"Right," Simone said decisively once she'd drained the last of her coffee."Here's where I put my neck on the line. The worst that can happen is that I get excommunicated."
Though she spoke in a light-hearted joking tone of voice, the sharp-eyed Annabelle didn't overlook the tremor of Simone's lips. The dark-haired woman knew by now just how tough her lover could be under her mild exterior but she also knew that she was highly vulnerable to censure by someone who she was once close to, especially someone who had supported and understood her for so Harris was her real father figure with everything that went with it.
"Do you want me to stay with you or go someplace else?" the younger woman asked gently.
"Give me the letter with your grades and stay with me," Simone said tersely."I need both. Come take my hand."
Annabelle obligingly extended her hand which was fiercely gripped while Simone clicked the saved number with her free hand, breathed in and out loudly while waiting for the call to be taken. She hurriedly stuffed the letter on the side without thinking.
"Is that Father Harris. It's Simone Bradley here," a very tremulous voice came down the phone.
The elderly, white-haired man reacted with a shock of surprise and a residue of relief, behind which a multiplicity of emotions whirled through his mind. He was been seated at his old mahogany desk for the words of a sermon which were stuck fast in the machinery of his mind. He'd felt conflicted and angry ever since the traumatic events of the dramatic arrest of his favourite one-time pupil over the seduction of that determined, headstrong wayward pupil who was in her senior year. He was torn apart by competing loyalties, between the Mother Immaculata's forceful and dominant conservatism, his own subtle defiance of old certainties, his abhorrence of the way that the Mother Immaculata colluded in the way that their quiet and insular world had been exposed to the modern vulgarities of tabloid journalism. He'd been shut out of the loop while powerful political forces had played Russian Roulette with the good name of the school. When he heard how no criminal proceedings were proceeded with, he angrily asked himself what the fuss was all about in the first place. His own desire to somehow square the circle and please everyone didn't help him at all.. He knew above all, as an insider that the Holy Roman Catholic Church was not the rigid, set in stone conservative organisation as outsiders saw it. This whole matter couldn't come at a worse time as normally the staff of St Theresa's would be a hive of activity. This was because the whole public showcase of the school was for the ceremony that would send off another class of Catholic emisseries into the wide world. All the preparations and arrangements were like a military operation to this end. Equally exhausting were the arrangements for all the proud parents to be sent their invitations and would they respond on time.
Most recently, Miss Bradley's grey convertible had been mysteriously spirited away a week or so ago and this had caused a buzz of consternation as to what had happened to it. Was this a police matter and did the theft of a former teacher really concern them? Father Harris suspected the truth but was too constrained by the hothouse emotional tension to make a move.
One particular vexed question was the imposing shadow that Senator Tillman would cast on the proceedings connected with which was Annabelle Tillman's final grades. The Mother Immaculata kept this locked up like a military secret with all the diplomatic determination of Henry Kissinger.
"You shouldn't have sent off Annabelle Tillman's results like that to her parents without phoning her first," Father Harris ventured to suggest to the Mother Immaculata ,discreetly intruding beyond his pastoral duty of care on the religious front."At least you ought to phone them now to see if they are coming."
The glare of anger he received made him stomp out of her office and tempted him to slam the door in fury after him. He definitely resented her high handed attitude. It was at this tense minute that Simone phoned him up.
"It's good to hear from you Simone but you know as well as I do that these are troubled times, for me as well as for you,"he said in crusty tones."Still I should not spurn human contact from an old friend."
"Oh help,"Simone gulped. This very honest human reaction softened the old man's mood.
"You must forgive an old man his irritability. You'll know that the graduation ceremony is upon us and many unchristian thoughts and words are spoken at a time when your normal quiet assistance isn't with us this year. Still, I'm sure you haven't phoned just to pass the time of day with me."
"I err, I was wondering if any provision has been made about Annabelle Tillman's presence at the graduation," Simone said very tentatively.
"I would be delighted to know myself if I had the faintest idea of her grades. Seeking to obtain them is like breaking into Fort Knox with a toothpick."
"I can help you. Annabelle is with me and we have the results," Simone said quickly, her voice bursting with pride as she dared to take quick advantage of the situation as she saw how the land lay. Annabelle caught the drift of the conversation, reached for the letter with her free hand and let Simone confidently and proudly declaim the results down the phone. There was an astonished silence at the other end of the line.
"Words fail me. I have asked the Mother Immaculata on this very matter and I've been stonewalled. Can I ask you another question, Simone?" he asked in kindlier tones, the anger in his voice clearly thankfully not directed at her.
"Sure,"Simone replied softly. The old man knew for certain that Simone Bradley was being totally sincere.
"Would you happen to know if Miss Tillman's parents are intending to attend their daughter's academic triumph?"
"Unless anything's changed that we don't know, they won't be. We went to visit them yesterday and both of them have appointments that, 'as public figures, they can't possibly get out of,'"Simone replied promptly, unable to stop a trace of sarcasm leaking into her voice.
"I suppose that leaves you as Annabelle's companion and one time teacher to accompany her if you both feel you want to," Father Harris said in loud, brisk tones, his heart warming to his one time star pupil. It had originally been on the tip of his tongue to lecture her sternly about the return of the prodigal daughter but, as the conversation had proceed, he could feel his sympathies start to shift in her direction. He was also mindful of the follies of rash judgement and decided that, whatever he had heard about the scandal that had suddenly broken over the school like a tidal wave, Simone would not have acted without reason.
Annabelle's sharp ears picked up on both ends of the conversation, nodded her head rapidly and a beaming smile illuminated her face. A slow feeling of warmth spread through Simone's system as she sensed success drifting into their direction as she clutched the very welcoming hand.
"That is really kind of you. We'd both be delighted to see you again. We know that not everyone will welcome us and we'll be discreet and careful. Annabelle understands the situation."
"I will personally see to the arrangements for you and Miss Tillman to have a place. It will happen, believe me. A distinguished scholar cannot pass without recognition," chuckled Father Harris, with evident pleasure at the fight in hand he knew he'd win to secure this.
"Annabelle says thank you and so do I," Simone said, feeling really emotional.
"You know to go to the usual shop for the graduation regalia, Simone. So long as you act with wisdom and courage at the graduation, you cannot go far wrong. Hey, that sounds like the words of a good sermon. You must excuse me if I go back to my labours."
He signed off and both women looked at each other with glowing eyes and threw their arms round each other. It had been easier than Simone had feared. After the initial joy of their success flooded through their systems, they flopped down on the sofa together as they felt temporarily drained of energy.
"I never dreamed that we'd pull this off," breathed Simone ecstatically, a wide smile spreading over her face. Annabelle leaned her head in affectionately into her lover's shoulder. Amongst so many reasons, she loved Simone's little touches of thoughtfulness in strictly avoiding any Superwoman complex.
"So now that we've worked hard this morning, what shall we do next,"Simone asked in her expansively. Annabelle was ready for this one. She desperately wanted to activate her early morning plan and she jumped to her feet in excitement.
"There's one thing I really, really want to do and that is to treat you to a romantic evening to celebrate our success.
"But all our evenings are romantic," queried her literal minded partner as she surveyed the way the mood of the evening had shifted towards the erotic to find fulfilment in bed.
"Not the way I can make it," argued back Annabelle as all sorts of ideas started colliding around in her mind."I used to do this with Marilyn when we had the chance to be on our own without parents bugging us by being there. I used to go shopping for all kinds of shit. That was a couple of years ago and I'm a bit more sophisticated since then but I know I can do it without spending much. Oh please,please, please say you'll agree," she finished saying, her long hair flying about and jumping around excitedly.
"How can I resist?" laughed Simone, charmed by the way she put it. After all, the idea of monastic self deprivation had no real appeal to her and they'd earned it over the last year that their relationship had gradually built up with all the traumas along the way.
"Right, we take the car to a shop I spotted and there's a really interesting bookshop you could be looking through and as soon as I've finished, I'll call you," Annabelle answered, reeling out a million words a minute. Simone stretched out her right arm for the younger woman to haul her to her feet. They were off on a mission..
Gleefully, the two women clattered their way to the top of the staircase and there was their car, somewhat inelegantly parked with the back sticking out into the road and the front end resting on the gravel at the side of the road. Annabelle's hand flew to cover her mouth as disjointed images broke surface of their crazy drive home from her parents.
"That really is lousy driving. I think I'd better let you take the car out. Seems I need to do some making up to the car as well as you," Annabelle said with a nervous laugh. Inspiration bubbled to the surface in Simone's mind.
"Why don't you if it takes that to make you feel better," Simone replied with an impish grin. The younger woman looked at this crazy woman and then thought to herself
"Oh, you poor, poor car," Annabelle exclaimed loudly, stroking the gleaming silver grey side of the car."I'll never ever mistreat you again. So how's about that for making up? It's kinda metallic and too big for anything else."
Simone collapsed with a fit of the giggles at the way her lover that taken the ball and run with it. The younger woman saw the humour of the situation as well as the underlying seriousness and started laughing, shaking her head. An inward smile of satisfaction told her that this woman of hers was extraordinarily well tuned into the nuances of life that was effortlessly comforting.
"Do you want to drive? I'm easy either way," Simone asked in a composed fashion.
"You drive Simone and I'll take it on the way back," Annabelle said, placing the car keys that were still left in her holdall in Simone's hand. Smiling, the fair haired woman moved to the driver's seat on this beautiful mellow Sunday.