I returned to work yesterday to find the treasurer in very excitable mood. He had, he assured me, very good news.
Rearranging the words “a”, “very”,”legacy” and “big” into a well known phrase or saying in my mind, I asked him what it was.
“A mistress,” he replied, clearly determined both to get my attention and milk the moment for all it was worth.
Turns out, according to his research, that one of the daughters of the congregation became Bonnie Prince Charlie’s mistress. How much more Jacobite can a congregation have been?
Her name, should you need to know, was Clementina and she claimed to have been beaten up by the Young Pretender at one stage.
It is a legacy of sorts, I suppose.
I’m left trying to think how to frame a motion for General Synod that would get her recognised in the Calendar.
Oooh oooh oooh, do it Provost, do it! We need our own St Rita – patron saint of battered wives amongst other things. You’ll certainly have my vote.