I was impressed with how quickly he composed himself, but just then I caught just a faint whiff of scotch on his breath. He probably had a bad hangover, and he certainly wasn't going to be for me the only Anglican cleric who also happened to be a lush. Alcoholism has long had pandemic proportions among Anglican clergy, and for a few years I happened to be one of the victims. Further on I will give you an account of my rehabilitation and recovery, but for now let's stick with the old lush running the theological seminary. After he caught his breath he mentioned that I was enrolled as Kevin Wilson, and as far as he was concerned, Kevin Wilson I would remain. This I took as a slap in the face. I had registered not as Kevin, but as Karen, and that with the bishop's blessing, I sputtered in his face. I was then told that His Grace had no jurisdiction here because we were now in a different diocese. But I had an ace up my sleeve. I was on very friendly terms with the chaplain, and he was totally good with recognizing me as Karen Wilson. But I didn't have to go to him because, as it happened, the next morning, word got out that our noble provost had been felled overnight by a devastating stroke, possibly brought on by his drinking and maybe hastened forward a bit by me, from which he was to leave this mortal coil just ten days later....
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