‘Did he ever mention …?’ I started off (thoroughly perplexed by this curious response).

‘No’ – Brother Prosper shook his head – ‘Father Pietr never discusses his past. It’s a closed book to him – to us all. He knows how lucky he was to be accepted into the Order. If it hadn’t been for Brother Richard’s influence …’

‘Brother …?’

‘Pietr’s father was a Benedictine himself. He became a monk when Hugh turned eighteen. They were always a devout family. Pietr never seriously considered any other kind of vocation. Both his sisters became Missionaries of Charity.’

‘But I’m sure I read something somewhere about Father Hugh working as a draughtsman in an architect’s office …’ I averred.

‘No, no,’ Brother Prosper clucked, ‘that was Brother Richard, before he became a monk. He was a draughtsman. He worked for Davin Cleary who was an architect based in Monaghan. Brother Pietr attended the Benedictine school at Glenstal Abbey just outside Limerick. He boarded there. After his mother died. Davin Cleary, Bran Cleary’s father – God rest his soul – paid the fees. Maeve Cleary – Bran’s mother – was always very fond of the child. She was a passionate Catholic herself. Father Pietr was taught by the Benedictines. He was training to become an architect – sponsored financially by the Cleary family – when he got the call from God to be ordained priest. He was still very … very green when the situation blew up with the … you know. Maeve was instrumental in bringing them together. The parents were often away, working, in the North. The child had gone on a holiday to Australia to visit her maternal grandfather and had suffered from heatstroke. Since then she’d not been right. Emotionally. Maeve was convinced it was connected to the dark arts. To the Dreaming. That she’d been … possessed. So she got Father Pietr involved. A laying on of hands – something of that order. But he knew straight away – as soon as they met – that the child was very special. He said there was a strong sense of awe, and of fear. She was a quiet child. Calm. Very serious. Sincere. Of course, when the parents found out about Pietr’s involvement with her they weren’t best pleased – although Pietr and Bran had been friends since childhood. They spent most of their school holidays together …’

Brother Prosper shrugged. ‘But Pietr’s credentials were pretty solid – as far as the Benedictines were concerned. They’d loved him at the school. He was head boy. And of course his father was tight with our abbot at that time.’

‘The abbot …?’ I echoed (automatically).

‘Me,’ Brother Prosper admitted, before adding, ‘for my sins.’

‘Ah.’

‘It’s not encouraged,’ Brother Prosper continued, ‘for a parish priest to, you know, change his vocation. It’s not encouraged. But he was in a difficult predicament. His situation in Monaghan became impossible after Bran Cleary died. The rumours and speculation.’

‘But you weren’t …?’