‘Indeed I do, Father D. Nice to meet you, Jonathan.’ Murray stood up and gave Jonathan a firm handshake across the bed.
‘I won’t impose, I just wanted to drop in and see how you were doing,’ Jonathan said.
‘Arrah you’re not imposing at all. T’was very kind of you to bother coming in to see me. And it’s been very kind of you to even be in touch with me, considering that I upset you so terribly,’ he added remorsefully. ‘I told Murray about our encounter, I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Er . . . no . . .’ said Jonathan, taken aback.
‘I was Father Derek’s curate for about five years before I was laicized,’ the other man explained, seeing Jonathan’s surprise.
‘And a very good curate he was,’ the priest smiled. ‘Everyone loved him in St John’s. I was sorry when he left the parish and sorrier still when he told me he was leaving the priesthood. We lost a good one.’
‘Oh, did you leave to get married?’ Jonathan asked politely.
‘No, that wasn’t my reason for leaving, and, even if I did want to get married, our church and our state don’t allow gay marriage, unfortunately,’ the other man said humorously.
‘Oh . . . right!’ Jonathan, whose gay radar was usually pretty spot on, hadn’t picked up on that.
‘Your Hannah is some woman to argue the toss with,’ Father McDaid said mischievously. ‘Now she has me thinking: What’s all the fuss about? Love is love and that’s all that matters.’
Jonathan laughed, delighted. ‘She certainly makes you look at things differently, I’ll grant you that.’
‘You can say that again. I’m reading all sorts of books I would never have picked up if it hadn’t been for her.’ He pointed to a book on his locker. ‘The Nine Faces of Christ is a fascinating book about the Essenes and their initiations. And, having read it, I’m beginning to think that it’s very feasible indeed that Jesus and Mary Magdalene could have been married. Very thought-provoking reading. There’s so much out there that has been kept hidden and now it’s all being revealed. It’s actually quite invigorating,’ Father McDaid enthused.
‘I must read that one,’ Jonathan said.
‘So must I,’ Murray smiled.
‘And of course Hannah would say that I had my fall and landed up here getting a new hip for a reason. I’m sure she says things like that to you,’ Father McDaid twinkled.
‘Indeed she does,’ Jonathan grimaced.
‘Yes, well, I’m being given time to “rest, think, read and be minded, as well as be renewed in body”, she told me. She rings me every few days to see how I’m getting on. Could you credit that?’
‘I could,’ said Jonathan. ‘Hannah is a very special person.’
‘And if I hadn’t met you in the graveyard in Rosslara, I’d never have known about her, or never have come to have peace of mind. Thank you, Jonathan.’ The old man held out his hand and Jonathan grasped it and was surprised to feel a lump in his throat.
‘I’m glad we met. It was meant to be,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you took that huge step of going to see Hannah. As she would say, it’s all about moving on, and I can see it in you that you’ve changed and are more at peace than the man I met a few months ago.’
‘Indeed I am, my son, indeed I am. I feel I’ve been given a new lease of life. And when I get out of here on Christmas Eve, I’m going to enjoy what’s left of my life now that my burdens have been lifted from me, all thanks to you.’
‘That’s wonderful news, Father McDaid. I couldn’t be happier for you,’ Jonathan said warmly. It was true that the priest was in a far different space from the one the tormented person had been in at their first encounter. Jonathan could see for himself how the elderly man’s eyes were bright, his energy was invigorated and he was rested and at peace. Hannah had worked her magic for sure. Sometimes it only needed someone to point out a very obvious truth, which you’d been blind to, to set you free from a mindset that had imprisoned you, Jonathan reflected, very glad indeed that he hadn’t had to wait until he was an elderly man like Father McDaid to be gifted with someone of Hannah’s calibre and wisdom.
‘We should send your counsellor to the Vatican,’ Murray joked. ‘She might sort them out.’
‘She’d certainly set the cat among the pigeons. And the thing is, none of the theological arguments about being “the One True Church” would stand up to her basic premise that love is all there is, and we are all One! So simple when you think about it.’ Father McDaid opened the After Eights and passed them round.
‘I love these,’ Murray approved and Jonathan was struck by how kind he was to his former parish priest, unobtrusively straightening up his pillow, and filling his glass with water for him to take the tablet that was in a little container on his meal trolley.
‘You’ve a terrific view, haven’t you?’ Jonathan remarked as the last rays of the sunset faded and Daniel O’Connell’s iconic Round Tower, fringed by dark feathery foliage, was silhouetted starkly against the indigo sky.
‘Superb,’ agreed the priest. ‘It’s a grand hospital. Wonderful care, lovely staff and spotlessly clean. But then of course the nuns still have an input and it shows.’
‘It’s a pity we couldn’t put a few nuns in government, and in the banks, and we wouldn’t be in the state we’re in,’ Murray observed as a knock came to the door.
‘Ah it’s the torment herself,’ Father McDaid teased when he saw the physiotherapist appear. ‘She has
