‘Oh, you religious types,’ she sighed, stretching out on the grass. ‘Funny lot you all are.’
‘You’re going to have a lot of adjustments to make,’ said Adam anxiously. ‘Perhaps I should help you understand what Christian marriage is. Perhaps we should focus on that in our study sessions.’
Evie laughed, a trill that sent the ducks quacking over to the other bank of the river.
‘You want to teach me how to be a wife? You’re classic, Adam, you know that?’ She rolled over to face him, smiling up at him. ‘But I do like you.’
‘More than like, I hope.’
‘Yeah.’ She reached up to stroke his cheek. ‘More’n like.’
‘Our love must be faithful and exclusive,’ he said earnestly. ‘Nobody else can have you now.’
‘We ain’t married yet.’
‘Evie!’
‘Tell you what. Let’s go back to yours and – get a bit of practice in. For the wedding night, like.’
‘No. No sex before marriage.’ A flashback to all those nights with Julia, so vivid his stomach ached, burst into his brain. ‘We should wait.’
‘Who’d care? You
r God? He don’t care. He knows I’ve been around the block, I should think, what with being omniscient and all.’
‘Evie. I want to do this properly.’
‘Can you do it properly, though? That’s my question. When it comes down to brass tacks – have you had a woman?’
Adam swallowed and looked out over the river.
‘Adam. I asked you a question. Are you a virgin?’
He shook his head.
‘Really? I thought you were, for some reason. Bad boy, were you, back before you took up wearing that dog collar?’ She curled her fingers inside it, poking his neck. ‘Love it. Such a sexy look. My man in his dog collar. Not like the ones we put on the subs at work. They really are dog collars, leashes and all.’
‘Yes, well, the less said about that the better.’ Adam’s tone was stiff. ‘And you’re going to have to learn to stop saying everything that comes into your head. I can’t have you talking about – subs – at the Bishop’s palace garden party.’
Evie pouted. ‘Why not? What am I supposed to talk about?’
‘The weather. A good book you read recently. A charity you support.’
‘I support the Saxonhurst cricket team. Will that do?’
Adam clenched his fist, remembering that awful afternoon in the sports pavilion.
‘I have a lot of work to do on you,’ he said under his breath. ‘But I’ll get there.’
‘That sounds ominous.’ A cloud covered the sun and she sat up and hugged herself. ‘We going home for that shag then, or what?’
‘No, we are not. But I do need to book the service and call around for a clergyman to officiate. I take it you want to use St Jude’s?’
‘Register office’d do me fine,’ she said sulkily.
‘Don’t be silly. Come on. Let’s get home. We can call at your parents’ on the way back – tell them the good news.’
If they thought the news good, Evie’s parents didn’t do much to show it. Her father, out in his combine harvester, wasn’t available, and her mother stood at the counter in the farm shop, counting out eggs into boxes without even looking up.