Vow of Obedience (16 page)

In the lay cell, where her belongings still looked out of place, she took pad and paper and sat down on the floor, the Gloria said and her attention turned again to secular matters.

Sister Hilaria

There were other questions but those would do for now. She read over the sheet of paper with a vague feeling of dissatisfaction. Nothing fitted exactly, but that might be because she was trying to fit the pieces into a picture that wasn’t true.

She closed her book with a little snap and reached for her diary. Caesar had been given his due measure of attention. Now she was free to concentrate on her own halting progress towards the absolute.

At general confession she avoided everybody else with her scruples and confessed to general inattention and failure to
help Sister Teresa adequately with her duties. Sister Teresa, who as novice, was excused as yet from general confession had been parked in the kitchen with the two novices younger in the religious life in order to prepare supper. Outside the wind dominated the creeping dark.

At supper, Mother Dorothy checked the reading of the life of a saint whom few had heard of with a small gesture.

‘Sisters, I have received some advice from the police detective,’ she informed them. ‘The police are somewhat concerned by the lack of security here in view of recent events. I made it clear that we have not the smallest need or desire to live surrounded by electronic gadgets and the like, but in the world today there are indeed elements that threaten
everybody
, religious or secular. It has been suggested that we get a guard dog, a young Alsatian that can be trained to patrol the grounds at night and to accompany the sisters should their work take them alone into some isolated corner. I believe the question is suitable for general discussion.’

There was a ripple of barely voiced comment. Sister Martha was the first to speak, her thin face flushing as she realized she held the floor.

‘I thought that pets were forbidden by the rule, Mother.’

‘This would be a working dog.’

‘Working dog or pet, could it be trained not to dig up all my vegetables?’ Sister Martha pursued.

‘Has anyone ever trained a dog?’ Mother Dorothy looked brightly around.

‘When I was a girl I taught our canary to say “God bless you”,’ Sister Mary Concepta volunteered.

‘One cannot train a dog to do that, Sister,’ Sister Gabrielle snubbed. ‘I can’t see what canaries have to do with anything.’

‘It was a very pretty one,’ Sister Mary Concepta said wistfully. ‘But a dog would be very nice too. It would be a lady dog?’

‘It would certainly be more fitting,’ Sister Perpetua said, the corners of her mouth quivering slightly.

‘Am I to take it that we’re agreed a dog might be a good idea?’ Mother Dorothy cast her bright glance round again.

‘Who would do the training?’ Sister David asked.

‘There are classes to which one can take dogs – obedience training,’ Sister Katherine said.

‘That might serve, if the budget will run to it.’ Mother Dorothy shifted her gaze to Sister Joan. ‘Since you are assisting with enquiries, Sister, perhaps you will ask Detective Sergeant Mill to look out for a good dog – a lady dog – for us? You must make it clear that we shall be willing to pay for one from a good litter.’

Sister Joan nodded docilely, not expressing her opinion that Detective Sergeant Mill had more urgent matters to attend than the finding of a guard dog for the Daughters of Compassion.

‘There remains the unfortunate business at the postulancy,’ Mother Dorothy was continuing.

She had evidently acquainted the rest of the community with the facts during Sister Joan’s absence since nobody looked puzzled.

‘You’ve heard nothing further?’ Sister Perpetua enquired.

‘Nothing at all. In my opinion it may have been a practical joke, but one cannot be at all sure. I suggest that Sister Marie and Sister Elizabeth therefore move their things over to the main house for the time being. Better safe than sorry.’

Glancing down the table Sister Joan saw relief on Sister Elizabeth’s face, a flash of disappointment on Sister Marie’s more piquant features.

‘If it isn’t a joke,’ she ventured, ‘and somebody is coming wouldn’t it be better not to discourage them?’

‘Are you suggesting, Sister, that I set up our novices as bait?’

‘Only if they were willing and of course certain precautions could be taken.’

‘Out of the question.’ Mother Dorothy’s tone was flat and firm. ‘These girls are my personal responsibility and I have no right to expose them even to the threat of danger or unpleasantness. Of course if any of the professed sisters is mad enough to go and sleep over in the postulancy at this time then the results must be on her own head, but I hope none of us is sufficiently featherbrained.’

But it was not, Sister Joan reflected, actually forbidden. Not that she had any intention …

‘Sister Perpetua will go with the novices to help them pack what they need and to ensure that the postulancy is locked,’ Mother Dorothy was saying. ‘Shall we continue with the
reading, Sister Martha? These Roman martyrs offer such a wonderful example to the rest of us.’

The reading continued, Sister Martha speeding up since it was her meal that was getting cold at the end of the table.

‘There will be recreation this evening,’ Mother Dorothy announced as they rose. ‘The last bulletin I received from the hospital informed me that Sister Hilaria is greatly improved. She has been sleeping most of the day but the doctors are pleased with her progress.’

It was Sister Gabrielle who asked the question that hovered on the tip of Sister Joan’s tongue.

‘Has she said what happened?’

‘Apparently she is suffering from a slight degree of amnesia, not uncommon in the circumstances,’ Mother Dorothy said. ‘She may remember everything in a few days.’

And that, thought Sister Joan, beginning to pile up plates, was something that someone wouldn’t be able to risk.

‘You look tired, Sister,’ Sister Teresa had paused to say.

‘Old age is creeping on,’ Sister Joan said vaguely.

Her disturbed night’s sleep was catching her up. It would be sheer folly to try and achieve anything useful before she had enjoyed her customary slumber. What was gratifying to recall was that Mother Dorothy had not forbidden any of the professed to go over and sleep in the postulancy. Neither had she actually forbidden any of them to turn somersaults all the way round the enclosure, she reminded herself, and felt a chuckle rising in her throat.

‘Shall I see to this, Sister?’ Sister Teresa was asking. ‘It isn’t any bother, and I like to keep busy. It stops me thinking about all the dreadful things that are happening.’

‘Thank you, Sister. I’ll go and check on Lilith.’ Sister Joan slipped from the room and went downstairs towards the kitchen quarters.

Above her she could hear the subdued murmur of voices as the sisters took up their sewing and knitting and settled themselves in the recreation room off the refectory. Sister Perpetua had already led the two novices out to collect what they would need for a night in the main house.

Lilith was docile tonight, not troubling to make a run for it. Sister Joan fed her, checked there was fresh water, promised herself that come Monday morning she’d muck out the stable
properly, and walked on through the yard past the shelter under which the convent car was lodged.

Ahead of her a foot struck against stone and she froze, aware of darkness and the piercing wind that blew the bushes in the garden.

Not any of the nuns now settled at recreation, nor Sister Teresa whose shape blocked the uncurtained, lighted kitchen window when she glanced back to see. And not Sister Perpetua and her charges.

Her mind having rapidly discounted all these possibilities she took a cautious step sideways which took her into the deepest shadow of the enclosure wall, and began to tread softly along its length to the gate. Her fingers found the latch and lifted it quietly.

Another step and she was in the garden with its maze of paths and winter bare beds and gaunt shapes of fruit trees stripped of their autumn bounty.

Whoever walked here had also stopped. For an instant she fancied that she heard breathing but it was only the wind soughing through the branches that spread like black lace against the paler grey of the walls.

‘Who is it?’ She kept one hand on the gate, raising her voice in what she hoped might sound like a commanding tone.

A bulk of darkness detached itself from the trees and moved towards her.

‘Good evening, Sister.’ The voice was undeniably masculine.

Relief, sweeping over her, made her tetchy.

‘Sergeant Barratt, what on earth do you think you’re doing, trespassing in the enclosure?’ she demanded crossly. ‘I thought you were an intruder – which, of course, you are. Unless you have permission?’

‘Not from your prioress, I’m afraid.’ Sergeant Barratt didn’t sound particularly regretful. ‘However, in view of the
circumstances
surrounding the attack on Sister …’

‘Hilaria.’

‘Sister Hilaria, yes. In view of that it is as well to check the grounds now and then.’

‘Not without letting someone know!’

‘The police are under no obligation to reveal their methods, Sister.’ His voice was irritatingly chiding.

‘Even so, there is a certain code of etiquette,’ she persisted.
‘Please ask Mother Prioress in future if you wish to – to stake out the enclosure. This is a most private part of the convent.’

‘I’ll make a note of it, Sister.’ He actually had the gall to sound amused as if he were humouring her.

‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly.

‘Perhaps it would be more sensible if you didn’t wander about in your own time in the dark,’ he went on to say.

‘I heard you walking here and came to investigate,’ she returned. ‘I am not very far from the house.’

‘And Sister Hilaria was not very far from the gate,’ he countered. ‘She is improving, I understand?’

‘Yes. Yes, thank God.’

‘And remembers nothing of the accident. Perhaps she will recall details in a day or two.’

‘I hope so,’ Sister Joan said, frowning slightly, trying to bring his face into clearer focus in the dark. The moon had hidden herself and she was trying to talk to a uniformed pillar with a faint shine of fair hair barely discernible in the gloom. But it was certainly Sergeant Barratt; she knew the cold, clipped, unattractive tone of his voice.

‘My apologies then, Sister, for startling you,’ he said.

‘I suppose you’re only doing your job,’ she relented. ‘The truth is that we’re all feeling jumpy. Have you – has there been any further developments?’

‘Nothing for public consumption, Sister. Shall I walk back with you to the house?’

‘No thank you.’

So she was now a member of the public. So much for vanity. She felt an unexpected surge of amusement.

‘You’re quite right, Sergeant. The police have every right to keep their methods to themselves,’ she said briskly. ‘But Mother Dorothy would appreciate it if she were told when our grounds were being patrolled.’

‘I’d just completed my inspection,’ he said woodenly. ‘You’ll not be troubled again tonight.’

‘Thank you, Sergeant.’ Some impulse caused her to linger, to add, ‘I had the pleasure of drinking a cup of coffee with your wife, Daisy. Did she mention it?’

‘Yes, I believe she did. That was kind of you, Sister.’

‘Moving to a strange part of the country where one hasn’t any friends can’t be very easy,’ she sympathized.

‘My career makes it difficult to have close friends,’ he said. ‘It was kind of you to take an interest in Daisy, but I’ve no doubt she will settle down eventually. She has the house and garden to attend.’

‘That must be very fulfilling for her,’ Sister Joan said with delicate malice.

‘Fulfilment lies in doing one’s duty,’ he said sententiously. ‘At least I’ve always found it so, haven’t you?’

Sister Perpetua was coming into the garden, followed by the two novices. Her cheerful voice boomed across the dark. ‘Come along, Sisters. We must get your things into the cells before we go into chapel. Keep close behind now.’

‘Good evening, Sister.’ Sergeant Barratt spoke briefly to Sister Joan and was gone before she could reply.

She frowned after him, then went through the gate into the yard again just as Sister Teresa opened the back door and peered out nervously.

‘Is that you, Sister?’

‘Right here, Sister. You go into recreation and I’ll finish up here.’ She spoke calmly, pleasantly, stepping into the arc of light thrown from within. ‘I was just checking on the gates. Sister Perpetua’s on her way with Sister Elizabeth and Sister Marie.’

‘Everything’s done, Sister. Thank you.’ Sister Teresa untied her apron and hung it neatly on its hook, hesitating as she reached the passage door to say, ‘Are we going to lock the back door early tonight?’

‘That’s a good idea. I’ll see to it,’ Sister Joan said.

She waited while Sister Perpetua bustled through with her charges, then looked out again across the yard. No footstep sounded; nothing moved.