Cast the First Stone by Margaret Thornton

intended to be a chance for the teenage boys and girls of the parish to get friendly and start ‘pairing off’ – although this did, inevitably happen – but to take part in such wholesome pursuits as tennis, rounders and five-a-side cricket in the summer, or table tennis and badminton in the winter, along with quizzes and discussions of a meaningful nature.
    Fiona went along to the Youth Club, and she also joined the vicar’s Confirmation class, partly to please her parents – she had always been an obedient girl – and partly because her best friend, Diane, had agreed to go with her. They were both confirmed at the age of fourteen, wearing modest white dresses and with veils covering their hair. Fiona looked upon it all as seriously and reverently as she was able, but she could not in all honesty have said that she felt any different after the event.
    Meanwhile, her parents were becoming more and more involved. The Tuesday evening Bible class soon became important to them, and Wilfred was proud and pleased when the Reverend Cruikshank asked him if he would become a sidesman. His duties included welcoming people to the services and going round with the collection plate. Within a year he had progressed from his position as sidesman to that of church warden.
    For an ordinary man such as Wilfred, with no pretensions to wealth or eminence, it was a great honour. He insisted at first that he was not suitable or worthy – he was only a warehouse man in a local mill – but the vicar reminded him that Jesus himself had chosen his helpers from among the common people: the fishermen, the carpenters and the tax collectors.
    Mary, also, had become a very active member of the congregation. She joined the Mothers’ Union, which met once a month on a Wednesday afternoon for a devotional meeting, led by the vicar’s wife, Hannah. The vicar’s wife was a devout woman but she lacked the dynamism of her husband. She appeared to be very much in his shadow and followed his lead in everything. It was noticed that they were similar in appearance. Hannah had the same gingerish hair that she wore in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and the same myopic blue eyes that peered out from behind rimless glasses. They were, in fact, second cousins who had known one another from childhood and it had always been taken for granted that they would marry. They had one son, Timothy, aged fifteen when they came to the parish, who was the apple of their eye.
    Mary and Hannah found themselves drawn to one another. They were both of a quiet disposition and had not sought friendship or recreational pursuits outside the home or, in Hannah’s case, the church. Mary’s chief aim in life had been to make a comfortable home for her husband and, later, for their daughter. The only interest she had pursued was connected with Fiona’s schools, firstly the Primary school and then the grammar school for girls. (Fiona had passed her eleven plus exam with flying colours as they had always thought she would.) Mary was now serving on the committee of the Girls’ Grammar School PTFA: a willing, self-effacing member who would take on any task allotted to her, usually making the tea and washing up, or looking after the home-made cake stall at the Summer or Christmas Fayres.
    Now, at Hannah’s persuasion, she had become a member of the Church Council, not a very vociferous one, to be sure, but she was becoming much more active in the life of the church.
    Fiona was not too sure how she felt about the change in her mother – in fact, in both her parents. Her dad was quite cock-a-hoop about his position as church warden, and she was forced to suppress a smile when she watched him on a Sunday morning as he processed with the vicar and the choir down the centre aisle, proudly carrying his staff of office. And he was never seen at Sunday worship or at the midweek Bible meeting without his large black Bible. As far as