Vow of Penance Read Free Page B

will though it’s doubtful if His Holiness will see me!’ Having chuckled at his own small jest Father Malone shook hands all round, promised to send postcards, and bustled out, flinging the ends of his muffler over his shoulders as he went with the air of an elderly schoolboy let out for half-term.
    The normal routine of the conventual day continued. Cells must be swept and the two bathrooms at the end of the upper corridor scoured before the sisters repaired to their respective duties. The Order of the Daughters of Compassion was semi-enclosed, there being some latitude permitted if a nun was required to work beyond the enclosure. At the moment however, with the school closed and Sister Joan undertaking the task of lay sister, nobody needed to leave the grounds apart from Sister David who occasionally sought permission to go to the public library on matters connected with her research. Eventually the series of children’s stories she was writing might find a publisher and bring in some much needed revenue. For the rest Sister Martha sold what vegetables were in season after the convent had been supplied and Sister Katherine had a regular list of customers for her exquisite lace and embroidered accessories.
    And I, thought Sister Joan, scowling at a washrag, could earn more for the Order if Mother Dorothy would allow me to sell some paintings.
    The mother prioress had not, however, suggested that her talents should be put to such practical use. She probably thought that such praise would go to Sister Joan’s head. In which belief she was very likely justified, Sister Joan thought ruefully, giving the wash basin afinal rinse before she went downstairs to start polishing the entrance hall.
    From the passage that led past infirmary and office into the kitchen a voice said with a querulous edge, ‘So we are to have a new priest inflicted upon us just when I was hoping for some peace and quiet!’
    ‘No you weren’t, Sister Gabrielle,’ Sister Joan said, straightening up. ‘You loathe peace and quiet. You know you do.’
    ‘I like a nice mixture,’ Sister Gabrielle said placidly. ‘Do you know anything about this Father Timothy?’
    ‘Only that he’s newly ordained.’
    ‘Oh dear!’ The old nun pulled a wry face. ‘That means he’ll probably want to jazz up the mass with guitars and amplifiers and things.’
    ‘I imagine Mother Dorothy would have something to say about that,’ Sister Joan said, amused.
    ‘Well, God speed Father Malone anyway,’ Sister Gabrielle said. ‘I hope they don’t recognize his exceptional qualities in the Vatican or we’ll never get him back. When is this new priest arriving?’
    ‘Fairly soon I imagine, Sister. It’s a lot of work for Father Stephens to handle all by himself.’
    ‘You’d better get on with your polishing then,’ Sister Gabrielle said.
    ‘Yes, Sister. I stopped to talk to you.’ Sister Joan went floorwards again.
    ‘I don’t know what you young girls are coming to,’ Sister Gabrielle remarked. ‘In my day we managed to work and to exchange the occasional scrap of conversation at the same time.’
    She tapped her way back down the passage. Sister Joan paused long enough to chuckle and went on with her work.
    ‘Sister Joan, the dog got into the parlour again.’ Mother Dorothy emerged from the anteroom beyond which her parlour lay, the puppy scampering round herankles.
    ‘I’m very sorry, Mother Dorothy.’ Sister Joan captured the wriggling bundle.
    ‘I agreed to our having a dog on the premises provided the animal was trained as a guard dog and not permitted beyond the kitchen,’ Mother Dorothy scolded.
    ‘Yes, of course, Mother. It’s time for her training session now,’ Sister Joan said, escaping kitchenwards.
    Alice frisked happily at the end of her lead, a mood that would rapidly change, Sister Joan knew, when she was required to walk to heel.
    ‘Come on, sweetheart. Walkies!’
    She opened the kitchen door and went out into the yard. The