‘Gaol, dear.’
‘Yes, the gaol,’ Tabitha said, unabashed. ‘That policeman came and took away the silver candlestick I found. I don’t like him.’
‘He’s just doing his job.’
‘I polished it ever so nice.’ The small face was wistful. ‘I’d have got good marks for that. Maybe I’d have won the prize. Like Petroc did, only he got dead.’
‘What prize?’ Sister Joan spoke sharply, too sharply. The child wriggled and shuffled her feet.
‘Samantha’s mum and dad give prizes to the best children,’ Edith piped up. ‘It’s a secret. If we tell anyone something awful will happen, so we have to be good all the time.’
‘Who told you that?’ She tried to sound no more than casually interested.
‘It’s a secret,’ Tabitha said, giving her sister a dig in the ribs. ‘We mustn’t tell.’
‘Surely you can tell me?’
‘If we tell we might end up dead,’ Tabitha said.
‘Petroc ended up dead,’ Edith said thoughtfully. ‘I don’t think he told. We thought he’d won the prize because he’s been very, very good.’
‘What is the prize?’ Sister Joan asked. The palms of her hands were wet.
‘We get to drink real champagne‚’ Tabitha said, lowering her voice, ‘and we get our photos took.’
‘Have you already—?’ Her heart felt ready to burst.
‘Petroc won the prize first,’ Edith said. ‘He was going to tell us all about it, but he never came back.’
‘He went to heaven,’ Tabitha announced.
‘Yes. Yes, he did,’ Sister Joan said, and hugged the little girl almost fiercely.
Study hour had already begun. She rose, wondering if she ought to warn the children to stay close to the wagon, but Conrad came past with a bucket of water, calling as he came, ‘‘Afternoon, Sister Joan. Now you two stay where I can keep an eye on you until your dad gets back.’
She drove back to the convent with speculations buzzing in her brain.
‘You were a long time, Sister.’ The Prioress had emerged from the kitchen as she went in the back way.
‘I’m sorry, Mother Dorothy, but there was quite a lot to do. Shall I tell you about—?’
‘Not just now, Sister.’ The voice was firm. ‘You had better hurry to your studies. I am expecting some interesting conclusions from you on the subject of the four branches of the rule.’
‘Yes, Mother Dorothy. Mother Dorothy—?’
‘What is it, Sister?’
‘I believe that it’s time to inform the detective sergeant about Kiki Svenson. It may help him obtain a search warrant. To the Olives’ house.’
‘I will telephone immediately. Your studies, Sister.’
Poverty, chastity, obedience, compassion. She went slowly to her cell, the words revolving in her mind. For a religious chastity included celibacy, but chastity itself was not always celibate just as celibacy was not always sterile. It was the damming up and diverting of the sexual instinct in order to bear spiritual fruit. Chastity was innocence and not ignorance; it was powerful and not weakly. And of all the rule it was the branch most vulnerable to temptation when one was young and spirited.
The bell for Benediction sounded before she had composed her ideas into the outline of an essay. Going downstairs, filing into the chapel, she felt the shock of loss as she saw the open coffin before the altar. The wound on Sister Margaret’s temple was hidden by her coif and there was a faint dreaming look upon her face.
‘Sisters’ Mother Dorothy was on her feet. ‘As you can see our beloved Sister Margaret has been brought home to lie among us until her burial on Monday. I say she is here but of course she is even now giving an account of herself before the Divine Throne—’
No, she is not! Sister Joan thought on a surge of rebellion. She is probably having a little chat with her Dear Lord, face to face, making Him laugh with her anecdotes about cooking and getting fish from Padraic Lee. She bowed her head and began to intone the prayers for the dead with her sisters.
‘There will be no recreation tonight,’ Mother Dorothy was saying. ‘We shall eat our supper which the postulants have kindly prepared under the supervision of Sister Teresa. Then we will have Benediction and then take our turns at watching with Sister Margaret. Sister Katherine and Sister David from eight to ten, Sister Martha and myself from ten to midnight, Sister Perpetua and Sister Teresa from midnight until two, — what is it, Sister Gabrielle?’
‘I wonder if Sister Mary Concepta and I could take the earlier vigil, Reverend Mother.’
‘I had not expected—’ Mother Dorothy began, then nodded. ‘Of course you too will wish to keep vigil. Very well. You and Sister Mary Concepta immediately after Benediction from eight to ten, Sisters Katherine and David from ten to midnight, Sister Martha and myself from midnight until two, Sister Perpetua and Sister Teresa from two until four, and Sister Hilaria and Sister Joan from four until six. After that our two postulants will watch until Father Malone comes to offer mass. Sister Marie and Sister Elizabeth, I think it would be wiser if you and Sister Hilaria were to sleep in the main house tonight. Sister Katherine will put blankets on the beds in the two empty cells and Sister Hilaria may occupy my cell since I will not be sleeping at all. Thank you, Sisters.’
They filed out and up into the refectory. This had once been a drawing-room in the days when the Tarquin family had owned the estate and it retained its noble proportions, its gilded cornices and picture rail. Double doors that could be fastened back to make a huge ballroom separated it from the recreation room. The arrangements of flowers, the gilt-edged mirrors and spindly-legged chairs that must once have graced it were replaced by two long tables and benches with a chair for
