‘That man, the priest? Father Petro?’

‘You know him?’

‘Everybody knows him. He’s a nice man but …’

‘But what?’

‘Ah, no, it’s nothing.’

‘What were you going to say?’

‘No, I mean he’s a good man but he likes these Mozambicans.’

‘That’s what a priest is supposed to do, isn’t it? Look after people when they are in need,’ Lindi said.

‘You’re right, ma’am. But that’s why the police and the tsotsis don’t like him. He is protecting them. The church where they are staying, it’s his church.’

‘Is that right? Well, I’d better get going.’

‘Good evening, ma’am.’

Lindi walked across the car park. She met Father Petro in the middle. ‘You didn’t tell me you had Mozambican families in your church.’

‘So you’ve caught me, eh?’ He was smiling.

Lindi marvelled at his equanimity. So this is what faith is about, she thought. Lindi was not religious, but in Father Petro’s presence she could begin to see how liberating it must be to hand your fate over to someone or something else. ‘Couldn’t we just talk to some of the people in your church?’ she asked.

‘I thought about that but I’m not sure it’s a good idea. The police are hanging around outside the gate and always asking questions.’ He still had a broad grin across his face. ‘I’m afraid nobody has told those stupid fellows the story of the shepherd and his flock.’

‘The chap in the shop said the police don’t like you.’

‘He said that? Well … how do you say it? I’m not on their Christmas card list but we get along fine. We understand each other.’

‘So why are they hanging around outside your church?’

‘They want to go in there and start scaring people, asking their stupid questions. They think I’m hiding someone. Lindi, I’m a fool but not so much, eh?’ He nudged her.

‘But from what I’ve seen today, if they really wanted to go in, a church gate or whatever isn’t going to stop them, is it?’

Lindi noticed a vehicle turn into the car park. Its lights were set on full beam. It swung round and started coming towards them at no more than walking pace. They were lit up, like actors on a stage. Father Petro turned but stood his ground. Lindi reached out to him.

‘Don’t worry, let me talk to these fools,’ he said.

The white bakkie swerved just a couple of metres away and pulled up beside them. The driver wound down his window. ‘So you have a new friend, Father.’ The man still had his sunglasses on.

‘You know me, Officer, always happy to help strangers.’

The driver turned his head towards Lindi, though she couldn’t really tell whether or not he was looking at her.