A/N: Hello, hello, friends! Who fancies a day at the beach? And what about some not so proper findings in Father John's office? ;) Hope you all enjoy this chapter and another set of adventures. It's never boring at The Virgin Blessed Orphanage, and we hope you find it so :D Let us know with a review what you think and what you suspect it will happen next! We love to read your speculations, it's so much fun!

We wish you all have a great weekend xXx

~ Terrie & Handy ~

Disclaimer: Same as chapter 1-7.


Blessed ~ Chapter 8

x

Every now and then

give your soul a break

by walking barefoot

in the sand.

x

Revolving, spinning, in a dance meant to last a lifetime. They moved rhythmically to the slow tune, the music a mere echo in the distance. Their bodies grew closer, the energy so intense; his hands became possessive, and hers melted with his warmth. It was one of those never-ending moments, where every boundary seemed to shatter. They were alone in the middle of a crowded room...in a world of their own.

Her eyes were gentle, and lovingly, his were fiery and bold, focusing on the curve of her smile. He wanted to kiss her so badly, and according to his will, he pulled her to him, leaning down, closer and closer still…

She tasted sweet, sweeter than he had ever imagined. He longed to savour her for the rest of his life. If only...

And then, he fell, and with a startle, he woke up. Sweat was dripping down his brow and chest, his breathing erratic and wild, his fists grabbing at the sheets with great force.

Not again.

But yes. It had happened again, as it had so many times in the past week. A dream that taunted him, a dream that made his forbidden longing for her almost unbearable.

John looked at the illuminated dial of his clock. 4:45 a.m. He needed air.

Not thirty minutes later he found himself wandering outside, in the still darkness of a morning yet to come. When he reached the cliff, overlooking the sea, he dropped to his knees. He prayed then, he begged for forgiveness, for clarity, and for guidance...he implored God for a sign.

His sign would come. In the distance, he heard her calling his name. And then, the light of a new day began to rise on the horizon, as bright as he had ever seen.

x

'Father?' Anna walked to him, carrying a basket of fresh country flowers. The early morning brought the scent of the sea breeze, filling their lungs with the salty air. Nature was damp, foggy, and the birds had just begun to sing. 'Are you okay?'

He nodded, rising to his feet, his knees wet from kneeling so long. When he faced her, she was frowning worriedly, questioningly. 'I...I couldn't sleep. I thought a walk would do me good. I guess I lost track of time.'

She nodded. 'I see. I couldn't sleep past six either. I thought picking flowers for the chapel would do more for me than tossing and turning in bed until breakfast.'

'It seems like we both have the same troubles,' he told her softly.

'Do we?'

'I mean, with sleeping,' John replied, looking down at his feet.

'Oh! Yes...it seems.'

He had been right. It was a dream, much like his own, that had shaken her from sleep. Seeing him here, now, had been a very strange coincidence, one Anna was afraid to question, to think through to its conclusion. When she'd seen him in the distance she had wondered if she was dreaming again...but it was too real, and her feelings had been mixed. In dreams, she was always sure. Sleeping she never questioned their...passion.

'Have you eaten? Had your coffee?' she asked, trying to shut away her thoughts. Normality had always been the best cure for an awkward situation.

'Not yet. I...not yet,' he said, running his hand through his hair, his eyes on everything but her. Not for long, though. Never for too long.

'Let's go then, I'm getting hungry,' she suggested. 'Aren't you?'

'Yes, I think I am.' John faced her again, and her soft features made him smile. 'And we can pick more flowers on our way back. I'll help you,' he offered, easiness returning. It was her, in her lavender dress and matching cardigan. Her neatly done side braid and rosy cheeks. The light of the newborn day reflecting the radiance of her ocean eyes, and of her beautiful, kind soul.

'Perfect. If you ever need to pick flowers by yourself you'll know then,' she said as they walked back together, side by side.

'I wouldn't dream of taking that job from you…' He chuckled, watching as she would lean over with almost every step, only to add another flower to her basket. Lavender, daisies, poppies, cornflowers, anything that was colourful. 'You're the best bouquet maker ever. I'm only worthy to help.'

'Then help!'

He laughed and joined her. His anxious thoughts of the past few hours receded. It was only his Anna he saw now. Yes, he admitted, in his heart, she was his Anna. Her delicate hands touching petals and caressing stems. Her smile whenever she found the perfect one. Her shyness when he reached for a white daisy and stuck it into her braid, telling her that white suited her; it contrasted with her yellow hair. It matched her spirit, her kindness and integrity, but that he wouldn't tell her just yet. But, he decided then, if there were a flower that was Anna Smith, it would be the Myrtle. Delicate. Small. Star like shape. Sweet perfume. True love.

xxx

'I think I might try to find a new bathing. What do you think, Jane?'

'I think you just bought one on sale at the end of last Summer. A lovely two-pieced one with ruffles on the bum. Did you forget about that?'

Anna sighed, 'No, I remember, but that one's a bit revealing, and well, we'll have teenage boys with us. I just don't know.'

'To say nothing of the one very...er...virile, scantily-clad man we'll have in our midst,' Jane offered.

That comment caused Sister Josephine to choke on her tea.

'Here now!' cried Mrs Patmore, patting Sister on the back.

Anna shook her head at her friend. 'Jane stop that talk, right now. It's disrespectful, and you know it. He probably doesn't even have swim trunks.' She handed her napkin to the red-faced young nun. 'Here, love. She only says those things to get a reaction out of people. She should be ashamed of herself.'

'Come on, Anna. Don't deny that you've had the same thoughts,' Jane challenged.

'Jane Moorsum, you take that back, I have not!' Anna replied, but truth be told she had, and couldn't help covering her pink cheeks at the thought of the priest in beach attire.

'Oh my!' It all just dawned on Ivy. 'Now you've got me thinking about it.'

The room exploded in nervous giggles.

Moments later, when Father John pushed open the door, it sounded like he had walked in on a hen party. 'Hello, ladies. Do you mind if I join you for tea?'

'Ah, Father! Sit right down. You're just the man to join us,' said Jane. 'Anna and I were talking about taking the bus to Scarborough first thing in the morning to try and find something for the children to wear to the beach. It won't be an easy task, but we thought we'd have better luck in a resort town. So what will you be wearing, Father?'

Sister began choking again. 'Steady on, Sister,' Mrs P said.

'I'm not sure. To be honest, I never even thought about that, Jane. I suppose I should, though,' he said with a frown. 'I'll think of something.'

'Of course, you will, Father,' replied the cook, handing him his tea. 'Now, did you hear the bad news? Mr Rivers just left for the train station to pick up the old crow, more's the pity.'

Everyone knew who she was talking about. A round of groans followed.

x

'Anna, wait up.' John called after her as she left the kitchen. When she stopped, he guided her down the hall, out of earshot from anyone else. 'I need to ask a favour of you.'

'Of course, Father. What is it? You know I'll do anything.' The warmth of his hand on her shoulder was playing havoc with her hormones.

'This is a personal request, Anna, and I realise what I'm going to ask is presumptuous.' He swallowed hard. 'I need to ask you, as a friend, if you could try to find some bathing trunks for me while you're in Scarborough?' There, he said it.

'I...I guess I can do that, but why don't you just come with us? You'd be most welcomed. It'd be fun. You know best what you want.' In fact, his request did make her feel a tad uncomfortable. Jane would have a field day with this.

'It would, but the problem is, I have a meeting scheduled with the new priest in the village, Father William. He's just starting out and the Bishop asked me to drop in on him and see how he's doing. So that's out, but I really will understand if you don't want to. If it feels too awkward.'

'No, it's perfectly fine, Father. I'll find you something nice...and Jane is really good at -,''

'No, not Jane! I'm sorry. I think I'd feel better having you pick it out, if you don't mind.'

'Right, I understand completely,' Anna nodded.

'Great, just not something too...' He was at a loss for words.

'Revealing?' Anna took pity on him.

He looked relieved; she understood. 'Exactly. And stop by the office when you get a minute. I'll give you money for all of this.' He gave her shoulder a squeeze. 'I knew I could count on you.'

'Always.'

'Yes, always, Anna.'

xxx

The had week passed so quickly, too quickly and before they knew it Mr Rivers was delivering Sister Madeleine, bag and baggage at the front door. Sadly, her time away had not helped her mood, as Father John had hoped for. He could tell that much from his office window, by the way she stood waiting for Rivers to take her luggage out of the truck, her stance an annoyed one with her arms crossed around her middle. So much for the curative powers of the Retreat.

Not two minutes ago, Anna had left the office with the money for the beach supplies she would buy tomorrow and now, there was someone else at the door.

'Um, Father?' It was Teddy who called for him. 'Mrs P's calling for dinner. Sister Madeleine has arrived.'

'I see that, Teddy, thank you.' He smiled watching the scene outside. The old nun was gesturing and Rivers pretended not to hear a word she was saying.

'Father?'

'Yes, Teddy?'

'Do you like being a priest?'

The question took him by surprise and he turned to face the boy at once. 'I do…' he replied. 'Why do you ask?'

'Because…' Teddy sighed, walking in with his eyes on his nervous hands. 'Well, I want to be a priest too. I just want to be sure it's not too boring. They all say it is.'

Father John chuckled at the boy's worry. 'Oh they do, do they? Well, they are wrong. It's not boring at all, Ted,' he said, walking to the boy and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 'Life is only boring if you make it so, no matter what path you choose.''

'They say that…' The boy looked back, making sure no one could hear them, his ears and his cheeks felt hot. Father knew what was to come. 'A life without girlfriends isn't worth it.'

'Well, it's not if that's how you feel. You have to think well about it. Do you think you would like to spend your life without, well, without a girlfriend?' Father questioned. 'Do you think God is worth such a sacrifice? That your love for God is stronger than anything?'

'Yeah…I guess,' the boy's lips thinned in deep thought.

'You'll have time to think about it. Don't worry. But don't forget, being a priest shouldn't be a hard task. It should come from a higher calling, you need to be sure that that's what you want to do for the rest of your life. It shouldn't be difficult, and it won't, if that's what your heart tells you.'

Father smiled down at Teddy, squeezing his shoulder gently, supportively.

'Thank you, Father. If I'm ever a priest I want to be just like you. Everyone's going to like me and think I'm fun.' The boy replied with a big grin before wrapping his arms around Father's waist.

'Oh!' John laughed, answering the hug. 'I'm glad you think that, son. Now go, we'll talk again. Mrs P doesn't like when we're late for meals, and now that Sister Madeleine is here…'

The boy nodded and left running. John watched him go. His advice had been right, Terence had taught him that a long time ago. The problem was, it hadn't been like that for him. It hadn't been and it would never be.

With a sad sigh, John walked out of his office. Perhaps all his doubts had begun then...when he decided to be a priest to escape.

xxx

'I had forgotten how noisy this place is,' Sister Madeleine complained as she sat at the dining table. The prayers had just been said, and everyone had begun to eat. 'My poor ears.'

'We missed you too, Sister,' Mrs Patmore teased. 'So much so I made your favourite dish because I knew you would be here.'

'You know I don't like fish,' the nun turned up her nose. 'Especially cod.'

'Is that a fact? So I've been wrong all these years?' the cook giggled.

'It is one of my favourites though,' Father John intervened with a smile. 'I could eat cod all day, every day.'

'Eat up then, Father!' Mrs Patmore did love a man with a healthy appetite.

'And by the way, Sister Madeleine, welcome back to our table.' Father spoke in a cheery voice. 'Did you have fun at your Retreat?'

'I didn't go for fun,' the nun replied shortly, as she cut up her boiled potatoes. The only thing she would probably be eating.

'Of course. Did you enjoy it then?' the priest insisted.

'As much as possible. It was silent and calm. A taste of Heaven.'

'Well, yes, I suppose it was,' he said, heaping a mound of butter on his own potatoes. 'Much different than here - an orphanage, filled with children.'

'Exactly.' Sister Madeleine glared at the entire room.

He shared a look with the cook, before finding Anna's eyes on him at the next table. She was smiling, and he answered back in the same way. They were like this whenever he sat away from her, shared smiles and winks, almost as if speaking with their eyes. It was odd, to feel so comfortable with someone, to feel so connected, so at ease. Odd because he didn't know it was happening, it was instinct and it was strong. It didn't give him the time to think about how dangerous all these gestures could be, what they were becoming, what they already were.

'...and then, I have to put in the order for the weenies for beach day.' Mrs Patmore's voice came to his ears in an echo, and he realised then Anna wasn't looking anymore. It was him, watching her as she ate and chatted with her pupils.

'Wait! You're not really going to the beach are you?' Sister Madeleine asked in a shocked tone and that made him shake away his thoughts to answer her.

'We had that settled before you left, Sister.'

'I thought you would come to your senses, Father.' The nun rolled her eyes.

'I would, if it was a bad idea.'

'It'll be fun, Sister Madeleine,' Sister Anne spoke, trying to encourage her superior. 'And the children are so excited about it.'

'Of course they are! They like nothing more than to run wild,' Sister Madeleine admonished.

'They won't run wild, not for one second,' the priest assured, looking over at the nun.

'I'm sure you'll be the one running after them then.'

'I won't have to, Sister. They know how to behave,' he told her in a serious voice, not at all appreciating her mocking tone.

'I just hope nothing too bad happens, because -,'

'Nothing bad will happen, Sister. Only good things will and it will be a wonderful day at the beach for all of us going. A memorable day. And you are invited to come, if you want.'

'I most certainly will not,' the nun scoffed, crossing her arms.

'You'll be the one missing out then,' Father John said,finishing off his cod and reaching for another piece. 'You and Mrs P and Ivy.'

'But I'll go the next time,' Ivy chimed in.

'You will, Ivy. And I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun too.' He gave the young woman a gentle smile. 'Now, let's all eat in peace. Shall we? Good.'

xxx

'Where did you get to? I've been looking all over this store,' Jane pounced as soon as she spotted Anna. Scattergood's, the biggest store in Scarborough, was known for having the best in beachwear. 'Say, did you just come out of the men's department?'

'Uh, maybe. I was just looking around.' The last thing Anna wanted was for Jane to know she was on a special errand for Father John. She'd never let it rest.

'Just looking, huh? What's in the bag?'

'Nothing that would interest you. I only picked up something for my Uncle Peter for his seventieth birthday,' Anna held the bag closer to her chest.

'You're a terrible liar, sweetie. Now let me see,' Jane insisted, holding her hand out.

Anna relented because she knew her friend would nag her to death if she didn't. 'There, see? It's for Uncle Peter.'

Jane pulled out a pair of men's white bathing shorts followed by a navy blue and white striped cabana shirt with white trim. 'My, my, Uncle Peter is quite the sporty dresser for a man of seventy, isn't he? What gives, love?'

'Oh, all right. If you must know, Father John asked me to pick something up for him to wear to the beach. He was shy about it and didn't want anyone else to know. So don't you let on that I told you.'

'You hardly told me, I had to drag it out of you. I could have helped you pick something out, you know, something a bit...zippier, befitting a man of his, uh, stature.' Jane didn't like being left out of the loop. 'I do have one question, though - how did you determine the size, hm?'

'I...I took a guess, okay? And zippier is exactly what he didn't want. That's why he asked me, Jane,' Anna explained. 'I'm hungry, are you? Let's go find something to eat as soon as we pick up the rest of our packages. I hope they have them all wrapped by now. We can catch an earlier bus back to Whitby.'

'Sounds like a good idea. I'm excited for the older children to see their bathing suits and the younger ones should like their shorts and halter tops for the girls. I wish we could have afforded suits for everyone, but their time will come,' Jane said with a smile.

Minutes later, surrounded by their packages, they sat enjoying tea at an outdoor cafe. 'Gosh, I hope Father John likes his bathing suit,' Anna said as she looked out over the sea, her chin resting in her hand. 'I'd hate to let him down.'

'Yeah,' replied Jane with a dreamy sigh. 'I'm sure he'll approve. I guarantee we will.'

x

As soon as Anna and Jane returned from their Scarborough shopping trip, Anna sought out Father John. She was anxious to see his reaction to the purchase she'd made for him, but she found his office door shut; a rare occurrence. She knocked softly. No answer. She and Jane had returned early, maybe he was still in the village meeting with the new priest. Anna poked her head in the office and not seeing anyone, quickly placed the bag containing the swim suit on the desk.

'Anna, you're back already?'

She turned toward the direction of his voice to see him standing in the bathroom doorway. He had on his trousers, but was bare-chested and bare-footed and held a straight razor in one hand. He looked very surprised to see her as he quickly grabbed his shirt from a hook on the door and slipped his arms into the sleeves.

For a moment Anna just stood there staring at him, her mouth hanging open. 'Oh...oh golly, I'm so sorry, Father. I knocked... I looked in and didn't think you were here.' Then she pointed to his desk, 'So I...I put your bathing suit on the desk. I'll just leave now...' she said, making a fast beeline for the door.

'No, wait, please, I'll only be a minute,' he said, trying to overcome his embarrassment. 'I was in a rush this morning and never got around to showering or shaving, and I wanted to take time before dinner.' He splashed water on his face and towelled it off before exiting the tiny bathroom. 'There, fit for human consumption again,' he smiled, buttoning his shirt.

'Well, almost. Come here.' And before she even realised what she was doing, Anna reached up and wiped a missed bit of shaving cream from his ear. She froze then, fearing she had been too bold but apparently not, for he just smiled at her sweetly.

'Now, let's see what we have here,' Father said, walking over to the desk and picking up the bag.

'I hope it's okay. And I hope it fits. I had to guess on the size,' Anna told him, her cheeks colouring brightly.

He couldn't meet her eyes as he reached into the bag and pulled the white shorts out first, holding them up in front of him. 'Oh yes, I think they'll be just fine. And what's this? A shirt too?'

'It's called a cabana jacket. I thought it would look nice and make you feel more comfortable, you know?'

'I do. And thank you, Anna. I could never have asked this of anyone else.'

Anna was suddenly filled with guilt. Oh, why did I have to be so weak and tell Jane? Before she could give it another thought the dinner bell rang.

'Ah, just let me finish getting dressed and I'll walk with you to the dining hall. Will you wait for me?'

'Of course, Father.' And she waited as he entered his bedroom.

xxx

Anna and Father John had spent the better part of the day inventorying the furnishings, paintings and trinkets the previous director had left behind. It was taking longer than John would have liked, in fact, he had hoped to get it done during Sister Madeleine's absence. That hadn't been accomplished, unfortunately. She wasn't at all happy with the sell-off of her precious Fr Benedict's belongings but what could she do? They weren't his, were they? The Bishop had sanctioned the sale, and she dare not go against the Bishop.

'Hmm…I think I have the descriptions, if not the names of the paintings and the artists now. There are eight from the office and the main lobby?'

'I have one other one in my room, The Tears of St. Peter, but it's just a copy, although a very good one. I doubt it's worth much...I might keep it.'

'Of course,' she smiled. 'We don't have to get rid of everything. I bet these eight alone will be enough to buy that bus.'

'Hello, what do we have here?' John said from his perch high on a ladder. He was investigating the very top shelf of a floor to ceiling display case.

'What?'

John handed down a small ornate carved chest for her to take and climbed down. Anna placed it on the desk, and they stared at it. 'This could be something really good,' she said running her hand over the top, 'but it's locked. You didn't see a key?' She looked up at him hopefully.

With a cheeky grin, he held up a tiny silver key between his fingers, 'You mean like this one?'

'Yes! Open it! Oh, this is so exciting!' Anna could hardly keep herself from jumping up and down.

John took the key and placed it in the hole and turned it. It fit! He slowly lifted the lid. Inside, on a bed of red satin, were twelve hand carved miniature ivory netsukes, of the erotic variety, very, very erotic. John gulped, 'Oh my…' and he looked up at Anna to gauge her reaction.

She picked one up. It was an intricately carved ivory penis and testicles, with a man and woman copulating around the base. It was no larger than Anna's thumb. She gasped when she realised what she was looking at. 'Are they...Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?' she asked, breathlessly.

'You are, and I could be wrong, but I have a feeling we might have hit the jackpot with this little stash.'

'You think? Have you ever seen anything like this before?' Anna asked.

'Uh, once. In a museum,' he was quick to add. 'I'll call Terence tonight and have him ask around about these. Anna, I don't want to get our hopes up, but we just might be sitting on a small treasure trove. Father Benedict was quite the eclectic collector.'

'And we still have his suite to go through. Oh my goodness, John!'

'Alright, let's not get too excited and definitely don't say anything yet. These might just be cheap imitations, and maybe there's nothing more, but I think Father Benedict had very exotic and expensive tastes.'

'I think you're right, let's just take a breath and continue with our inventory,' Anna said.

'Good idea. I'll lock it up again and put it back on the top shelf we wouldn't want any of the sisters or the children laying eyes on this.'

That done, Anna attempted to resume normal conversation. It wasn't every day she found herself viewing erotic art with her priest. 'So, you never told me about your meeting…'

'Hmm?'

'With the new priest.'

'Father William?' he asked, finding a collection of cut glass nesting boxes on another shelf.

'Is there any other new priest in town?' Anna giggled. 'How was it? Is he nice?'

'He seems to be a good lad. Kind hearted, grounded.'

'A good lad? He can't be that young, can he? If he's a priest already and has his own church. I really don't know how long it takes but...'

'Well, he's a lad to me. He's closer to your age than mine,' John chuckled.

'As if you're old.' Anna shook her head with a smile, rising from the chair and taking the boxes he was handing down to her. 'I wonder if these are special?'

'I don't know, and I am older.'

'Older doesn't mean old,' she told him shortly, and he knew better than to argue about it. But then, it was good she thought like that...not that it would make any difference really, but it was good anyway.

At that very moment, they heard the sound of footsteps in the hall, coming closer and closer to the office, and immediately they recognised to whom they belonged. Both faced each other knowingly, trying hard to suppress a laugh at their own reaction.

'Father - Oh! Miss Smith? What are you doing here?' The nun grimaced as soon as she saw Anna.

'Sister.' The young teacher nodded. 'I'm helping Father with the inventory.'

'Of course, you are,' Sr Madeleine sneered, her voice practically dripping with venom. She found herself developing a distaste for the teacher. She now regretted not dismissing her long ago.

'What can we help you with, Sister?' Father John asked, coming down the ladder and facing the woman.

'Well, I came to help you, but I see I'm not needed here,' she replied, eyeing a rich tapestry, which was rolled up and laying on the desk. She couldn't help but run her fingertips over it reverently. 'Father loved this one so,' she said with a melancholy sigh. 'I remember the day it arrived. He sat in his desk chair for hours on end admiring it. 'It's just not right.'

John smiled understandingly; he wasn't without pity. Even so, he was compelled to respond, saying, 'This one tapestry, if it's value is as high as we suspect, will go a long way toward providing for the orphanage, Sister. That alone should lighten your heart.'

Sister Madeleine glared at the priest, turning on her heels, exiting the room.

After she had left, John stood there for a moment in deep thought. 'You know, I think we might see what that painting in my room is worth, after all. At one time it spoke to me, but maybe I don't need it anymore.'

x

Not long after leaving the director's office, Sister Madeleine walked into the kitchen, to the usual hustle and bustle of pots, pans and chatter.

'Must this kitchen always be so noisy?' the nun complained as she sat down at the table. 'Ivy, serve me some tea.'

'Must you always be so doom and gloom?' The cook eyed her disparagingly. 'And it's not noisy; it's called friendly and fun.'

'Father John told you that once and now you can't stop bragging about it ever since.' Ivy giggled as she placed a mug of tea before the madre superior.

'That sounds like something he'd say,' Sister Madeleine disdained. 'Who else would sound so idiotic?'

'Ivy, go into the garden and pinch off some herbs. I need to talk to Sister.'

Ivy scowled because she didn't like to miss anything, but did as she was told.

'Now, come on, tell me. Why the bad mood? Not that it's ever any good but…' Mrs Patmore asked, sitting down at the table and allowing herself to rest her feet for a few minutes. Sister Madeleine was as near to an arch enemy of anyone she knew, but she'd known her forever, and that counted for something.

'I just don't like them touching what belongs to Father Benedict. Miss Smith is there too.'

'He trusts her. I mean, who doesn't? Our Anna is the kindest most trustful soul around, and they're good friends. Just you like and Father Benedict were, who, as it happens used orphanage funds to buy all those extravagant things. So no, none of it belongs to him.'

"Who told you that? How do you know?' Sister was ready to deny it all.

'Father told me. He told the other nuns too. I guess he didn't want us to think he was selling it all off on his own when the Bishop told him to. You knew this. I just don't understand how you condoned it all those years. You had to have known what he was doing, and you claim this place is so precious to you - if it had been anyone else squandering that money you would have been running around pulling your hair out. Why? Why did you cover for the old fool?'

'Don't you dare say that! Don't sully his name. Father Benedict was a saint; you just didn't know him like I did.'

'As if! He was a drunk who couldn't make it down to his office on most days and when he did he never left. He made us all his personal slaves, and the children only ever saw him at his wretched Sunday mass.' Mrs Patmore laughed ironically.

'He knew the word of God and followed it,' Sister Madeleine persisted.

The cook shook her head. 'Must I have to say it again? He was a drunken, lazy man who misused the institution's finances. Now we know. How is that following the word of God?'

'He had troubles in his life; we shouldn't judge,' the nun said sharply, the tea before her turning cold.

'If that's how you feel, then, you should live by it more often.'

'Why do I waste my time talking to you?' The nun rose from her chair. 'Where's Sister Josephine?'

'She's helping Sister Rose with the little ones,' Mrs Patmore answered.

'Her place is here, not with the toddlers.'

'Who says so? Father John told her she could spend more time there if she wished and if I didn't need her. Sister Josephine loves the little ones.'

'Father John, Father John…I get so sick of that man's name. Can he do no wrong?' Sister Madeleine left in a mindless rage, the kitchen door swinging wildly on its hinges.

xxx

'I'm glad she didn't understand what was going on. Bless her.' Sister Rose sighed as she looked out of the kitchen window. The cook and her helpers nodding their heads in agreement. It was a disappointing day for them.

The couple who had been interested in Rosie had just informed Father John that they had found a newborn to adopt, in another institution. Rosie was a bit too old for their liking. But Rosie was only two.

'It's unfair if you think about it. I mean, I understand people prefer babies but what about the other ones? They have the same right.' Mrs Patmore said, her voice becoming agitated.

'And poor Rosie, she's such a doll,' Ivy remarked. 'She's the sweetest babe I've ever met.'

'Not as sweet as a newborn, apparently,' Sister Josephine added twisting her nose.

The four women continued to watch the scene outside.

Upon receiving the news, Father John immediately felt the need to see Rosie. It was the beach day, but they weren't leaving until later and right now he was sitting on the grass with the two-year-old, giving her the attention he felt she deserved in a moment like this, even though she had no inkling what had happened. He loved Rosie, and as time went by he loved her more and more.

'Bee!' the little girl shouted with a giggle, as she pointed out a tiny bee that had landed on a daisy.

'It's a bee, yes, very good,' John clapped, smiling.

'Bad, bad bee,' Rosie scolded with a frown.

'Bad? No, no, not bad, Peanut. See, she's working hard.'

'It hurts.' The girl pouted, trying to make him see her point.

'Well, if you mess with her, yes,' John explained. 'She doesn't like when people interrupt her hard work. Look, see her kissing the flowers? She's gathering the flower's juice so she can feed the other bees.'

'Wosie likes flowers. Faver too. Lilies! Wosie and Faver like lilies.'

'We certainly do, my sweet child.' He chuckled, pulling the girl onto his lap. 'Come here, why don't you give me a kiss?'

Rosie did as she was asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a loud one on his cheek, before sitting down between his legs and leaning back against him.

'You're precious, Peanut. So precious,' John told her in a low, tender voice, placing a kiss on her yellow hair, and instinctively reaching to straighten her skirt over her chubby knees. 'They're the ones missing out. I shouldn't be happy for this, but I am. I am.'

'Wosie's happy,' the girl spoke, looking up at him with a cheeky grin.

'Are you?'

'Yeah…' she nodded, one of her hands coming up to pat his chin. 'With Faver.'

Her words made him teary, and he closed his eyes to avoid becoming a crying fool. He heard voices then, and the sound of steps approaching, and when he opened his eyes, he saw another of his favourite smiles. Anna Smith was walking toward them, their new nine-month-old in her arms and two toddlers and a four-year-old Liam following behind.

'Hello there.'

'Oh, look, Peanut. Look who's coming out to play with us.' John gestured, and Rosie clapped her hands in excitement.

'I've brought them outside for a bit, while Sister Rose is having cup of tea in the kitchen.' Anna said, placing the baby boy on the grass while the other three joined Rosie around the priest right away.

'Sit down.' He tapped the ground beside him. 'Are you looking forward to going to the beach today?'

'Yes, I really am.' Anna watched his interaction with the little ones for a moment. 'You're a natural with children. It's lovely to see.'

'As are you, Anna.'

'They don't fight over my lap, though.' Anna laughed when the toddlers began to crawl on him while Rosie tried her best to let them know Father was hers first.

'Well, you can all share me, all right? No fighting over me,' John told the children, finding their reactions too funny.

'Wosie here first.'

'Rosie is a good girl and good girls share, don't they?' he pointed out.

Rosie nodded, unsure about that.

'Why don't you sit with me, darling? Don't you like Anna too?'

'Yes.' The little girl giggled, crawling onto the teacher's lap. 'Wosie likes Anna too.'

xxx

It was decided it would be best to eat lunch before going to the beach that day. And now Anna, Father John and Mrs Patmore were standing in the kitchen, packing weenies and condiments on top of a bag of ice and stowing them into a round Scotch cool.

Anna grabbed packages of buns and marshmallows and put them into a basket. 'Do these lemon bars go too, Mrs P?'

'That they do.'

'I was hoping you'd say that,' said the priest, popping a second one into his mouth.

'But pack 'em the up quick, Anna, before this one eats them all.' The cook whacked the priest on his shoulder with her dish towel.

'Hey now!' Father John yelled, untangling the towel from around his neck. 'Don't make me pull rank on you!' he said with a good-natured chuckle. 'I think we're ready, aren't we?'

'Not so fast. Don't forget these jugs of iced water.'

'Right. Now you're sure you don't want to come too, Mrs P?' Father John said jokingly.

'Are you daft? Do you have any idea what salt water would do to my hair? It's bad enough having to put up with this salt breeze. Now go on with you and have a grand day. And mind those children well or there'll be hell to pay,' she warned.

John couldn't help himself; he grabbed the cook in a bear hug, 'Thanks for all your help,' he said, surprising her with a kiss on top her curly red head.

'Well, you're certainly in high spirits. I reckon it's that festive striped bathing shirt you wearing.'

'I reckon you're right, Mrs P,' John glanced over at Anna. 'They do say clothes make the man,' he laughed. 'Miss Smith, let's grab our wagon and round up our crew.'

'I don't think you'll have much rounding up to do.' Mrs Patmore tapped him on the shoulder, pointing through the window toward the garden gate.

Jane, and three of the sisters, Josephine, Anne and Louise were lined up and waiting along with nineteen children of varying ages, outside the gate. Names had been drawn and only a portion of the children were going today, the rest would get their turn the following week.

The wagon was loaded with Father John's guitar, wrapped in a blanket to keep the sand out, food, drink, blankets and a couple of tin pails and shovels. The pair left by the kitchen door, to the cheers of the children.

'Are we ready, everyone?'

'You bet, Father!' hollered Philip.

'WooHoo!' shouted Teddy, 'Let's go!'

'James, I'm going to entrust you with this wagon. It has our food and everything we'll need to survive our day in the wild. My guitar's in there too, so be careful. Are you up for it?' Father asked.

James nodded, 'Yes, sir.'

"Then onward! To the beach!'

And they were off.

The three older boys were up front and leading the way, all dressed in their matching red trunks. Each had a towel slung over their shoulder. They were followed by Jeremy, walking alone, a bit behind the older lads and ahead of the group of six mid-grade boys, each in their new blue trunks. Jacob, Lucas, Noah, Caleb, Ben and Andrew.

Then came the mid-grade girls in their new shorts and halter tops, Alice, Marie and Colette, Charlotte, Ella and Nora. The teen girls, Brenda, Cynthia and Pamela, brought up the last of the children, in their brand new bathing suits.

Jane and Anna followed behind the girls. Jane nudged her friend with her shoulder. 'Would you just look at their cute ruffled bums. I'm so glad we were able to at least get them new suits. I know some might think fashion is silly, but these girls need something normal in their lives. They need to be taught how to be women.'

'You know I couldn't agree more, Janie. Good, strong women. And I think we've done a terrific job with the girls. I mean just look at our Brenda - off to nursing school in a few weeks. Leaving the nest. I'm so proud of her.'

Jane nodded her head with a sniff. 'Yeah, me too.'

'And now the boys have the father figure they deserve. Thank God Father John came to us when he did,' Anna continued.

Anna felt a hand on her shoulder then. 'Did I hear my name being bandied about?'

'Oh Father, hardly bandied,' said Anna, as he moved between her and Jane, linking his arms warmly with theirs.

'Praised, more like, and don't let that go to your head,' warned Jane. 'By the way, that is one snazzy cabana shirt you have on there, Father.'

'Why, thank you, Jane,' he winked at Anna. 'So I've been told.'

The three walked on, in friendly camaraderie.

Sister Mary Josephine, Sister Mary Anne, and Sister Mary Louise brought up the very rear of the line, happily singing In the Good Old Summertime. It was indeed going to be a beautiful day.

x

As soon as they hit the beach, James dropped his wagon and headed into the water with Philip and Teddy close on his heels.

'Hold it right there lads! Get back here, now. We have rules to follow,' Father John shouted at them.

'Aw, c'mon, Father...' they moaned, but reluctantly they did as they were told.

'Okay, these are the rules, and they will be obeyed. Rule number one! Every one of you needs to choose a buddy. Preferably an older boy with a younger boy and a younger girl with an older girl. You don't have to stick to them like glue, but whenever Sister Anne blows this whistle,' which he held it in the air before giving it to her. 'Blow it, Sister.'

She did with gusto, causing everyone to wince and little Alice to whimper and hide her head in Anna's side.

'Wherever she blows it, I want you all to find your buddy and raise your hands when you do. Understand? Of course, we will all be watching too. Now let's pick a buddy. James, you first.'

James looked down the line at the gathering of children, thinking to himself, who will be the least bother. His eyes landed on Lucas, a bookworm whom James figured would sit on a towel reading all day.

And on it went one after another. Last to choose was a sullen Jeremy and the only other child without a buddy was shy Alice. A perfect match. Jeremy rolled his eyes, and Alice wrapped her arms around Anna's waist.

Father was satisfied. 'Rule number two! No one, under any circumstances, leaves the area, and no one goes into the water alone. Now go have fun!'

James, Philip and Teddy headed back to the water, with a 'Whoop!'

Lucas, who was ten, as predicted, pulled a book from his waistband and sat down on the sand. Anna nudged Alice over to where Jeremy was sitting like a bump on a log on a piece of driftwood. 'Stay here with your buddy, Jeremy, while we spread the blankets and unpack our stuff,' Anna told her, turning back to John and Jane and the nuns.

Jane had already removed her beach cover-up and sandals and was laying a blanket close to the water's edge so she could keep an eye on the swimmers. And the three nuns were busy around the wagon, passing out towels to everyone. Then they spread a blanket a short distance from Jane, to help watch over the children.

Anna spread her blanket in the middle of things, kicking off her sandals and removing the matching wrap-around skirt from her slender waist. She looked over to John, who was checking his guitar for any damage. 'Father, take your clothes off and come sit with me.'

John raised his eyebrows at her, causing her to hide her face in her hands. 'Oh, I can't believe I just said that! Sorry.'

He laughed nervously at seeing Anna - so much of Anna in her bathing suit. The sight warmed him in places he really hadn't counted on. 'That's fine, Miss Smith, I know what you meant.'

He sat down near her on her blanket and began unbuttoning his shirt and removing it, totally unaware of the effect it was having on her, then he reached down to untie his shoes. That's when she noticed it. He had a tattoo. Father John had a tattoo! A tiny arrow on his left bicep. Anna had never known anyone with a tattoo, least of all a priest. She was very close to asking him about it when Colette and Maria ran up.

"Father, go swimming with us,' they begged, pulling on his hands.

'You go play with your friends right now. I want to sit here with Miss Smith for awhile and rest my leg a bit. I'll be along later. Here, take a bucket and shovel and make a sand castle.' This seemed to satisfy the little girls, and they moved on.

John sighed. He was suddenly having second thoughts.

'Are you alright?' Anna said turning toward him. She laid a hand on his denim clad thigh. 'Is it your knee? Did you hurt it walking in the sand? That can't be easy,' she continued.

He was vividly aware that her hand was resting on his leg. 'It certainly isn't easy, at least not with a stick, but that's not it.'

'What then?'

'Anna, I fully intended to go swimming today, I really did. That's why I asked you to pick the trunks up for me, but now...'

Anna leant into him, making him look at her. 'But now? Are you being shy?'

He shrugged his shoulders, suddenly feeling the fool. 'It's just that...when was the last time anyone here has seen a priest in practically his altogether? Perhaps it's too much, too shocking.'

'Not to me it's not, but then I've seen you in nothing but your trousers, with shaving soap on your face,' Anna said with a snicker.

He nudged her with his bare arm. 'And you survived that with few scars, didn't you?'

'Shocking as it was, yes I did.'

'Shocking?' John considered this. 'At least you didn't say cringe worthy. I suppose that's encouraging,'

Was he fishing for a compliment?, Anna wondered. She watched him as he removed his shoes and socks and shook sand out of them.

Then standing and towering over her, he unzipped his jeans and let them drop to the ground. 'Well, let's get this over with, Miss Smith. Are you with me?'

Anna gulped. 'Absolutely! You can even hold my hand if you want,' she said with a wink.

x

'Look at him,' Sister Louise pointed out as Father John walked into the sea with Anna; a look of pure joy on their faces. 'Can you imagine Father Benedict doing that?'

'Heavens no! But I think it's nice and he's free to do what he wants; Father knows how to live life. He's a good man. Oh, sometimes I wish I had a bathing suit too,' Sister Anne replied, letting go of a longing sigh. 'I used to love the sea when I was a girl.'

'Sister Madeleine's head would explode if you ever bought one!' Sister Josephine giggled, covering her mouth with her hands. 'Goodness me! How very daring.'

'But he's not free, is he?'

'What?' asked Sr Anne.

'Father, he's not free, is he?' Jane answered, hovering on her elbows and pulling her sunglasses to the tip of her nose to see the pair in the distance. 'He's not really free…'

'Well, he's free enough to go for a swim in only his shorts, and I thought you fancied him, Miss Moorsum,' Sister Louise shot the teacher a look.

'Oh, I think he's ever so charming and a very fine figure of a man, and I do like them older. There's more experience in their book.'

'Oh Lord! Please stop, Jane. You shouldn't even think those things about a priest!' Sister Anne scolded trying to suppress a nervous giggle.

'Can't help myself, Sister. But I do! And that's why they invented the confessionary' Jane winked as she laid back on her towel.

'If only you used it…' Sister Louise countered, rolling her eyes. 'Aren't you going for a swim too?'

'Not just yet,' the teacher answered. 'I want to catch some sun first. Boys like 'em tanned.'

The nuns couldn't help but laugh at Jane's words. She was indeed a character.

x

By the sea, the younger children played together, building sand castles and wetting their feet in the shallow tidal pools; even Lucas had joined in, enjoying a few splashes of salt water. Still sitting on his piece of driftwood, Jeremy had a stick and was drawing pictures in the sand, much to Alice's delight.

Anna and John walked past the boys and girls, heading straight into the surf. The waves were a little wild, but nothing they couldn't handle.

'Oh damn!' Anna complained, realising immediately the wording she had chose. 'Oh, I mean...it's cold.'

'It is,' John chuckled at her embarrassment; why did people think priests didn't curse?He himself was blessed with a somewhat colourful vocabulary on occasion. 'Once we get used to it it'll feel good.'

'Oh, I know. It's been years since I last swam in the sea, which is ridiculous since we're so close to it,' she told him, taking a deep breath, filling her lungs with the salty air.

'Me too. Careful, the waves are a bit strong.'

'It doesn't take much to knock me over,' Anna giggled, looking at him.

'I'll save you, Miss Smith,' he said, offering his hand to her. Her eyes were the deepest blue he had ever seen. Her smile...her smile made him want to tell her everything his heart felt.

They had waded out until they were standing in water just above Anna's waist. She had just turned to look at him when it hit - a wave strong enough to knock her off her feet and straight into John's arms, her face planted in his chest. 'Oh my goodness!' She coughed and spat and sputtered, wiping salt water out of her eyes.

'Are you all right?' he asked with a grin as soon as he realised she was only drenched. 'I hope you were counting on getting your hair wet.'

'I was…' Anna giggled. 'Thanks to you I'm still alive.'

'I'm afraid I was the reason you didn't see the wave coming. I was distracting you.'

'You do a lot of that…' she admitted, resting her hand on his chest, but it didn't take her long to realise what she had just done.

'Do I?' he asked, their eyes locked, a gentle expression on his face. His breath hitched in his throat, and she felt it on her cheek, warm and comforting, loving. He longed to press her hand more firmly to him - it was wrong, and it was dangerous but he wasn't thinking, not in the way he should, not in the way he was taught to - but before he could reach for it, she drew it away.

'More than you know.' She took a deep breath after such confession, stepping back and returning to a more proper position; side by side. Quickly, they both looked back toward the shore, making sure the scene hadn't been witnessed; to their relief, everyone appeared too busy having their own fun to pay any attention to them.

They walked out deeper and lowered themselves into the water until only their heads and shoulders could be seen. To anyone looking at them they were just two friends, standing in the sea talking to each other, but under the surface, their hands were linked and unconsciously, one of Anna's legs entwined with his. It was innocent, but oh so perilous.

x

'Father John is such a tall man,' Cynthia noted, and her friends sighed as they sat by a tide pool wetting their feet in the warmer water.

'And he has such broad shoulders…' Brenda added. 'If Judy were here she would be dying!'

'She'll die next week when she comes,' Pam grinned.

'And you, Pam? Are you dying?' Cynthia giggled, elbowing her friend Brenda, who knew exactly what she meant.

'What?'

'Yeah! James has been staring at your ruffles all day,' Brenda laughed.

'Stop it! We all have ruffles,' Pam scolded, crossing her arms over her chest.

'Yeah, but he likes yours better,' Cynthia stated.

'His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw you.'

'I mean it Brenda, stop it! And you too, Cyn.' Pam shot the two a look. 'Just stop it.'

'Oh, come on,' Brenda leant her head on Pam's shoulder. 'You'll miss it when I'm not here.'

'Of course, I will, you silly girl,' Pam pouted, remembering that soon enough Brenda was leaving for nursing school.

'Aw, we'll all miss you,' Cynthia cried, wrapping her arms around her friend's shoulders. 'But you'll visit us, won't you?'

'As soon as I can, I promise. And I'll write too,' Brenda said, as she held her two friends close, looking out to the sea. To their future. 'And when you all leave here, we'll still be friends and spend some days together. Go the beach, meet for tea.'

'Go to each other's wedding,' Cynthia added.

'And to ours babies christenings,' Pam smiled.

'Yes! We'll be friends forever. Simply forever.'

x

'Look at them…' Anna sighed, as she took in the scene. She was now enjoying the sun on her skin. John was sitting beside her on his towel, the others a few meters away. 'It's always so sad when one of them moves on.'

'I'm sure it is,' he nodded, sharing a bit of her sadness.

'And next year we'll have three of them leaving.'

'I'll miss them,' John confessed. 'They're fun and spontaneous, even with the constant giggles and whispers.'

Anna laughed. 'That's only when you're around.'

'Hey!' It was Jane who called to them, taking off her glasses and losing her hair from the ponytail she had been wearing. 'Come swimming with me.'

Father and Anna shared a look before turning back to the brunette teacher.

'I'm going to enjoy the sun a little more and my hair's almost dry now,' she told her friend.

'Yes, and I'm getting a bit hungry' the priest said. 'I was thinking about starting the campfire and roasting some weenies.'

'That sounds good!' Anna clapped her hands together. Swimming always made her hungry.

'All right then,' Jane smiled, already loving the idea. 'You do all that while I get my yearly ocean bath and when I come back I'll have some good stuff to eat. You do know how to start a fire, don't you, Father,' Jane teased.

'Oh, ye of little faith!' he called back to her.

The teacher walked to the water's edge then; the breeze had died down, and as it did, it became warmer. Sisters Anne, Josephine and Louise were sitting on their blanket, sweat dripping down their backs.

'Well enough of this,' decided Sister Anne. 'I'm going swimming with Jane. Are you ladies coming?'

'Are you?' said Sister Josephine.

'First one in…' cried Sister Louise, already halfway to the water.

'Oh my! How very daring.' Jane winked as the four walked together. 'But then, I would be dead if I were you. Black dresses on the beach? Insane!'

Soon enough they were all enjoying the cold ocean. The teacher had dove straight in, swimming like a proper fish. The nuns, however, were happy holding up their skirts and wading. Splashing water at each other, without restraint or guilt. Sister Madeleine would have disapproved vehemently...but Sister Madeleine wasn't there.

xxx

If there is a downside to having so much fun it's that time passes so quickly. Before they knew it, the day was darkening around them. They all sat in a circle in the warm glow of the fire which Father John had built; a smell of roasted weenies lingering in the air. They ate eagerly, chatting, laughing, telling stories. If only life could always be so carefree.

'Let's sing a song!' Father shouted as he took his guitar and began plucking on the strings. He chose a popular American folk song, Michael Row the Boat Ashore. Father would call out the lines to the song, and everyone would repeat them, singing in unison. They were a family, they would always be, even after they had moved on they would never be forgotten. And nothing could shake their high spirits. At least not this night...

But if they could see beyond the light of the fire, they would see a darker soul. One who had been watching them all day. Watching and lurking in shadows, on their walks, behind trees and bushes, pacing in slow, quiet steps. Plotting, muttering hateful thoughts under his breath. The ember of his cigarette reflected in his eyes, giving away the fiery anger he felt. One hand running over his greasy hair, the other at his side, clenched in a fist.

'You won't be singing for long...God may have...other plans for you.'


Next Chapter: One small photograph, the meaning of everything, the beginning of it all.

Thank you so much for reading :)