I kept my chin to my chest. We weren’t done; I had to find the courage to be free from it all. ‘And what about sexual deviancy?’

She stayed quiet.

I pushed on: ‘Do you do that because you are wicked and possessed?’

I looked up. She narrowed her eyes. ‘Which “you” are we talking about here?’

‘Me,’ I said. ‘Who did you think?’

She had been holding her breath and now let it go.

‘Oh, I didn’t mean… I wasn’t talking about you and Ruth if that’s what –’

‘No, I didn’t suppose that you were.’

The silence was drawn out and awkward.

‘There was love in your heart,’ Cat said eventually. ‘I saw it. Ruth saw it. We both know love when it comes along.’

She was only talking about Ben.

She had misunderstood me all along. I had been talking about sex, which was my sin alone, something selfish you can do with someone else. Cat had confounded sex with love, a united act, and in doing that perhaps she saved me. Her mention of the word came like a rope knotted at intervals and thrown over the side of a well. Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good. If Metanoia was not to wail her remorse at my missed opportunity, it was time to pull myself free.

We continued to meet daily for a week or so, until I felt strong enough to return to my job. Though she did not speak for Jacob Crane, Cat said she would speak to him, smooth the path for my return. I had sought out time and space to commune with the Lord, was what she told him, how could our headmaster argue with that?

As I hugged her in thanks, there was a click – the latch lifting on the door.

‘My next parishioner in need,’ Cat said, breaking our embrace. ‘Unless you would like to stand in for me on this occasion?’

This was her final attempt at ministering to my soul. She was Cupid disobeying the orders of Venus. I turned to see Ben – walking down the aisle.

November 2017

NOVEMBER 2017

The path was clear, no Michael in her way, but Viola’s conviction dimmed.

Her mind was two wild horses – one galloping remorselessly forward in pursuit of friendship; the other fleeing, certain of rejection. She had heard the Eldest Girls call out for a sun god, for mother moon, for the ghosts of Lark’s past. How disappointed they would be when Viola, a mere mortal, rose from the ferns.

She decided to prepare an offering. A task that would take her away from the stones for a while, from the anxiety they now caused her. A simple procrastination.