Read Online Medusa by Torkil Damhaug - Free Book Online Page B

behind in church after evening prayers. He had to take confession and left the candles burning. The time he sat there waiting and listening in that large space eased his mind. He could approach silence. The sounds of the traffic outside barely penetrated the walls. Then the main door opened. He recognised the figure walking up the central aisle at once.
    – Good evening, he said, jocularly formal. – What a pleasant surprise.
    The young woman took his outstretched hand.
    – I won’t take too much of your time, Father Raymond.
    He brushed this away.
    – Dear Miriam, if you only knew what a pleasure it is to see you. It’s been months.
    He escorted her to a small room next to the sacristy, offered her a seat on the bench beside the door, and sat on a chair opposite her.
    – I think of you so often, he said. – Just very recently, in fact.
    He remembered at once that it was the day before, in the morning, as he was on his way to the office. He’d thought of her as he was putting the key into the door. He thought of her because she had appeared in his dream the previous night. He didn’t tell her this. Instead he asked her how her studies were going. Miriam answered vaguely, and that surprised him, because usually she would respond to such a question in a very detailed manner.
    He crossed his legs and sat back, observing her. Her face was what fascinated him most. The sight of a pretty face had always had a stimulating effect on him. Like a good wine, or a well-turned piece of prose. But there was something about Miriam’s face. It reminded him of a thought he often returned to. Something by a philosopher who, oddly enough, came from her native country, and whose work he had studied for years: The trace of Him in the Other’s face.
    – I’ve met someone, she said.
    He nodded once or twice, sustaining his silence long enough for her to have no choice but to go on.
    – A man.
    That much he had gathered. Very slightly he began rocking back and forth in his chair, as though this movement would enable him to put aside everything else that was on his mind and direct his full attention towards her.
    – You say this as though it were a problem.
    Gone was that slight feeling of dissatisfaction that had taken hold of him earlier in the evening. In its place he felt a quiet joy spreading through him. She was troubled in some way. She had come to him. On another occasion, some time ago now, she had visited him in order to talk about a man. She wanted to end it, but felt sorry for the man and didn’t want to cause him any more hurt.
    – Have you known him a long time … this new one? Father Raymond asked discreetly.
    – A week ago tomorrow.
    He opened his mouth to say something.
    – I know it doesn’t sound like long, she added quickly. – But it’s as though I’ve always known him. I can’t explain it.
    – You are good at explaining, the priest said encouragingly.
    She gave him a long look.
    – We can’t go on meeting … He’s seventeen years older than me.
    – I see.
    – He’s married with three children. Now I’ve said it. If you want me to leave, I’ll understand.
    A smile flitted across Father Raymond’s lips.
    – I don’t believe you can have such a low opinion of me.
     
    She told him more. And yet he still had the feeling she was holding something back. She was troubled, seemed almost afraid, but he didn’t push her. When she fell silent, he asked:
    – Can people find happiness together knowing that their happiness is built on the destruction of the lives of others?
    – I don’t think so, Father.
    He cleared his throat.
    – How involved are you?
    – I spoke to him when he lectured us before the holidays. I thought about him all summer. I thought it would pass if I met him again, but it only got worse.
    – So you’re not being … the priest began. – He isn’t pressuring you in any way?
    – I’m the one who’s chased after him, she answered firmly. – I planned it all out