and saw them at the cake stall and tutted to himself. Felicity, his wife, was consuming a large slice of Victoria sponge, stuffing it hastily into her mouth, jam oozing from the sides. She really needed to lose weight, it was not becoming of a vicar’s wife to bulge out of her clothes like she did, as he had told her many times. Beside Felicity stood his only daughter Emily, aloof, twiddling her long brown hair and staring out of the tent with a distant look on her face. She was a disappointment to him. Despite his best efforts, paying for her to go to a private school, for violin and piano lessons and everyone knows that a vicar’s wages are not the best; she had not turned out as he had wanted her too. She had become sullen and withdrawn and started to do badly at school, something he would not tolerate at all and he often lost his temper with her about it. She had even pierced her ears. He berated Felicity for her lack of backbone with the child, but she usually retreated to the kitchen in search of more cake to consume. Yesterday he had been shocked to have been informed by the headmaster of the school, that his daughter, his daughter, had been playing truant, for hours at a time apparently. He was seething with rage but had decided to do nothing about it before the fete, but rather to have it out with her tonight after supper. Still, as least she was smartly dressed today, in a tweed skirt, cotton blouse and a pretty hair band that made her look younger than her seventeen years.

Suddenly there was an unusual noise coming from the edge of the fete, a deep rumbling noise that grew steadily louder and louder. Everyone stopped and looked to see what it was. A cloud of dust swirled up from the sweeping driveway and momentarily hid the source of the noise. Then the dust cleared and six giant motorbikes, gleaming with black and chrome approached the crowd. Six leather clad bikers sat astride them, gloved hands gripping the sweeping, wide handlebars, their faces hidden by black, gleaming helmets. They drove under the ivy coated archway to the garden, in between the purple flowering rhododendron bushes and up to the tea tent, parting the crowd as they went. The engines chugged to a halt; powerful petrol fumes escaped into the air and shimmered around them in a haze of heat. The lead biker took off his helmet to reveal a handsomely rugged face, stubbly and oil smeared, long dirty blonde hair scraped into a casual ponytail. His eyes scanned the tea tent and rested on the panama topped vicar whose mouth was agape with astonishment and rage. “How dare you come in here like this!” he spluttered “Please leave at once”. Expressionless, the lead biker merely said “Are you the Reverend Farley?” “Yes, I am” began the vicar, “and I want you to leave the premises right now. You have no right to bring those filthy machines……” The biker cut across him by saying “I want to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage”. A gasp rippled across the crowd that had squashed into the tea tent to see what was happening. The vicar blanched and swallowed hastily “You may not ask me anything of the sort. Just who do you think you are!” He began to search around for his daughter “Emily? Emily! Come in here this instant! What is the meaning of this outrage?” Emily appeared at the edge of the tent and looked calmly at her father. She walked up the lead biker and kissed him passionately and everyone gasped again. Then she turned towards her father, pulled off her alice band and threw it on the ground in front of him. He looked at her with bewilderment and fear. She smiled. “So long, Daddy” she said and turned her back to him, climbing onto the huge motorbike and wrapping her arms around her boyfriend’s cracked leather jacket. The engine started with a loud roar and smoke filled the tiny tent, choking its inhabitants. The six bikes turned and drove away, clouds of dust flying in the air, lingering in the air after their departure. The vicar stood stock still, his cream linen jacket creased and crumpled. Everyone was silent. Then, someone shuffled forward towards him. Thick glasses and a metal teapot glinted in the sunshine and a voice behind him said, “More tea vicar?”