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It was nearly the end of September. Natalie had continued to see Stephanie, who had also introduced her to a friend who helped her with her wardrobe and makeup.
"It's up to you," said Stephanie, "how much makeup you use, but some men don't like it much ... just as a word to the wise, Charlie's one of them"
Natalie was astonished at what she saw in the mirror these days; the combination of her sessions with Stephanie and learning how to make the most of her personal assets meant she was beginning to accept herself.
Alison, of course, was much less available to Charles. Their changed relationship had continued but sheer practicality meant they met mainly at the weekend, when the reduction of events meant they were pushed back on their own resources; she was more and more aware of the lack of common interests, and consequently more accepting of the potential end of an otherwise enjoyable association. The physical relationship was rewarding for both of them, but, again, both were aware that there was more to a lasting relationship than sex.
We join Natalie in church at the end of the service; it was the Anglo-Catholic St. Matthew's Calver Street in Sheffield City Centre, the priest in the embroidered green vestments of the season pronouncing the blessing...
"May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ, and the blessing of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit be with you, and all who are near and dear to you, now and always."
He followed the choir as they processed behind the Crucifer, and disappeared into the vestry. Most of the congregation, after kneeling for a few moments, disappeared to find refreshments, but Natalie stayed in her pew, looking up at the figure of Christ on the cross. The priest emerged from the vestry in his black cassock, on his way for his cup of coffee, but stopped by Natalie.
"Can I help you, daughter?"
She looked up at him, "you practice prayer and anointing for healing, don't you?"
"We do indeed, here."
"Would you pray for me?"
"Certainly, but will you excuse me for a moment while I fetch some things?"
She nodded and he made his way back to the vestry, emerging wearing a scarlet stole that made a double slash of colour against his cassock, and with a small pot in his hand.
"Was there something in particular?" he asked,
"I've been receiving counselling for, well, a problem I've had, and a few weeks ago my therapist prayed for me; it was something of a breakthrough. This morning, during the service, I felt I should ask you to pray for me, that it would somehow complete the healing."
The priest stood beside her as she sat in the pew, laid a hand on her shoulder, and began to pray. Natalie could not understand the words; she was sure it wasn't Latin, and she didn't think it was any modern European language, but the sounds were mellifluous, rhythmic and calming. As he continued, she felt a sensation of warmth spreading throughout her body; she began to feel as though she was enfolded in loving arms. The words stopped, and he began to speak in English.
"My child, know that you are loved. Know now, that I loved you from the moment you were conceived, as you were born, and as you wept, sitting on the rocking-horse in your nursery,"
She gasped in shock, "How..."
But the voice continued, "I have loved you every moment of your existence, though you hardly knew me, and I watched as you turned away in fear from the man who loves you. I have never left you, and I never will. Be freed now, completely, from the bondage of unkind words, for you are my daughter and your freedom was bought with blood."
Tears poured down her face as she turned to the priest.
"How did you know?"
"Know? I knew nothing, I just prayed, and God gave me words to say."
"At the beginning, what language was that? It sounded so beautiful."
"Again, I don't know. It was words from God. 'For we know not how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words'. But there's one more thing." He took the little pot he'd placed on the bookshelf at the front of the pew, opened it and used his thumb to smear a little oil from the pot to form a cross on her forehead. "I anoint you with oil, in accordance with the words of the Bible, as a symbol of your healing, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit."
"Thank you, so much. When Stephanie prayed, I remembered overhearing my Grandmother saying I was ugly, and I wept and ran and sat and rocked on my rocking horse; it was my third birthday. Just recently, I met a lovely man who wanted to know me better, and I ran away from him because I was afraid. You could not have known those things."
"As I said, I did not know; I just spoke as I was led, as any follower of Jesus can be led. So let this experience reassure you, that you are lovely, and loveable, and loved, and once and for all, you are free, daughter."
"Thank you, Father, again."
"Go in peace, daughter, and trust in God to lead you safely ... perhaps you'd like to join my flock and I for a cup of coffee before you go, though?"
"Do you know, I think I will ... when I've mopped up these tears."
"That's fine, but don't fear, or be ashamed of tears; they wash the soul clean of hurt."
It was quite late in the afternoon by the time she got home. She'd walked all the way from the centre of town and not hurried, having a great deal to think through. She prepared and ate a meal, then thought perhaps she'd check her email in-box; she switched on the computer and waited for it to boot up. Thinking a glass of wine would be nice she went to fetch one while the computer was loading everything to use. She got back to it, just in time to see the screen go blank ... and show the start-up scripts again, and again. It rebooted three times in quick succession as she watched. Actually, to be strictly accurate, it was slow succession as the machine was getting as far as the desktop before restarting...
The next time the screen went blank, she pulled the plug out. What to do? Who could she turn to that knew about computers? Well, of course the obvious person was Charles ... but was she ready? Did she dare go to see him? He'd said he would be her friend...
"Go in peace and trust God to lead you." The words came back to her with a startling clarity. She grabbed a fleece and pulled it on as she left the house.
Outside Charles' home, she took several deep breaths before ringing the bell. The door was answered promptly ... by Alison Spencer.
"Oh, hello, er, is Charles in?"
"Oh, yes! Er, Natalie, isn't it? Come in," and turning called, "Charlie! Natalie here to see you!" Turning back, she smiled slightly and commented, "I think he'll be glad to see you."
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