first to survey
the scene and test the facility of entry, and they took the thimble as a proof
they’d done so. Fathers Baudouin and Maximilian were satisfied and therefore they
came next night for the love-letters. It was —’
‘Winifrede, let’s hear no more,’ Walburga says. ‘Alexandra is to
be innocent of the details. No specific items, please.’
‘Well,’ says obstinate Winifrede, ‘she was just asking why the hell
—’
‘Alexandra has said no such thing,’ Walburga menaces. ‘She said nothing
of the kind,’ Mildred agrees.
Alexandra sits at her little desk and smiles. ‘Alexandra, I heard it with my own
ears. You were inquiring as to the thimble.’
‘If you believe your own ears more than you believe us, Winifrede,’ says
Alexandra, ‘then perhaps it is time for us to part. It may be you have lost your
religious vocation, and we shall all quite understand if you decide to return to the
world quietly, before the election.’
Dawn breaks for a moment through the terribly bad weather of Winifrede’s
understanding. She says, ‘Sister Alexandra, you asked me for no explanation
whatsoever, and I have furnished none.’
‘Excellent,’ says Alexandra. ‘I love you so dearly, Winifrede, that I
could eat you were it not for the fact that I can’t bear suet pudding. Would you
mind going away now and start giving all the nuns a piece of your mind. They are
whispering and carrying on about the episode. Put Felicity under a three days’
silence. Give her a new thimble and ten yards of poplin to hem.’
‘Felicity is in the orchard with Thomas,’ states Winifrede.
‘Alexandra has a bad cold and her hearing is affected,’ Walburga observes,
looking at her pretty fingernails.
‘Clear off,’ says Mildred, which Winifrede does, and faithfully, meanwhile,
the little cylindrical ears in the walls transmit the encounter; the tape-recorder
receives it in the control room where spools, spools and spools twirl obediently for
hours and many hours.
When Winifrede has gone, the three Sisters sit for a moment in silence, Alexandra
regarding the press cutting, Walburga and Mildred regarding Alexandra.
‘Felicity is in the orchard with Thomas,’ Alexandra says, ‘and she
hopes to be Abbess of Crewe.’
‘We have no video connection with the orchard,’ says Mildred, ‘not as
yet.’
‘Gertrude,’ says Alexandra on the green telephone,
‘we have news that you’ve crossed the Himalayas and are preaching
birth-control. The Bishops are demanding an explanation. We’ll be in trouble with
Rome, Gertrude, my dear, and it’s very embarrassing with the election so
near.’
‘I was only preaching to the birds like St Francis,’ Gertrude says.
‘Gertrude, where are you speaking from?’
‘It’s unpronounceable and they’re changing the name of the town
tomorrow to something equally unpronounceable.’
‘We’ve had our difficulties here at Crewe,’ says Alexandra. ‘You
had better come home, Gertrude, and assist with the election.’
‘One may not canvass the election of an Abbess,’ Gertrude says in her deepest
voice. ‘Each vote is a matter of conscience. Winifrede is to vote for me by
proxy.’
‘A couple of Jesuit novices broke into the convent during Compline and Felicity is
going round the house saying they were looking for evidence against her. They took her
thimble. She’s behaving in a most menopausal way, and she claims there’s a
plot against her to prevent her being elected Abbess. Of course, it’s a lot of
nonsense. Why don’t you come home, Gertrude, and make a speech about
it?’
‘I wasn’t there at the time,’ Gertrude says. ‘I was
here.’
‘Have you got bronchitis, Gertrude?’
‘No,’ says Gertrude, ‘you’d better make a speech yourself. Be
careful not to canvass for votes.’
‘Gertrude, my love, how do I go about appealing to these nuns’ higher
instincts? Felicity
the scene and test the facility of entry, and they took the thimble as a proof
they’d done so. Fathers Baudouin and Maximilian were satisfied and therefore they
came next night for the love-letters. It was —’
‘Winifrede, let’s hear no more,’ Walburga says. ‘Alexandra is to
be innocent of the details. No specific items, please.’
‘Well,’ says obstinate Winifrede, ‘she was just asking why the hell
—’
‘Alexandra has said no such thing,’ Walburga menaces. ‘She said nothing
of the kind,’ Mildred agrees.
Alexandra sits at her little desk and smiles. ‘Alexandra, I heard it with my own
ears. You were inquiring as to the thimble.’
‘If you believe your own ears more than you believe us, Winifrede,’ says
Alexandra, ‘then perhaps it is time for us to part. It may be you have lost your
religious vocation, and we shall all quite understand if you decide to return to the
world quietly, before the election.’
Dawn breaks for a moment through the terribly bad weather of Winifrede’s
understanding. She says, ‘Sister Alexandra, you asked me for no explanation
whatsoever, and I have furnished none.’
‘Excellent,’ says Alexandra. ‘I love you so dearly, Winifrede, that I
could eat you were it not for the fact that I can’t bear suet pudding. Would you
mind going away now and start giving all the nuns a piece of your mind. They are
whispering and carrying on about the episode. Put Felicity under a three days’
silence. Give her a new thimble and ten yards of poplin to hem.’
‘Felicity is in the orchard with Thomas,’ states Winifrede.
‘Alexandra has a bad cold and her hearing is affected,’ Walburga observes,
looking at her pretty fingernails.
‘Clear off,’ says Mildred, which Winifrede does, and faithfully, meanwhile,
the little cylindrical ears in the walls transmit the encounter; the tape-recorder
receives it in the control room where spools, spools and spools twirl obediently for
hours and many hours.
When Winifrede has gone, the three Sisters sit for a moment in silence, Alexandra
regarding the press cutting, Walburga and Mildred regarding Alexandra.
‘Felicity is in the orchard with Thomas,’ Alexandra says, ‘and she
hopes to be Abbess of Crewe.’
‘We have no video connection with the orchard,’ says Mildred, ‘not as
yet.’
‘Gertrude,’ says Alexandra on the green telephone,
‘we have news that you’ve crossed the Himalayas and are preaching
birth-control. The Bishops are demanding an explanation. We’ll be in trouble with
Rome, Gertrude, my dear, and it’s very embarrassing with the election so
near.’
‘I was only preaching to the birds like St Francis,’ Gertrude says.
‘Gertrude, where are you speaking from?’
‘It’s unpronounceable and they’re changing the name of the town
tomorrow to something equally unpronounceable.’
‘We’ve had our difficulties here at Crewe,’ says Alexandra. ‘You
had better come home, Gertrude, and assist with the election.’
‘One may not canvass the election of an Abbess,’ Gertrude says in her deepest
voice. ‘Each vote is a matter of conscience. Winifrede is to vote for me by
proxy.’
‘A couple of Jesuit novices broke into the convent during Compline and Felicity is
going round the house saying they were looking for evidence against her. They took her
thimble. She’s behaving in a most menopausal way, and she claims there’s a
plot against her to prevent her being elected Abbess. Of course, it’s a lot of
nonsense. Why don’t you come home, Gertrude, and make a speech about
it?’
‘I wasn’t there at the time,’ Gertrude says. ‘I was
here.’
‘Have you got bronchitis, Gertrude?’
‘No,’ says Gertrude, ‘you’d better make a speech yourself. Be
careful not to canvass for votes.’
‘Gertrude, my love, how do I go about appealing to these nuns’ higher
instincts? Felicity
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