The Vicarage Bench Anthology Read Free Page A

through. All the time you were talking to that handsome John Norman, I was so tongue-tied I was sick to my stomach.”
    “I noticed. We barfed all over his hands and feet.”
    “Sorry. When my nerves are upset I have the tendency to get sick.”
    “And faint.”
    “It’s a family curse.”
    “So’s overeating.”
    “Only when I’m nervous. I get nervous a lot.”
    “Figures. Your body weighs a ton, and I’d lay money on it that your feet swell up from the blasted steel girdle you had on. Your legs look hideous. It’s no wonder you wear those goofy long, full-skirted dresses.”
    Tears gushed out, followed by hiccups.
    “Stop it. You even cry badly.”
    “Well, then, stop being so mean to me. You’re hurting my feelings.”
    “Look, what happened at the vicarage? Why am I together with you in your body? What did you do?”
    “I don’t know. I was on my way home from church, and I’d stopped to sit on my favourite bench in front of the vicarage when I saw John Norman coming. I got scared and hid behind the trellis with the roses, the one directly behind the bench. I remember I pricked my finger on a rose thorn and felt giddy, so I sat back down, and then there you were. Taking over, I might add.”
    “If I had my way, you’d have you back all to yourself, and I’d be me again, so don’t blame me. I was just sitting there on the same bench, but for me the date was 2006.”
    “I saw you for a few seconds during the transformation. You looked like a movie star, with beautiful reddish hair, and you were tall and skinny.”
    “My hair is chestnut, not reddish, and I’m slender, not skinny. I have to be thin. I’m a model.”
    “Ohhh, you lucky ducky. I wish I was—thin, that is. But maybe it’s better I’m not, or we both might not fit.”
    “Don’t be so dumb. I’m not all here. Just my mind, or my brain and my soul, I guess. Aw, hell, I don’t know what all travelled over with me.”
    “Well, your mind has a big, mean mouth. You hurt my feelings, laughing and sneering at me earlier.”
    “I’ll be doing more than that, girlfriend. Get used to the idea of a few changes. I’m giving you fair warning—we’ll be following my routine from now on, until I’m outta here.”
    “Crikey! That’s not fair.”
    “Tough. Seems I’m stronger than you, so get used to it. Now shush and go to sleep. We need our beauty rest or we’ll look like hell in the morning.”
    “You won’t be gone when I wake up, will you?”
    “I guess not.”
    A feeling of well-being settled over the pair and sleep followed.

Chapter Four
    “This better be good,” croaked Jake. His voice reflected the vicious flu that had attacked his body just a few days before.
    “It’s Marnie here, Jake. There’s something dreadfully wrong with Jenna.” Sobs were apparent in her voice.
    “What is it? What the hell are you talking about?”
    “Jake, she’s slipped into a coma. The doctors are stumped. They can’t find any reasons for her being unconscious.”
    “What do you mean, she’s unconscious? Was she in an accident? Is she sick?” His voice roared through the transatlantic wires so clearly one would think he was in the next room.
    Bringing the phone back to her ear, Marnie wailed, panic resonating in her voice, “I don’t know what happened. One minute she was sitting on the bench at the front of our rental place, the old vicarage, and by the time I’d joined her, she was slumped over and gone…”
    “Gone?” He cut her off. His bossy, managing forcefulness steadied her as nothing else could have. She sniffed, gulped and cleared her voice.
    “Marnie, for God’s sake.”
    “I don’t know, Jake. I tried to wake her up, and I couldn’t. They’ve taken her to the nearest hospital and have started to run the whole gamut of tests. The doctors mentioned possibilities of infection, or diabetes, stroke—even a brain tumour. I’ve answered so many questions I don’t know if I’m coming or going. It’s all