The Church of St. Athenasius
The interior of the church is architecturally stark. The high ceilings rise in graceful, unelaborate arches to high windows of primitive stained glass. Above the entrance of the church shines the Rose Window, miraculously undamaged through the centuries. The altar sits at the other end of the vaguely cross-shaped interior, and a Victorian organ and choir stalls, plainly comparatively recent additions, sit in the left arm. Daylight streams in through the many windows about you. A sense of calm pervades the church.
Contents:
Prudence
Wooden Altar
Obvious exits:
Alcove Door  Church Steps

Vicar Warrenton steps into the church, humming a merry melody the King's Roistabout Trombone Band used play while entertaining the troops on the front. In the West End, specifically. Then he sees Miss Buttock, and stops.

Prudence's eyes are closed and she is praying fervently, her lips moving sadly over heartfelt words. Just then, a shaft of sunshine falls upon her, beatifically illuminating her face and frame.

One delicate tear upon Prudence's face is silver-limned in the light.

Vicar Warrenton steps forward cautiously. "Er....Miss Buttock...er...ah...a handkerchief?"

Prudence doesn't hear any voices, so intent is she on worship and prayer.

Vicar Warrenton takes a few steps forward more. "Ah...Trudy?"

Finally finishing her prayer, Prudence slowly opens her hazel eyes. And sees James.

[Prudence]
Willowy, reticent and painfully shy, Prudence Buttock blinks at you nervously from behind the enormous wire-thin spectacles that cover her wide hazel-green eyes--and, indeed, much of her pale face--effectively shielding her from the notice of others. Prudence's thick brown hair, tightly pulled back into a reserved bun, creates a properly austere effect in spite of the occasional lock which half-heartedly strays from its hold. She blends into her surroundings, wherever she goes, a faint shadow on a cloudy day, clad in a simple dress of dove-grey wool that ends just above her stockinged ankles.
Carrying:
Ivory Brooch

[Ivory Brooch]
A small ivory brooch delicately carved to resemble a sparrow, given to Trudy Buttock by the vicar.

Vicar Warrenton notices that Prudence is wearing the ivory brooch he gave her for Christmas that was his dear departed mother's.

Prudence notices that James is looking so very handsome and sensitive and clever.

Vicar Warrenton sighs, knowing that he will never have this lovely vision, this Jazz Age Madonna, this Buttock.

Prudence demurely lowers her gaze, the sun now reflecting blindingly off her spectacles.

Vicar Warrenton blinks, his eyes watering. It looks almost as if he, too, is weeping.

Prudence rises uncertainly from the wooden bench.

Vicar Warrenton looks at the girl's fine, proud, unassuming posture, and starts forward. "Er...."

Vicar Warrenton clears his throat.

Prudence freezes.

Vicar Warrenton's voice drops to a choked whisper. "Miss Buttock...Trudy...er...I must ask you...something."

Vicar Warrenton moves forward once more, to close the space between them. "Will you...will you...er...will you....ever forgive me for placing my own importunate lips upon your own?"

Prudence takes a step forward, out of the golden beam of sunshine. She gazes at the vicar with tremulous eyes behind sorrow-steamed spectacles.

Vicar Warrenton stutters. "P-p-Please?"

Prudence dares a shy nod.

Vicar Warrenton's knees almost give out from under him. "Oh golly. You will?"

Prudence's cheeks burn with crimson. "Y-Yes," she affirms, bashfully regarding the tips of her shoes peeping out from beneath her dress's modest hem.

Colonel Brown enters the church, accompanied by a slight breeze from the outdoors as the doors shut behind him.

Vicar Warrenton holds out his hands. "Then tell me...er...tell me you will marr....er...Colonel Brown!"

Vicar Warrenton jumps back from the lovely Miss Buttock.

Colonel Brown looks startled, his bushy eyebrows raising in surprise. "Er, uh, Vicar Warrenton, I was just stopping by the church for a little devotion...." The old man coughs and looks at Prudence. "I'm interrupting something."

Prudence wilts guiltily beneath the old man's regard.

Vicar Warrenton looks a bit startled at the word 'devotion.' "Er...that's what a church is for, of course, old bean. Hah-hah-hah, what?"

Colonel Brown reddens slightly and smiles. "Er, pardon me, I don't want to interrupt." The old man turns quickly and moves for the door.

Vicar Warrenton says "Oh, no...no..er...no interruption."

Vicar Warrenton coughs violently.

Colonel Brown hobbles back out the door, his head hanging in embarassment.

Colonel Brown leaves the church for the church yard.

Vicar Warrenton looks after the old man. "Crikey. For a moment I thought he was going to hear me ask you for your hand in marriage."

Vicar Warrenton looks stricken and slaps a hand over his mouth. His eyes bulge wide.

Prudence turns pale, then reddens, then turns pale again.

Vicar Warrenton makes a choking noisee.

"You d-did not m-mean ... ?" murmurs Prudence, her eyes wide in shock.

Vicar Warrenton looks as if he'd like to sink into the floor. "I meant it with every...er...fibre of my heart, Miss Buttock, but if...once again, I see I have overstepped...er..dash it all."

Vicar Warrenton's shoulders sink.

"Yes," whispers Prudence, very, very, very shyly, and quickly, before the vicar can slink away like last time. "Yes, I will m-marry you."

Vicar Warrenton's shoulders sink lower. "I rather thought you'd say no like that. Most kind of you to consider it, Miss Buttock."

Prudence's face falls. "B-But ... I said y-yes, V-Vicar."

Vicar Warrenton looks up to the Rose Window, the perfection of which could never aspire to that which is Miss Trudy Buttock. "I suppose you have some other fellow who can provide more to you than a vicar's living in a provincial village."

Prudence begins to look quite confused.

Vicar Warrenton furrows his brow. "Hold on. Did you say yes?"

Prudence nods hesitantly.

Vicar Warrenton waves his hands about. "Er...to...you know. The marriage thing?"

Prudence blushes furiously. She nods.

Vicar Warrenton says "But dash it all, you didn't even hear my reasons why!"

Vicar Warrenton begins to count off on his fingers. "Firstly, er...I won't beat you. B. Ah...the vicarage isn't a bad place. The bath is quite jolly. Three. Er, I thought our little...er...you know. Babies. Adorable, what? Four. Er...I'm awfully fond of you, you know. More than toffee."

Prudence's eyes fill with sudden tears, clearly affected by the toffee comment.

Vicar Warrenton gets down upon a knee. "Trudy...you're roses, and the first day of spring, and the first day of holidays, and Christmas Eve, and a jolly treacle pudding, and the automobile, and other girls...well, try as they might, they can't aspire to be as ripping a girl as you."

Prudence's hands rise to cover her blushing cheeks.

Vicar Warrenton coughs. "Er, that's all."

Prudence repeats to her beau, happiness colouring her shy voice. "Y-Yes, I will m-marry you."

Vicar Warrenton stands up. "Er...I don't have a ring for you."

Vicar Warrenton colours.

"Oh, th-that's all right," assures Prudence, still a little dazed.

Vicar Warrenton impulsively grabs Trudy's hands. "Oh Trudy. You have made this fellow the happiest man upon...er...earth."

Prudence's  face brightens with timid joy.

Vicar Warrenton leans forward, and plants a kiss upon Trudy's lips. Not a timid kiss. A real whopperoo of a man's kiss, closely copied from that Rudolfo Di Vinci gave Moire Pickleigh in 'Oranges of Gomorrah', and practiced upon his own pillow in anticipation of this happy moment.

Prudence melts.

Vicar Warrenton stands back and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. "Er, I hope that wasn't inappropriate."

Prudence half-falls,  half-seats herself upon the edge of a bench. "N-N-No."

Vicar Warrenton looks positively cheery. He licks his lips. "I rather liked it, myself."

Prudence laughs nervously.

Vicar Warrenton coughs into his hand. "Er...ah...one thing...Miss Buttock....?"

Prudence peeps shyly up at the vicar in silent query.

Vicar Warrenton appears to be searching for words, as if they were floating about his head. "Your...ah...sister? I expect you'll want to...er...tell her?"

Prudence looks suddenly scared. "M-Must we?"

Vicar Warrenton gulps audibly and nods. "Yes...er..yes, you must."

Prudence turns very pale. "Can we n-not do it t-together?'

Vicar Warrenton says "Er...as her sister...I think you...."

Prudence's eyes entreat.

Vicar Warrenton nods. "You can do it...er...dear."

Prudence pleads. "W-with you?"

Vicar Warrenton blinks several times. "Er...I'm afraid I have an appointment. That day."

At the prospect of confronting her sister, Prudence bursts into nervous tears. "B-but I c-can't tell her ... "

Vicar Warrenton says "Perhaps I could accompany you...er..then...."

Prudence sniffles.

Vicar Warrenton says "...and stand outside the parlour?"

Prudence begins to cry again.

Vicar Warrenton looks about, hoping no one has noticed. "Dash it all. I'll go with you, then, Trudy, and we'll break the news to the old bat...er...her together."

Prudence sobs with relief. "Th-thank you. She's so f-frightening."

Vicar Warrenton nods in rabid agreement.

You say "Er, just don't tell her about that...er..kiss. Eh? Word to the wise?"

Prudence dries her tears, blushing with the recollection of the kiss. "I w-won't."

Vicar Warrenton dares to take you into his arms again. "We'll be man and wife soon, dear...er..Trudy."

Vicar Warrenton moves in for another taste of Trudy's rosebud-like lips.

Prudence shyly obliges.

Honoria Buttock enters the church, accompanied by a slight breeze from the outdoors as the doors shut behind her.

Vicar Warrenton jumps at the sound of the door. He is standing close...much too close...to Miss Buttock. "Er...I think that speck is gone from...er..your eye now. Miss Buttock."

Vicar Warrenton forcibly moves Miss Buttock in front of him at the sight of her elder sister.

Honoria Buttock strides forcefully in, wash-bucket slung over one arm. She spies Prudence, and forces a grim smile, "Ah, sister. I see you have taken heed to my words and are going to assist in the weekly brass polishing. We want the Vicar's brass balls to gleam on Sunday, do we not?"

Honoria Buttock is brought up short by the sight of the Vicar with Prudence,"Ah. Here to help? Capital! Idle hands are the devil's playground, are they not?"

Prudence turns very pale.

Vicar Warrenton nudges Miss Buttock. "Er...here's your...our chance."

Honoria Buttock hands Prudence a polishing cloth, and the Vicar a stiff brush, "Now Prudence, you should start with the largest of the Vicar's balls. And Vicar, if you would get down on your knees, and begin. . .chance to what?"

Prudence begins to hyperventilate, quietly.

Vicar Warrenton pokes Miss Buttock. "Er....Trudy has something to...ah...say."

Honoria Buttock says "Trudy whom?"

Vicar Warrenton pushes Miss Buttock forward. "Go on."

Prudence balks. "N-N-No."

Honoria Buttock's lips form a very tight moue, "If you have something to say Prudence, you can do it with your hands on the Vicar's balls just as easilyas you can with your hands empty."

Honoria Buttock puts her shoulder into polishing an invisible speck from the altar railing.

Prudence blushes furiously. "Oh, I ... I ... "

Vicar Warrenton moves Miss Buttock to the side. "Er...I say. You shouldn't talk to your younger sister like that."

Prudence's eyes soften adoringly at the Vicar.

Honoria Buttock turns what she hopes is a beatific countenance onto the Vicar, "We all must do our part in the Lord's work. And I have decided that my part shall be the brasswork, and Prudence's shall be your balls. They are smooth, and rather underdeveloped, as brasswork goes, and I believe that she can work her way up, to some of the more intricate bas relief once she has fully grasped the import of doing a thorough job"

Vicar Warrenton puffs out his chest. "She's to be my wife, you know. Soon she'll be determining who polishes the vicar's balls on her own."

Vicar Warrenton beams fondly at his dear. "She'll be Mrs Vicar."

Prudence returns the Vicar's fond gaze, not daring to look at her sister just yet.

Honoria Buttock checks her hairdo in the gleaming brasswork, "What's that? Oh, don't be foolish. She hasn't the mettle to determine the custodial work of the parish. . . . MISSUS Vicar? And who shall be Mister Vicar? I didn't know there were any Vicars in the parish." She looks around frantically. "And you condoned this union, Vicar? You should be ashamed! Why, I have not even met any families of Vicars whom I found suitable." She turns on Prudence, "And who is this Mr. Vicar, sister? Is he that good-for-nothing that lives with his mother on the tenant farm? You should be ASHAMED!"

Vicar Warrenton clears his throat. "Er, no. You misunderstand. Your sister has accepted my proposal of marriage. She will become Mrs James Warrenton."

Prudence cringes behind James' arm.

Honoria Buttock stands up rather quickly.

Honoria Buttock's eyes suddenly roll back, and she collapses in a gentle swoon. The whalebone corset is obviously a WEE bit too tight.

Vicar Warrenton steps over Honoria and turns to his beloved. "There. That's done."

[ The End ]