Barbara turned round in her seat. “Stop it, you naughty!” she yelled, her voice rising above the second Collect. “Give me it back, you naughty!” The small boy behind her had snatched her tam-o’-shanter; he was clutching it firmly to him.
His mother pursed her lips and frowned at the little boy; he gave the tam-o’-shanter back to Barbara and began to cry noisily. I turned back; the game was over. It was harmless enough, even if rather immature, to arrange undressed women in a circle and deal them out like cards; but the girl next to the little boy’s mother wasn’t someone who could be dealt out . . . I didn’t know her, I’d never seen her before in my life, but I knew that much already from one glimpse I’d had of her face, calm and smiling. Defend us in the same with thy mighty power; and grant that this day we fall into no sin, neither run into any kind of danger; but that all our doings may be ordered by thy governance, to do always that is righteous in thy sight. . . .
Calm and faintly smiling; I went over the synonyms for calm. Tranquil, serene, quiet, undisturbed, at rest, at peace; and tranquil was the right one, being positive. I didn’t dare to turn round again; I could sense that not only Susan but the Browns were looking at me.
I glanced over to the left; they were sitting near the front. There weren’t any pews at St. Alfred’s any longer; but my mother-in-law didn’t seem to recognize the fact. There was a pew around them and their guest, Ralph Hethersett, even though to all appearances they were sharing the same kind of bench as the rest of the congregation. There was a barrier, there was an order of precedence; I felt a spasm of hatred and of fear when I looked at his thick red neck and her sharp profile. And what was Hethersett doing here, so far away from home? This was his third week-end visit this year; and I knew that my father-in-law never as much as bought anyone a drink without a purpose.
The congregation rose for the hymn; I was a few seconds behind everyone else, which I knew would be another item in the score against me. Reproof wouldn’t follow immediately, of course. But at some future date my mother-in-law would refer to the sort of people who were so stupid or impious – really one didn’t know which – that they couldn’t even follow the order of the service. And I would know who she meant and from the tone of her voice and the direction of her glance, so would everyone else.