A Willing Recruit

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Ulla's alarm went off, she rolled off the bed, and plodded to the kitchen. It was only when she pressed the Start button on the vicarage's outdated coffee machine when she realised she properly didn't have to get up that early.

"Shit," she said and stared at her reflection in the window above the sink.

So, what are you going to do with all this time on your hands, Ulla? That is, after you rework your CV and apply for a hundred depressing jobs that you'll hate if you get them because they will suck your soul dry.

She opened the fridge and stared inside. It was pretty empty, with the exception of a few containers once again provided by Oli's sisters-in-law. There was Fiona's butter chicken, George's quiche, and Viola's dinner, the name of which Ulla forgot, that consisted of aubergine, tomatoes and tiny lamb kebabs, which was a culinary equivalent of a multiple orgasm. Ulla and Oli had been trying not to eat it all in one sitting! There was nothing for breakfast, and Ulla closed the fridge.

"Morning," Oliver said, slowly entering the kitchen.

"I've started tea," Ulla said in a miserable tone. "But there's no bread for your marmalade toast."

He nodded, rubbed his left eye, and yawned.

"Why are you dressed?" he asked.

"Because I forgot I don't have a job to go to anymore," Ulla grumbled. "I'll go change."

"Do you need help taking off your suit?" he asked. His left eyebrow did the jumping thing. "I quite like the suit. The trousers are most... exciting."

"I'm not in a mood, Oli," Ulla grumbled.

He gave her a soft smile.

"I'm sorry, love." The sultry purr was immediately gone from his voice. "What do you think about getting breakfast in town? I've been feeling quite cooped up, and there's no brekkie. And you seemed to enjoy Miss Rosa's scones."

"I didn't quite enjoy her prices, especially now that I'm unemployed," Ulla muttered and then sighed. "Yeah, I think we should go out. I'll go change, and then we can go."

***

Ulla parked her car, and they entered the tearooms. The bell rang above the door - and then immediately Ulla felt the eyes of every person in the café on herself and Oli. Ah, right, the vicar. The vicar who almost died not so long ago. Bugger.

"Reverend!" Miss Rosa greeted them from behind the counter. "And Ms. Svensson! Please, sit down!"

She rushed to them and ushered them to a table by the window. A waiter was already running to them with two menus.

"Coffee for you to start, my dear?" Miss Rosa asked.

"Yes, thank you," Ulla muttered.

"Oh Reverend!" came from the corner, and a small elderly lady was hurrying to the, waving her arms at Oliver and yelling, "Don't get up, don't get up! Not with your heart, Reverend!"

Another two ladies had already gotten up, and were now hovering a few steps away - waiting for their turn, no doubt. Evidently, there will be a line, the voice of Tom Hiddleston announced in Ulla's head. A grey-haired gentleman in another corner lowered his paper and gave Oliver a wave. Ulla looked around. If she estimated right, only one person - a young blond lad at the furthest table - wasn't interested in a conversation with the vicar.

"Mrs. Groggin," Oliver greeted the first lady. "How can I help you?"

"You can start by introducing me to your companion," she said, her eyes running Ulla greedily.

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