Duty bound

“There was more snow where I came from. I suppose that’s unusual,”

says Mr Elliott. He came from Essex.

Now, aged 65 and four years after retiring on happily resolved health grounds, he’s the new priest-incharge of the Upper Teesdale parishes – Holy Trinity, Eggleston, St Mary’s at Middleton-in-Teesdale and St James the Less, way up top at Forest.

It’s tempting always to feel a bit sorry for St James the Less, forever in the big brother shadow of St James the Great, but the little church at Forest-in-Teesdale is a country delight, nonetheless.

All three would once have had their own vicar, the chap at Middleton probably assisted by a couple of curates to make sure he didn’t overstretch himself.

Amanda Pike, the last incumbent of the united parishes, left in 2008, barely three years after her licensing and not a year after being described in the AYS column as “a breath of fresh air, even in those breezy parts”.

Services have been taken by Anne Freestone, a non-stipendiary curate who’s a teacher in Darlington and by John Moore, the retired chaplain of Barnard Castle School.

Mr Elliott will be what the Church now calls house-for-duty, he and his wife, Micky, occupying Middleton rectory in exchange for two-and-ahalf days work a week, plus Sunday services.

“It’s going to be a voyage of discovery,”

he’d said in an earlier telephone chat. “The bishop’s clear that it should only be two-and-half days, but you can’t tell people not to die on a Tuesday or a Thursday. You have to be flexible, you have to be available.”

The constabulary used to be a bit like that. Not so long ago, Middletonin- Teesdale not only had resident 24- hour police officers but even a sergeant, big George Lear. Perhaps they should have house-for-duty pollisses, an’ all.

THE licensing service is held at St Mary’s at 3pm last Sunday, meteorologically the last day of winter.

The building is Victorian, though a church has stood on the site since the 12th Century. The churchyard has both snow and snowdrops, a huge bag of grit at the foot of the path.

Though the timing may be coincidental, the Sabbath farmers’ market ends at precisely that hour. The posters advertise produce from The Moody Baker, without – regrettably – explaining why the gentleman is so temperamental.

Several visiting clergy vest in the nearby Methodist church before a little march up the road. The Church of England doesn’t do marching.

They’re self-conscious, diffident. A couple of weeks in the Salvation Army would soon knock them into shape.

The church is filled, numbers including many of the couple’s seven children and 12 grandchildren, proceedings led by the Right Reverend Mark Bryant, the Bishop of Jarrow.

“It’s a rather exciting afternoon,” he says.

Much of the service follows a legal or ecclesiastical pattern, much talk of historic formularies and of canonical obedience, of catholic creeds and of section 67 of the pastoral measure of 1983, whatever that may be.

Local officials also offer brief words of welcome. One soothingly insists that it’s quite unusual to have a three-month snow cover, another congratulates the new man on his wisdom in coming to Middleton-in- Teesdale, a third – clearly the Private Walker of the upper dale – says that if Mr Elliott needs any DVDs, then he’s the feller to see.

The bishop talks of the Church’s need to know where it’s going, tells – not for the first time, as he acknowledges – the story of an Edwardian bishop of Exeter who, approached on a train by the guard, was wholly unable to find his ticket. Slowly realising the passenger’s high office, the guard explained that it really didn’t matter. “Oh yes it does,” replied the bishop. “I’ve completely forgotten where it is I’m going.”

Mr Elliott, a priest for most of his adult life but no longer the retiring type, tells the congregation that he perceives his new role as loitering with intent, urges them constantly to remind him who they are. “I’m hopeless with names,” he says.

He’s there for five years, must retire – “they chuck you out,” he’d said earlier – when he’s 70. “My task is to help them on to the next stage.

“My wife and I were sitting at breakfast last September and we wondered if that was all retirement was. I suppose we wanted a bit more adventure in our lives.

“It wasn’t a question of why, but of why not. We wanted to do something completely different and everything we hoped for has happened.

“It’s beautiful here, and we’ve never been made so welcome anywhere.

It’s amazing, really.”

The formalities over, the new man lawfully installed, just about his first prayer as parish priest is for good weather and abundant harvest.

Replete on a magnificent post-service spread, the dales folk may yet need his prayers. As they leave, it’s started to snow again.