Hunsford Tales. In Mysterious Ways...

The most innocent of acts can have some rather unusual effects when mistakes occur by taking things at face value. Mr Collins will thus learn so.

Chapter One.

“I shall use the story of the Ark for my sermon this week dear. Heavy rain is predicted soon and, with a little luck I may just get a little thunder and lightning for effect. How very fortunate that would be!”
Mr Collins chuckled loudly and Charlotte also smiled at the thought of the parishioners peering fearfully skywards as the thunder rumbled and forked lightning lit up the chapel interior. Lady Catherine would no doubt command it to stop, she thought gleefully, mentally picturing the scene. If Moses could part the Red Sea, surely a mere storm would be child’s play to her Ladyship!
“A pity Lady Catherine keeps the roof in such good repair dear, or you could have a very realistic atmosphere indeed, she said, and both smiled….

It all began as an innocent act so typical of youth. Mrs King, one of the lady volunteers who helped out with church cleaning, brass polishing, candle renewing, and setting out of hymn books for Sunday service, was a lady of somewhat sharp temper. Being a spinster of the parish of Hunsford she also taught geography in the church school one day each week, but was not the most forgiving person where the young were found to be in error. For that very fact they tended to tread rather softly when she was around. On Saturday morning, young Thomas Dawkins and two of his friends had, quite by chance, found a bottle of a colourless liquid on a table outside the Bell and Whistle Inn as they passed by. Thinking it was water they felt no twinges of wrong-doing in removing it to take fishing with them. It was but a bottle of water after all….

“Urghhhh…what is it, it’s awful!” Thomas Dawkins held the bottle at arms length and spat out the mouthful of the liquid he had just tasted. He sniffed at the contents and grimaced horribly. “It’s not water, that’s for sure, he informed his companions, I think it’s some sort of bitter wine that has gone sour!”
Jem Fisher, a year older and thus more world wise, sniffed deeply at the bottle, shook his head, then nodded knowingly.
“Not wine, it’s strong gin. I know because my father has some in a decanter in the kitchen!”
The three youngsters were passing through the churchyard on their way to the stream that ran through the copse beside Mr Collins’s parsonage house. Edward Grimes, the youngest of the trio suddenly pointed up the lane and hissed:
“Look out, Mrs King’s coming. If she catches us with drink, we’re for it. No use telling her we found it, she won’t believe us anyway. She’ll think it is ours”
The other two made ready to run and Thomas looked worriedly at the bottle then dashed into the church and put it on one of the pews. All three of them sidled around the edge of the building and waited until the lady had gone inside. They then scuttled quietly away with more than a little relief. Mrs King duly discovered the bottle and, assuming it was a water bottle and Mr Collins had left it there, took it and placed it on the pulpit shelf beside a drinking glass already there. The dear man would need his water when preaching…..

Chapter Two.

Sunday morning arrived, and Mr Collins ascended the steps to his pulpit having almost glided down the church aisle on a rosy cloud of self -righteousness and goodwill. This was his world, his vocation. Here, he was the man in charge. He turned and looked with satisfaction at the almost full seats in his domain. Duly nodding smilingly in the direction of Lady Catherine and her daughter Anne, he cleared his throat and clasped his hands in saintly pose. The threat of summer rain had made the atmosphere heavy and he noted thankfully the bottle and glass in position on the shelf beside his Bible stand. He coughed again and began:
“Dear Bretheren. Judging by the signs, there may well be a rainstorm later. Once, many years ago, there was a rainstorm like the earth had never seen. It was told to us in Genesis, chapters six to nine, how the Lord commanded Noah to build a great Ark….a massive Ark indeed.!”
Mr Collins paused for effect and took the cork from the bottle. He kept his facial expression serious as he poured liquid into the glass and took a large mouthful. He almost spat out the fiery contents in total surprise, but was in such an exposed position that he gulped and swallowed raising a hand quickly across his mouth. His eyes watered and the liquid burned fiercely. He coughed into his hand and breathed deeply.
“ The Lord told Noah the dimension he wanted the Ark to be and Noah set to and builded it. He made it out of, er, wood and it was four hundred and fifty feet long and fifteen, er fifty feet wide and thirty high and..” His mouth was burning ..”and it had closets, that is compartments…and”
Mr Collins throat was afire. There was nothing for it, he had to drink something. He took another drink from his glass and it seemed suddenly not quite as fierce as before. He smiled down at Mrs King in the front row and coughed again, running a finger around inside his collar. Lady Catherine’s expression was unreadable, mainly because he couldn’t see her too clearly for some reason. Did he actually need real spectacles and not the plain glass ones he wore for mere effect? A sudden rumble of distant thunder broke the silence. Despite the chapel normally being cool, the air was becoming oppressively warm. He took another sip of the glass and wiped the back of his hand across his brow. Suddenly, it was hard to concentrate. Must hurry, the rains were coming....
“It had no shelves because it wasn’t a house and nobody was coming to visit. When it was finished it was thirty elephants feet high and fifty giraffes wide and all the family went along too because it was really going to rain and everybody who wasn’t in the Ark was going to drown. And….I need a drink..I feel!.” His voice was almost a croak as he spoke. There was a small corner seat in the pulpit and Mr Collins sank into it as a sudden loud crash of thunder caused everyone to start in their seats and a loud babble of comment broke the silence. Charlotte, aghast at what she had heard and watching her husband with a wide-eyed expression saw him take another sip from his glass. Suddenly he slid off the small seat with a bump she distinctly heard from her own seat, and disappeared from view. “And the rain began to fall”.. . His voice was heard, then drowned out by another almighty crash of thunder and Charlotte left her seat and went to the foot of the pulpit steps. Mr Collins was seated on the floor peering owlishly at her and she climbed in and helped him rise. As she did so she heard Lady Catherine say in a loud voice:
“I think everyone should go home. Mr Collins is obviously ill and I fear a bad storm is about to arrive on us. We shall cancel today’s service and the Lord will understand. Someone help Mr Collins home please”
Charlotte felt a surge of gratitude as her Ladyship’s prompt action and shook her head in bewilderment as she gazed at her husband. He was pointing at the bottle and she picked it up and also the glass. Her eyes widened as she looked around quickly then raised the bottle and sniffed it. Dawkins suddenly appeared beside her and pulled Mr Collins to his feet. Mr Collins frowned and mumbled, “Did you hear that thunder? It’s about to start. Is the Ark ready? Have we got any parrots?
“Come on sir, let’s get you home. You look pretty worse for wear”…..

“It’s a complete mystery. Mrs King swears she put a bottle of water up there that was already in the church and yet it turned out to be gin”.
Mr Collins, still suffering a headache at suppertime after a lengthy nap shook his head in bewildered fashion. Charlotte, who knew he had been completely sober when leaving the house for church, for once had no answer to give and went off to get him some real water.. She could explain his condition away to her Ladyship due to heat and maybe some bad apples and wasn’t particularly worried on that score. Water into wine she knew of, but water into gin? The Lord did indeed sometimes work in mysterious ways.

As Mr Dawkins discussed the incident with his wife they were also very puzzled. Mr Collins was not a drinking man and the whole issue was a mystery. Young Thomas suddenly wished it would stop raining so that he could find a reason to escape the room unnoticed.

End…..