Read Online Staring At The Light by Frances Fyfield - Free Book Online Page B

be surprised if he behaves in the way you designed him. I’m not attempting to speak up for God, you understand, only for the
     sisters in this order who would not like it at all. Andthey’d know, of course.’ She adjusted her robe. ‘Imelda can detect a fingerprint in here at fifty paces, let alone anything
     else. Although I suppose if she were to put sins in categories it would be the discovery of a cigarette end would really give
     her the vapours. I had a hard time with that, I can tell you.’
    Last week, a cigarette in here. Cannon shook his head. He had never been more ashamed of smoking in his life. If his presence
     in this place was going to be revealed by something so venal and stupid, he did not deserve the fulfilment of any wish.
    ‘I imagine we all grade sin in accordance with our own understanding,’ Sister Pauline mused. ‘Imelda was probably tempted
     to smoke once. As for sex, I doubt it somehow. She grinds her teeth instead. And now, I suppose,’ Sister Pauline went on,
     ‘I’ll have to pretend I made a bonfire in here. You must do something about that coat, Mr Cannon. Get a new one from Oxfam.
     I don’t know how your wife puts up with it.’ She sighed. ‘I knew I was right to choose God. He never snores either.’
    Julie giggled softly. ‘Oh, Sister …’ Her voice trailed off into uncertainty. There was a tiny rattle of the rosary beads.
     Light from the window caught Pauline’s features. A large hooked nose and a wide, mobile mouth, slightly sunken eyes with bushy
     grey brows, and a bony forehead. The contours of her face predominated over the detail.
    Cannon thought how much he would like to paint that face, but this was not quite the time to suggest it. An idea formed. He
     could present himself astravelling artist, offer to paint the whole order one by one … No. He could do nothing that in any open sense connected him
     to this place because Johnny would find out but, all the same, he liked the idea of painting a face like this, so bereft of
     vanity that its owner would not even have been able to define what the word really meant. How old was she? Seventy? Difficult
     to tell: they were ageless.
    ‘And now will you tell me, Mr Cannon, how much longer is this charade going to go on? I think I know why you can’t arrive
     by daylight like any other visitor. My niece told me, and I don’t doubt her since she’s not exactly subject to paranoia. I
     must say, a visit from you in the parlour would be nice. You could pose as Julie’s long-lost suitor. The sisters would be
     totally delighted. They adore the very sniff of romance. But not, however, in the chapel.’
    The silence was companionable. Cannon bowed his head deeper into his chest. It was difficult to meet the intensity of Pauline’s
     gaze and he was grateful for the gloom. Seen in sunlight, he imagined her eyes would have the effect of lasers and her voice,
     ascended from its current whispering murmur, would probably stop a herd of elephants with a single order. She would not need
     to fire a shot. Her teeth were very white, whiter even than his own.
    ‘Only I know it’s all very well for God to be relied on to provide,’ she said, ‘but the devil flourishes on ignorance. I,
     on the other hand, do not.’
    ‘It’s better that way, Sister,’ Cannon muttered, and Julie nodded agreement.
    ‘Oh, is it, I wonder? Or do you and my niece persist in the sweet belief that a nun cannot comprehend the wicked ways of the
     world without fainting from shock? You really should know better. And so should she.’
    Julie squeezed Cannon’s arm, reminding him not to argue. ‘
I
don’t think that, Sister.’
    The nun laughed softly, and leaned across Cannon to pat Julie’s hand. ‘No, I shouldn’t think you do.’
    Julie shook at the touch, remembering, as she always would, that it had been Pauline who had first seen her naked state when
     Sarah brought her here, her back scored as if she had been flogged through her torn