The Lesson Learned - A short story

The train lurched out of the station, rattling through London’s grey outskirts. Over the tannoy, a voice crackled with the familiar warning:

‘If you see anything suspicious, please report it to someone in authority. Remember. See it. Say it, Sorted.’

Ralph rolled his eyes. ‘Blimey, that’s the third time they’ve said that. Bill grinned. ‘Makes me laugh. I always want to shout back, ‘See it, steal it, sell it!’ Ralph chuckled, but the sound faltered as unwelcome memories surfaced, casting a shadow over his smile. ‘Still, there’ve been a few nasties over the years. Wouldn’t want to be on the end of someone’s idea of freedom.’ ‘Fair point,’ said Bill. He shifted in his seat ‘Anyway, what’s the plan for today?’

After London Bridge, Ralph checked his watch. ‘I thought we’d have a look round St Paul’s Cathedral. Haven’t been there for years. They even filmed a Harry Potter scene – Dumbledore’s office steps there.’ Bill stared. ‘Didn’t know you were a Potter fan.’ ‘Afraid so,’ Ralph said cheerfully. Their laughter faded as the ticket inspector approached, shifting the mood. ‘Tickets, please.’ Bill handed them over.‘ Excuse me, what time do we reach London Bridge?’ ‘In about fifteen minutes,’ said the inspector. ‘What takes you to the city?’ ‘St Paul’s Cathedral’, Ralph said. ‘Haven’t been for ages.’ ‘That’ll cost you,’ the inspector said. ‘Twenty-five quid a head these days. A rip-off if you ask me.’ ‘Bit like the trains,’ Bill quipped. The inspector grinned. ‘Good one, that. Haven’t heard it before.’ As he left them, Ralph leaned in, conspiratorial. ‘I’m going to change in the loo. Look in the bag; you’ll see what I mean. ’He disappeared down the carriage. When he returned, Bill nearly spat out his coffee. ‘Where did you get those?’ Ralph adjusted the borrowed clerical collar, a mischievous glint in his eye. ‘My brother’s a vicar. Told him I wanted to visit St Paul’s, and he laughed and said, ‘Clergy get in free.’ So, he lent me a couple of shirts and collars. Go on, your turn. ’Bill stared at the white tab of cloth.‘ You’re insane.’ ‘Just put it on. We’re nearly there.’ Bill did as instructed and returned to Ralph, looking very self-conscious.

Before he could sit down, a shout erupted at the far end of the carriage. ‘Don’t be stupid, lad. Just pay for your ticket, and we’ll say no more,’ the inspector barked. ‘Try and make me,’ came a snarling voice. ‘What are you going to do about it?’ Ralph and Bill exchanged glances. Sensing trouble, they hurried down the aisle, two unlikely vicars rushing to the rescue. ‘Do you need a hand?’ Bill called. The young man turned.‘ That’s all we need — two stupid vicars playing heroes.’ He pulled a machete from under his jacket.‘ Back off, or I’ll cut you up!’ Ralph let out a short, oddly calm laugh. ‘Oh dear, sonny. You’ve made one big mistake. ’Before anyone could blink, there was a scuffle, a thud, and the young man lay sprawled across the seats, out cold. One lady gave out a scream, and some of the passengers were filming on their phones.

The inspector gaped.‘ I thought vicars were men of peace.’ Ralph rubbed his right hand. ‘Sometimes peace needs a little persuasion. ’‘We’re just arriving; can you wait till the police arrive?’ ‘Of course,’ said Bill smoothly. As soon as the inspector turned away, he hissed, ‘Let’s get out of the next carriage before they realise who we are.’ They slipped off at the far end just as the inspector returned with the police, muttering, ‘You never can tell; one of them had a hell of a right hook. Looks like they didn’t want to hang around.’ The policeman spoke. ‘That’s all very well, but we will need statements from them. I’ll have to put out a news bulletin.

Outside the station, London’s noise hit them like a wave. ‘That was too close,’ said Bill. ‘Taxi!’ They both dived into the first black cab they saw. Relief washed over them.‘ Where to, Fathers?’ the driver asked, smiling in the mirror. ‘St Paul’s Cathedral,’ Ralph said. ‘Special service, is it?’ ‘Just visiting, ’Bill said quickly.‘ Haven’t been for years.’ ‘My brother-in-law’s a vicar.’ The cabbie said. Philip Steadfast, Farnham Way. You might know him.’ ‘Sorry,’ Bill said. ‘Different diocese’. When they arrived, the cabbie waved away their money.‘ On the house, Fathers. You’re almost family. ’Ralph protested, but the man winked and drove off. Bill groaned. ‘This pretending’s getting dangerous. I need a drink. There’s a pub opposite the cathedral. ’They slipped inside, grateful for the dim light and clink of glasses. They decided to sit in a snug, out of sight of any prying eyes. Bill went up to the bar. ‘What can I get you?’ asked the woman who was serving. ‘Two large whiskies,’ Bill said. ‘And can we have a look at the menu?’ She smiled. ‘I’ll bring them over.’ They noticed people glancing at them. Not suspiciously, just with a kind of half-smile recognition. The woman returned with drinks and menus. ‘Today’s special is onion soup’ ‘We’ll have two of those, please,’ Bill said. Before she could walk away, a man from the bar approached. ‘It is you two, isn’t it?’ ‘Sorry?’ said Ralph, heart thudding. ‘You’re on the news – two vicars took down a machete guy on a train. One of you has a punch like Tyson. Railway police want to thank you. ’Bill managed a weak laugh. ‘Us? Don’t be daft. We’re too old for heroics.’ ‘Well, whoever they are,’ said the man, ‘they deserve a medal. If more vicars were like that, I’d start going to church again.’ He raised his pint and walked off. Bill and Ralph sat frozen, the weight of everything crashing onto their shoulders. ‘This is getting out of hand. ’Ralph whispered.‘ If my brother finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.’ The woman returned with their soup. ‘Enjoy,’ she said with a wink. ‘Nice work on the train, by the way.’‘ We keep getting mistaken for those two,’ Bill said weakly. ‘Of course you do,’ she said, smiling. They ate quickly, avoiding eye contact, then left the pub without ordering dessert.

After leaving the pub, they made their way to St Paul’s, joining the line of tourists stretched around the courtyard.

Before they could reach the end, a volunteer in a blue sash waved them forward. ‘This way, gentlemen. Clergy don’t have to pay.’ ‘Thank you,’ said Ralph, trying not to look guilty. Inside, the vast echoing dome loomed above. Their footsteps sounded like gunshots. ‘I don’t feel right,’ Bill muttered, anxiety clawing at his chest. ‘After all this, maybe it’s divine payback,’ Ralph said, his voice trembling. ‘We should’ve just paid the fifty quid. ’‘Too late now,’ said Ralph. ‘Let’s do a quick look round and scarper.’

‘Good afternoon, Fathers,’ said a voice. A man in clerical robes approached, smiling. ‘I’m Robert, the duty chaplain today. Lovely to see colleagues taking an interest in the cathedral. Which parish are you from? ’Bill swallowed. ‘Sutton.’ ‘What a coincidence! I’m nearby at St Martin’s. Which church?’ ‘Er,’ Bill hesitated. Ralph jumped in.‘ Actually, we’re retired. ‘My friend here’s a Baptist.’ ‘Splendid. Well, perhaps I could offer you a tour? ’Ralph’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out theatrically.‘ Ah, sorry, urgent matter we must attend to.’ ‘That’s a pity,’ The chaplain said, handing over his card. Ralph and Bill were squirming with embarrassment. The chaplain carried on oblivious. ‘Do be careful on the trains. There was an incident this morning; two heroic clergy helped an inspector deal with an armed passenger!’ Ralph forced a smile. ‘Imagine that.’

They backed out, past the staring tourists. Outside, they collapsed onto the cathedral steps. ‘Right,’ said Ralph. ‘These collars come off now. ’Bill yanked his off with a growl.‘ Feels like someone’s writing this all down as a bad sitcom.’ ‘You’re telling me. I won’t be impersonating anyone again.’ ‘Nor me. Let’s find a pub where no one knows who we are.’ Ralph grinned. ‘If we ever try something like this again, I’m dressing as an astronaut. Nobody’ll see my face.’ ‘Now that’s divine inspiration,’ Bill said. ‘Come on, let’s get a drink before God teaches us another lesson. ’They disappeared down the street, two men who’d discovered, quite by accident, that being a man of the cloth was far harder than it looked.

Revd. John Scott