Infidel Teaching

by Emma McEvoy

Across the aisle in the packed courtroom, the teacher steals a sideways glance at the vicar. On first impressions, with his silvery white beard and rosy complexion, you could mistake him for a gentle old man. Look closer, however, and you will see the steely zeal in his eyes, no doubt you will sense the righteous religious fervor pulsing through his veins. He must sense her gaze, as he turns towards her, and smiles a smile that never reaches his eyes.

God is on my side, he mouths, holding his bible aloft.

She whips her head away, stares down at her quivering lap where her fists are clenched. In an attempt to still her trembling legs, she places her palms on her thighs and pushes down firmly; with quiet exhalations, she tries to regulate both her breathing and her racing heart.

On a changing wind, not even a year ago, she’d breezed into the village, brimming with hope and enthusiasm. She was keen to embrace a new way of life, far from the smoke and screech of the railways, far from the sound of the steam whistle which returned her weary father and brothers to their cramped terraced home each evening. She came, bursting with plans for the difference she could make to the lives of the children, wanting to help, to inspire and teach.

But who does she think she is? was the response. A mistress cannot teach our boys! What does a young slip of a thing from the city know about a country school and our country ways?

The parish gossip sailed in through the open windows while she planned her lessons, wounding her confidence and raising doubts in her mind. She tried to ignore the cutting remarks, reminding herself instead of her vocation.

Her greatest opponent, however, is the aging parson who seems intent on her demise. He has used his pulpit to denounce her, has called public meetings to drag her reputation through the mud, and has written letters to the newspapers about her. His accusation? Infidel teaching. It’s so preposterous it’s almost funny. If an afterlife exists, she hopes Darwin is looking down, amused by the repercussions of his theory when taught in an Edwardian school in the north of England. They were not ready, she thinks to herself.

“All rise,” commands the clerk. A hush settles upon the room. The atmosphere is charged. The room is packed. She knows they have all come for a spectacle, and that she is part of the show. The reporters are poised with their pencils and notepads.

She smooths down her skirt, throws back her shoulders and raises her chin in a gesture she hopes will convey a confidence she does not feel. Tomorrow’s headlines will report on a young working class woman who sued a village vicar for slander and libel. She dares to dream that the headlines will proclaim her victory.

About the author

Emma McEvoy enjoys writing short stories and flash fiction. Her writing has appeared online and in print publications. After growing up in Ireland and living in France and Japan, she is now based in the north of England where she lives with her husband, two teenage children, and a naughty beagle.

About the illustration

The illustration is Fishlake Haywain, photographer unknown, photograph April 1905. In the collection of the Fishlake History Society, Fishlake, UK. In the public domain, as Crown Copyright has expired.