REVELATIONS AND CONFESSIONS
"Claire, what are you doing here?"
Claire had stopped her car in front of a private entrance when she had spotted her sister walking away from the bus stop.
"It's impossible to stay with godmother and dad dancing cheek to cheek and all the crazy family. I need air. Wanna a lift?"
"Sure thanks."
She hold the statue in her lap while clicking the seat belt.
"Where did our priest go? Aunt Phillyda saw how good looking our priest is and started babbling about her sister in law who married an Anglican one and what a waste of men our church is."
The pressure of fingers on the feminine curves of the statue made the knuckles white. A sigh. A sob.
"What's wrong? The marriage is done, Godmother is happy and won't stress us again, for a while I hope."
Thick silence you could walk over it.
"So what? Did the stupid bird cut your tongue?"
"Claire promise to keep it secret. Over mom's grave, promise!"
Claire nodded, what else could she do, seeing black make up dilued tears streaming over her sister's face, like a line traced by a little kid with insecure fingers.
"Me and him had sex last night."
"Him ..who?"
"Our priest. Shit! Don't stop so fast. Ouch, my poor neck."
"Sorry."
Claire found a 30 min parking space along the street and got out to put a coin into the machine; she had no courage to drive again soon, fearing to listen to what her sister was going to confess.
"You need a break from here and ..from him."
"I told you we parted amicably."
"You cannot see him again. It's too…"
At a loss for words, Claire made a quick mental refresh of the Oxford dictionary.
"Too impossible!" she blurted out at least. "And you don't want to see him, do you?"
"It hurts. He says it will pass, but for now it hurts like hell."
"Good, I know the right place. My Yoga teacher…"
"Do you Yoga?"
"There's so many things you ignore about me. My master goes once a year to a small resort in the Welsh moor, peaceful, calm, vegetarian cuisine, long walks, a swimming pool. Attending to meditation classes is not an obligation."
Claire replied to every attempt to undermine her idea: the coffee was already closed for the wedding weekend, a convenient bank holiday in the coming week and sally could manage the coffee for two days alone, so she could take the whole week off.
A quick call to the yoga teacher and another to the resort reserved a single room, the most isolate and quiet.
"I still don't know if it is a good idea, I want to be alone."
"It's not a Ibiza beach bar, you can have your privacy, you can also give a fake name."
"Names defines us."
"So, how do you want to be called there?"
"Magdalen."
"Ok Magdalen, let's go to your flat, pack a bag and tomorrow morning you new life will start."
"Sister Angela?"
The high pitched voice of the bishop's private secretary summoned into the office a tall nun, dressed in a well tailored blue suit, matching in style and elegance the one of her director.
Her face expressionless, her lips so thin to disappear in the hole of the mouth.
"Yes, father John."
"Our brother here needs a confession. Father Patrick?
"He's practicing with the choir for tomorrow concert, he doesn't want to be disturbed."
"Father William?"
"He's gone out to convert the sinners at the betting agency."
The secretary's face showed concern, he didn't want to confess himself, Sister Angela knew it well.
"There's the bishop, he was in the orchard tending to his roses. The flowers show is in two weeks."
"My son, you celebrated a wedding in a state of disgrace! Thank God the spouses were unaware or it could be considered null."
The bishop posed the garden scissor and the thick glove.
"So you ask forgiveness for your sins? Do you repent them?"
"I do."
There was nothing else to say to your bishop, he couldn't say how deep he felt connected with his beautiful atheist, not only for the sex but for the human presence she offered him.
"Did you sinned only once with her?"
"What do you mean? I've been with her a night only."
"You coupled only once?"
He shook his head.
"How many and how?"
"Why? I've told you I betrayed my chastity, what else do you want to know?"
"There's a different punishment depending on positions and repetitions. You know well, don't waste the seed."
The secretary took a few sheets and a pen to the bishop, who completed a list of prayers and lectures and passed it to the priest.
"Well, this punishment will do you goof, here is the list."
The secretary bowed his head close to the bishop's ear and whispered something.
The older men nodded and so the secretary spoke.
"Outside confession, there's the problem of your position as a priest. So father John is here, you think she'll suit you? Go to the press? We need to be extra careful, nowadays. It's better you go to one of our places to reflect for a little while."
The bishop added maximum discretion was important so he had to hide with everyone his destination and the reason behind it.
"And Pam, my helper in the parish? "
"Simply tell her you're going to your annual retire, as lots of priests do. We'll send a substitute for you there."
The priest appeared resigned.
"So when and where do I have to go?"
"Immediately, father John himself will drive you there, don't worry, he tells me it's a lovely place in Wales."