a moral asset. The wealthy can afford to be law abiding, generous and kind. The very poor cannot.
Even kindness is a struggle when you don’t know where your next penny is coming from.”
She gave a quirky smile.
“Poverty is only uplifting when you can choose it.”
“I wouldn’t disagree with that, but I don’t see the connection between beauty and wealth.”
“Beauty cushions you against the negative emotions that loneliness and rejection inspire. Beautiful people are prized they always have been, you made that point yourself so they have less reason to be spiteful, less reason to be jealous, less reason to covet what they can’t have.
They tend to be the focus of all those emotions, rarely the instigators of them.” She shrugged.
“You will always have exceptions most of them you uncovered in your book but, in my experience, if a person is attractive then that attractiveness runs deep. You can argue which comes first, the inner beauty or the outer, but they do tend to walk together.”
“So if you’re rich and beautiful the pearly gates will swing open for you?” She smiled cynically.
“That’s a somewhat radical philosophy for a Christian, isn’t it? I thought Jesus preached the exact opposite. Something like it’s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.”
Sister Bridget laughed good-humouredly.
“Yours was obviously an excellent convent.” She stirred her coffee absentmindedly with a biro.
“Yes, He did say that but, if you put it in context, it supports my view, I think, rather than detracts from it.
If you remember, a wealthy young man asked Him how he could have eternal life. Jesus said: keep the commandments. The youth answered: I have kept them, since childhood, but what more can I do. If you want to be perfect, said Jesus and I emphasise the perfect sell all you have and give it to the poor, then follow me. The young man went away sorrowing because he had many possessions and could not bring himself to sell them. It was then Jesus made the reference to the camel and the eye of the needle.
He was, you see, talking about perfection, not goodness.” She sucked the end of her biro.
“In fairness to the young man, I have always assumed that to sell his possessions would have meant selling houses and businesses with tenants and employees in them, so the moral dilemma would have been a difficult one.
But what I think Jesus was saying was this: so far you have been a goodman, but to test how good you really are, reduce yourself to abject poverty. Perfection is to follow me and keep the commandments when you are so poor that stealing and lying are a way of life if you want to be sure of waking up the next morning. An impossible goal.” She sipped her coffee.
“I could be wrong, of course.” There was a twinkle in her eye.
“Well, I’m not going to argue the toss with you on that,” said Roz bluntly.
“I suspect I’d be on a hiding to nothing. But I reckon you’re on very bumpy ground with your beauty is a moral asset argument. What about the pitfalls of vanity and arrogance? And how do you explain that some of the nicest people I know are, by no stretch of the imagination, beautiful?”
Sister Bridget laughed again, a happy sound.
“You keep twisting my words. I have never said that to be nice you have to be beautiful. I merely dispute your assertion that beautiful people are not nice. My observation is that very often they are. At the risk of labouring the point, they can afford to be.”
“Then we’re back to my previous question. Does that mean ugly people are very often not nice?”
“It doesn’t follow, you know, any more than saying poor people are invariably wicked. It just means the tests are harder.” She cocked her head on one side.
“Take Olive and Amber as a case in point. After all, that’s why you’ve really come to see me. Amber led a charmed life. She was quite the loveliest child I’ve ever seen and with a nature to match. Everyone adored her. Olive, on the other hand, was universally unpopular. She had few redeeming features. She was greedy, deceitful, and often cruel. I found her very hard to like.”
Roz made no attempt to deny her interest. The conversation had, in any case, been about them from the beginning.
“Then you were being tested as much as she was. Did you fail? Was it impossible to like her?”
“It was very difficult until Amber joined the school.
Olive’s best quality was that she loved her sister, without reserve and quite unselfishly. It was really rather touching. She fussed over Amber like a mother hen, often ignoring her own interests to promote Amber’s. I’ve never seen such affection between sisters.”
“So why did she kill her?”
“Why indeed? It’s time that question was asked.”
The older woman drummed her fingers impatiently on the desk.
“I visit her when I can. She won’t tell me, and the only explanation I can offer is that her love, which was obsession ai turned to a hate that was equally obsessional. Have you met Olive?”
Roz nodded.
“What did you make of her?”
“She’s bright.”
