‘What?’ he growled.

‘Suspicious?’

‘I could always see the good in him.’ Brother Prosper neatly sidestepped my question.

‘And the situation with the girl, Orla?’ I persisted.

‘He was devoted to the child. But she was gone – God rest her soul.’ Brother Prosper hastily crossed himself. ‘That chapter was closed.’

A brief silence followed.

‘So why exactly are you …?’ I broke it, somewhat trepidatiously.

‘What?’ Brother Prosper snapped.

‘Here? With me? Now?’

‘Because …’

Brother Prosper exhaled, sharply. ‘Because she haunts me, that’s why. She torments me. The child. She reveals herself to me.’

‘Oh.’ I frowned.

‘It’s not … it’s never been welcome,’ Brother Prosper continued. ‘The first time I saw her she was standing outside Father Pietr’s cell. She was waiting for him. Outside the door.’

‘How did you know?’ I wondered, intrigued. ‘That it was her?’

‘She was wearing a long coat. A long, fur coat. Lots of little rabbit skins sewn together. Very ornate. And she was dark-skinned. Aboriginal.’

‘Had you been subject to …?’

‘… supernatural visions before?’ Brother Prosper completed my sentence for me.

‘Absolutely not. No. Never.’

I nodded.

‘But after that – after the first time – I saw her constantly. Outside his door. Waiting. Eventually I had to ask him, you know, if he had seen her there himself.’

‘Had he?’

‘No. And he became quite …’ – Brother Prosper struggled to express himself for a second – ‘… distressed by my asking him.’

‘Why was that, do you think?’

‘Perhaps he thought I was testing him. Maybe he felt like he’d let her down. Shut her out. By entering the monastery. I don’t know.’

‘What did you think?’ I asked.

‘It wasn’t my place to think anything!’ Brother Prosper snorted.

‘And then what happened?’ I persisted.

‘I was retired. As abbot.’

I gazed at him, in silence.

‘Father Pietr expressed certain … misgivings – concerns. About my mental stability. To some of the other monks. To the wider community. I lost my authority. In the end I felt obliged to … to step down.’

I was shocked.

‘Were you angry?’ I wondered.

‘Yes! Furious!’ Brother Prosper barked. ‘But I’d have done exactly the same thing myself under those circumstances.’

‘I see.’

We are quiet for a while.

‘So did you continue to see her – Orla – after that initial spate of …?’

‘No. No, I didn’t see her again,’ he admitted, ‘not until last night, that is. She was outside his door again last night. So I knew something was brewing. And then this morning …’

He cleared his throat, awkwardly. ‘She was standing on the lawn.’

‘The lawn?’ I echoed, blithely.

‘With you. She was standing with you. You were talking to her. Arguing.’

The skin on the back of my neck suddenly started to goose-bump.

‘I’ve never … I wasn’t … I wasn’t talking to her,’ I stuttered.

‘And then this evening, before dinner. I saw her again. She was standing outside your door. But without her coat. I could tell – for the first time – that her arms were unnaturally short. I hadn’t seen that before. Your door was slightly ajar. She beckoned towards me. Then she pointed inside and she smiled.’