The Reaper by Peter Lovesey Read Free Book Online Page A

if they go on pushing up the figure as they do. They don't understand the problems of running a parish year in, year out."
    "Precisely what I found in education," said Stanley, helped onto his favourite hobby-horse. "The people at County Hall had no conception what it was like to be head of a school with out-of-date textbooks and temporary buildings. All the money went to that damned great folly up the road, if you'll forgive my language."
    "The Sixth Form College?"
    "The Ivory Tower, I call it."
    "Still, if that's the way our masters want to spend the money ..."
    "The men in suits," Stanley said with contempt, regardless that he was never seen in anything else.
    "We can only carry on as usual. It's the same with the church. We must trust that the Lord will provide. And the coffee mornings."
    "There's a limit to those, Rector. You can't put on more than one a month. People won't come."
    "We have the income from the fete," the rector reminded him. "Beat all records this year."
    "We couldn't get by without that. I was going to mention that some extra came in late as usual. The unsold secondhand books were offered to a dealer and raised twenty-five pounds, and thirty-eight more came in from door-to-door sales for the raffle. It's cash in hand that we can put into your contingency fund."
    "You think so?"
    Stanley nodded emphatically. "It's the best thing that happened to this parish for years, that little account with the Halifax. I mean, if all these extras showed as income in the accounts, our quota would be sky high."
    "You're happy to continue with this unofficial arrangement?"
    "More than happy. It's our salvation, Rector."
    The word "salvation" was a little strong for a man of the cloth. "A safety net, anyway. But 1 think we should keep it confidential."
    "Absolutely. We don't want the new bishop to hear of it when he's appointed. He'll only raise the quota."
    "There's no need for anyone to hear of it."
    "Specially the bishop."
    "We don't need to personalise it, Stanley. You and I know that the board of finance does the sums and recommends the figure to the Synod."
    "Sorry. I shouldn't let it get to me."
    "But you're right in principle. They don't need to know every detail. We pay our share to the diocese, Stanley."
    "And on time. Do you know, I've heard of churches—no names, no pack-drill—who wait until the end of the year before stomping up. It's unfair on the rest of us, because that money could have been accruing interest for the diocese and bringing down our quota."
    "In theory, anyway."
    "Well, it wouldn't have to rise so steeply."
    "And are you still adding all the columns yourself, without using a calculator?"
    Stanley was proud of hi|s mental arithmetic. "It keeps the brain ticking over, Rector. (The day they allowed the damned things into the classroom was a disaster. But if ever you find a discrepancy in my figures, I'll be happy to hand over. Some day it's going to happen. The brain cells don't replace themselves."
    "I don't see any sign of yours failing," Otis Joy was quick to assure him.
    "That's a relief."
    "Truth to tell, Stanley, most of the clergy are duffers with money, and I'm no exception. Finance doesn't excite me in the least. I know it's part of a priest's job and can't be shirked these days. In fact, it seems increasingly to dominate parish business. So it's specially helpful that you manage our accounts so well."
    Those words acted like a blessing. Stanley left the rectory in a glow of self-esteem, firmly resolved to continue as treasurer for at least another year. The more he saw of this young rector, the more he liked him.
    Otis Joy, too, was quietly satisfied. He had been fortunate with treasurers at the two churches he had served as priest. Retired men, both of them, committed Christians, anxious to co-operate fully in the mundane business of financing church activities. How can a rector effectively carry out God's work if he is worried over money?
    Take the matter of expenses. No priest