“Hey, Tom!”
“Yeah?”
“You seen this?”
“Seen what?”
Megan appeared at the door, holding out her phone. “From the Bishopthorpe feed. It got shared by… oh, I dunno, one of those church people I follow?”
He took the phone and looked over his glasses to read it.
Today we pay tribute to a very special member of the Bishopthorpe family, Dot, who has sadly passed away. Let us pray for all who grieve the loss of a pet, and give thanks to God for creating animals to be our loving and faithful companions.
Underneath, a picture of Dot in her prime, trotting across the grass with tongue lolling. Tom felt a lump come to his throat and swallowed, handing the phone back. “I hadn’t seen. Shame.”
“Poor Ruth.”
“Yeah. Maybe I should call. Though she probably doesn’t want fuss…”
“Must be weird, having stuff like that about your life plastered over the internet.”
“It probably happened a few days ago, there’s no date. But yeah. Kind of a reality of her life.”
“So long as it doesn’t start happening to us.”
He played with the new ring, still strange on his finger, tracing the detail of the engraved cross. “I really hope not.”
“Keep the kids out of it.”
“I'll do my best. And you.”
“Thanks.” She squeezed his shoulder and turned to leave. “Go on, call Ruth. She probably needs to hear from a friend right now.”
“Yeah. I’ll do that.”
“See you later.”
He buried his head in his hands and prayed before picking up the phone. This conversation might be easy, or it might not.
“Hello? Tom?”
“Evening, Ruth. How are you?”
“Any agenda to this call or is it casual?”
“Um, casual? Well, not work.”
“A crisis? Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah, fine. No crises here, don't worry. Still getting used to the cross but…” he shrugged though she wouldn’t be able to see it. “Yeah, getting used to it. Lot of driving right now, up and down the M6. But I’m starting to get used to it.”
“Ordered your mitre yet?”
He groaned. “Not got round to it yet. I’ll ask Mars later. Or tomorrow.”
“I’ll check up on you this time tomorrow evening?”
He sighed exaggeratedly down the phone and then moved swiftly on. “How are you, anyway? I saw Bishopthorpe’s announcement, thought I'd ring since that's what friends do…”
“Oh. Yeah.” A stubborn silence.
“I’m sorry. It’s quite a loss.”
“It’s a shame, I hoped she’d make it to my retirement, but… it wasn’t to be. It’s no surprise.”
“I’m guessing it’s been a few days?”
“Yeah.”
“Since I saw you, though…”
“Yeah.”
“It wasn’t Sunday afternoon, was it?”
He had to wait for her answer, which told him it was. “She passed away while I was out, curled up in her bed, probably took advantage of the peace and quiet. I found her that evening, came home ready to walk her, when she didn’t respond to my call I knew. She might as well have been asleep, for the look of it.”
He twisted the ring, just as she always did. “I’m sorry. It’s a tough end to… that day. And that you missed it because of me.”
“I’d have been working anyway. I leave- left her like that often enough. It could have been any other day, it just happened to be that one. And, well, I could have done without any more emotions, but that’s life.”
He was quiet for a moment. Yes, it had been an emotional day. For him, of course, but it must have been for her as well. After all, she was the one who had spoken all of the words, who had led the service, who had led the act of ordination… and just from joining in with the ordination of priests, he could begin to guess what leading such a service might feel like…
…not that it would be so long before he would not have to imagine it.
“Have you buried her?”
“Tomorrow evening. With Sister Helena. We’ve found a place in the gardens here, checked that it’s allowed and it is, the staff were strongly in favour. I couldn’t really think where else, the Cambridge house isn’t mine yet and anyway, it’d be weird since she never lived there. And a long way to transport her body. So it was Bishopthorpe or a pet cemetery or cremation - and that's awful for the environment - and everyone wanted Bishopthorpe. We’re going to place a wooden cross for now, which the Sisters are making, then find her a stone later, something simple.”
“Good. Let Sister Helena lead the way, she’s wonderful. What about Sister… it’s not Adelaide any more, is it?”
“No. Joan.”
“Oh yes, I think I met her. Young?”
“She is. Two years into life profession, loving the religious life.”
“Wonderful. How’s Sister Adelaide?”
“Moved back to the motherhouse, just become Novice Mistress.”
“Ah, that’s good to hear. So, just you and Sister Helena?”
“And Sister Joan. Since she’s resident. Sister Helena asked because she always helped look after Dot when I had to leave her for work. It’s nothing much - just bury her, say a prayer, maybe light a candle…”
“And how are you doing?”
“Me?”
“Without her. Adjusting. Missing her. Filling the gap. Grieving.”
“I managed before I got her, it’s just going back to that.”
“Hard. You’re not used to it anymore.” Besides which, there was a very good reason you got Dot in the first place, he thought. “Don’t underestimate your grief.”
“She was a dog. A wonderful dog, but a dog, and we had fair warning.”
“You spent more time with her than with anyone else, the pair of you adored and depended on each other.”
“I’m fine, Tom. Sad, but fine. I’ll move on. We gave her a good few years.”
“Yes, you did.”
“It’s a shame, but I’m moving on. When I retire, we were going to go to the Lakes, have some quiet time, enjoy her last weeks or months together. Instead, I’m going to do what I couldn’t have done with her. Rome, Holy Land, maybe the Camino. Maybe Switzerland, maybe Greece, maybe even Istanbul – see the capital of our Orthodox brethren, I’ve always wanted to visit the Hagia Sophia. And then come back and get settled in Cambridge, new house, lots of decorating…”
“Sounds wonderful. And busy. So you’ve just got to get through until then, find something to fill your time in the evenings and on days off.”
“Oh, I’m sure I can find some strenuous walks. Dot wasn’t up to those towards the end.”
“And you can remember her as you do them, and give thanks for the good times together. Look after yourself - just to reiterate, I’m here for you any time. I mean, unless I’m literally celebrating the Eucharist or something, in which case I’ll call you back.”
“Is that your standard disclaimer?”
“…maybe?”
She laughed. “Thanks, Tom. It’s nice just hearing your voice, actually. Things are a bit lonely at home without… you know, without Dot. And it’s especially hard to move on with my life here when I’m about to move completely anyway. But… whatever. How’s it feel, being Right Reverend?”
“More reverend than I was, still less reverend than you? Weird. Seriously weird. A bit of that probably because of being in between, still doing odd bits of archdeaconing while being a bishop… people sort of don’t know how to treat me, even though I’m the same person? I still wear a black shirt for Nottingham stuff, but with the cross, that seems appropriate. But a purple one to Sheffield, I’ve been up there a few times, meeting people. A very strange side of the job I’ve had there so far, too, all being welcomed by one group after another, just… being sent to look pretty, or something?”
“Be inspiring and uplifting? Be a mirror on whom people can direct their focus and see God reflected? Be a pastor, a protector and a guide? Ensure that every one of your flock feels valued as a child of God and member of the Church?”
“You shine a whole new light on smiling and waving…”
“You are a walking sacrament, your entire life dedicated for the promulgation of the gospel, including the smiling and waving! People want to get a feel for you, they’re curious, they want in some cases to know who they’re working with, in others be able to go away and tell their friends about their new diocesan bishop. They’re deciding whether they like you or not.”
“Hopefully that they do…”
“Live according to the example of Christ and if they don’t, it’s because you shine a light on a part of them they don’t want to acknowledge.”
“And if they don’t like me because I’m just really bad at being a nice person?”
“Oh, you’re likeable enough, don’t worry. And at the end of the day, there is only one whose expectations you should be worrying about living up to.”
“You?”
“Behave…”
He rolled his eyes, though she couldn’t see him. “Thanks. You said you'd mentor me as I get going on it?”
“With pleasure. By mentor you mean person you can rant at?”
“I mean… not entirely.”
“I’m joking, of course. You have me and I’m sure the entirety of the college of bishops ready to support you, and I am expecting a lot of phone calls from you in your first few months. Oh, you’re not going to be at Synod, are you?”
“I’m not. First time in… twelve years? Plus?”
“Losing your streak!”
“Well this is your actual last, ever…”
There was silence on the other end, making him regret saying it, but he couldn't take it back.
“I suppose it is,” Ruth said in the end. “And I suppose by the time you take your seat in the House of Bishops, I will have gone.”
“It’s… when? September?”
“And I leave at the start of the month. It wasn’t deliberate, honest!”
“Sure…” He played with a piece of paper. “Time’s going to fly.”
“Don’t remind me…” She sighed audibly. “It’s weird, to think talks are already happening to choose my successor. I mean, that’s why I announced it well in advance, to minimise the gap, but… still. Epiphany enthronement, maybe… and that’ll be weird. I’ve come to feel quite at home in the Minster.”
“You’ll get used to it quickly enough.”
“I suppose so. You know, this is the longest I’ve been in any one job…”
“Because it’s been perfect for you. But there are bright things in the future too, don’t forget that.”
“Students. So many students.”
“You’re looking forward to it, admit it…”
“You know I went there to visit and ended up yelling at a bunch of ordinands?”
He snorted. “Of course you did. Poor things.”
“It was deserved.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
She sighed. “I don’t want to be the one everyone’s scared of.”
“You won’t be.” He paused. “Okay, maybe you will, but not in a bad way. They’ll admire you, they’ll want your approval. You’ll do so much good.”
“It’s a lot of responsibility. All those young people, all those future leaders.”
“You’re the flipping Archbishop of York and you’re worrying about responsibility?”
That made her laugh. “I suppose. I guess it’ll be fun. I’m going to do some lecturing too, that’ll be great – finally, a chance to do some proper academia! I might write another book or two, now I’ll have the chance. Proper theology with cross-referencing and citations, that’ll be fun.”
“You have a strange idea of fun.”
“Oh, I know. But it’s satisfying, right, doing things properly?”
“You’re talking to an archdeacon…”
“Bishop. But yes. You must kind of get it.”
“I think we’re quite different in many ways, but yes.”
“You sound like you’re getting on well, by the way.”
“By which you mean..?”
“Just… well, you know when I last saw you. You seem calmer.”
“Oh yeah. I guess. Well, it’s happened, it’s a bit late for freaking out. I can have another round in a couple of weeks?”
“Been to see the King yet?”
“No, two weeks.”
“How are the kids? How are they feeling about the move?”
“It’s just a fact of life for them now. That’s how we’ve presented it, that’s how they’ve accepted it. Mars is being relentlessly positive. Mika’s putting a brave face on it, mostly. Not happy to be leaving her friends, at school or Brownies or church or anywhere. Megan’ll need to find a good church to take them, one where kids can take part; Mika’ll be pretty grumpy if she ends up missing out on the chance to acolyte, when she’s just been allowed to start here. Obviously, that’s a big deal for her.”
“Of course it is. Well, give her a few years and you’ll be able to put her in the cathedral choir, if she’s interested. And get her involved, maybe even in the big services. Though they’re going to look for a normal parish?”
“Definitely.”
“Wise. Although cathedrals can be very like parishes, on Sunday mornings. Complete with children’s ministry, you know, Messy Cathedral and all that.”
“Oh, she’s not into that kind of thing. At least, she gets very stuck in, but complaining right through about how children shouldn’t be treated differently from adults, all that. And pointing out every issue with, you know, oversimplifications and stuff. Terrifies the teachers, asking them questions they haven’t a hope of answering. I blame her godmother.”
Ruth snorted. “Yeah, sure. Well, it’s a fair enough point. No reason for her to go out if she’d rather stay in.”
“Yeah, we let her choose. More and more she’s staying with us.”
“Which is very positive for her future in the Church.”
“It’s good for her. She’s mature, especially for her age.”
“Yes, I’ve always thought that. Though she’s got better at being a child, well done for that.”
“Being in a stable environment. It makes so much difference. And not being afraid, not having to be grown up.” He gazed into space for a moment. “Somebody meeting her now, they wouldn’t have any idea. They wouldn’t guess. And yet if we hadn’t been there…”
“And people say miracles don’t happen.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “I hate moving her. Upsetting that stability. What if it undoes all her progress? All those years of building confidence? Takes away her safety net?”
“She moved house before, after you got married. This is a bigger change, but she’s older. She’ll be okay.”
“Moving still sucks, however old you are.”
“But it’s also exciting.”
“That’s what we’re trying to stick to.”
“As am I.”
Tom stood and wandered over to his shelf, to pick up a photo in a frame. The day Ruth had first taken her seat in York Minster, a day that his memory slowly rebuilt in his mind. Her fear, her joy, her steel and her bliss, as she rose to take the job she was made for. Would he feel something like that, in Sheffield in just a few weeks?
“Sad to be moving on?” he asked, quietly.
There was a moment's pause before she answered. “I am, rather. You know how many years I’ve been talking about it, I’m still sad though and it’s not for a couple of months. Moving into the unknown. Losing everything I love-“
“Not everything.”
“I mean, I’ve even lost Dot…”
“I know, and it’s hard. But you still have me, and everyone else. You’ll still have a voice and the opportunity to guide, you'll still celebrate the Eucharist. You’ll still be a priest and a bishop.”
“I know. I shouldn’t be so sad, but I am.”
“Nothing wrong with being sad, especially for good reason. Well done for making the step anyway.”
“It’s what I said I would do. Though if I’d known then, I might not have done!”
“It’d be hard now or in five years. No use working yourself to death, it’s a good time to step back really, even if it doesn't feel like it. And so perfect, to get this thing in Cambridge! That’ll fill a gap.”
“I said I wanted a break but I kind of wish I was starting in October. A year’s a long time, especially on my own.”
“It won’t feel it. Particularly not with all you have planned.”
“But there’s so much good I could be doing.”
He twisted his ring. “Christian living isn’t all about doing good.”
“I suppose not.” She was silent for a while. “I suppose it’ll be useful.”
“And it’ll make you a much better tutor, when you come back.”
“It's kind of remarkable, that I can take a year out while so many people can’t even afford to live while working.”
“Yeah. Think of it as all of the evenings and weekends you’ve worked through, rammed together? That must add up to a year.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “Sorry to be so down.”
He laughed. “Come on, Ruth. Of all the things to apologise for…”
“Well, it’s not exactly uplifting for you.”
“But it’s human, and there’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re human. However much you try to pretend you’re not!” And then he was well and truly serious again. “There is nothing wrong with sorrow, or grief. You told me that. Emotions are always valid, and they matter.”
“They don’t need to be shared with everyone, though. Especially when you have so much to deal with yourself right now.”
“Maybe. But in this case I asked. I literally rang you up to find out, so thank you for sharing with me. For trusting me enough.”
“Isla’s been trying to check up on me and kind of… encourage me to admit I’m upset, and stuff. To look after me. I’ve been rather defensive with her.”
“And how’s she taken that?”
“She’s backed down. Or at least, become somewhat more subtle.”
“I like her. I was thinking that on Sunday - in a brief gap in being terrified.”
“She’s great. A bit too pushy this time, but she realised. And did help a lot too. Like she offered to tell the staff, which I was dreading. It’s lovely, how much they care.”
“She was a very good dog.”
“She was. So, you’re about ready for Sheffield? First confirmation service in the diary?”
He screwed his eyes up. “Yes…”
“It’s wonderful. You’re a successor to the apostles themselves.”
“Help?”
“Just make sure you think about what you’ll say to the candidates before the service. And don’t forget the certificates in the rush of emotion afterwards. Planned your sermon?”
“Still working on the one for my installation…”
“Ah, yes. I look forward to that.” A brief pause. “I should let you get on. Go and order your mitre and cope. Or I’ll do it for you, as I warned you before. You’re a fool to leave it this late, they take time to make up and you’re cutting it tight.”
He groaned loudly. “Yes, your Grace.”
“Thanks for calling. I didn’t realise how much I needed a friendly voice.”
“It’s been lovely to talk. Properly, without the whole ordination thing looming overhead. Look after yourself and call me whenever.”
“I will, thanks. And the same message to you. Now go make an appointment to design your gear, it’ll be embarrassing if you don’t.”
“I guess. See you.”
He put down the phone and went to the bottom of the stairs to call up. “Mars!”
Thumping like a young carthorse, and then Mars’ head appeared over the bannister. “Yeah?”
“I need you to help me design my mitre and cope. You’ve got taste.”
“Just ‘cause I’m gay doesn’t mean I know fashion…”
“I don’t think this could ever be described as fashion - not since the sixteenth century, at the latest! Just come and give me your opinion and stop me freaking out. It’s just deciding which fabrics go well together really.”
“Um, I can look over your shoulder?”
“Come on then. Let’s go figure out how this whole thing works, you can give me moral support. It’s too much money to be doing any of it on my own…”
“Um, help?”
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