Chapter 4

Agathe had not repeated her visit to the Clergy House. Once, she had met Annette in the market and treated her to a cup of coffee in a street café. Annette had been pale and withdrawn, unlike the girl Agathe had lived with for so long. She still refused to admit that there was anything wrong, but Agathe still didn’t believe her. When she had suggested that she might visit the Clergy House again, Annette had begged her not to.

‘I don’t think Father Thomas would like it if he saw you there,’ she said.

And he’d take it out on you! thought Agathe.

She had not seen Annette for several weeks, which, she decided, was strange. Surely she must come to the market to buy provisions for the house, as she herself did. Was Annette avoiding her? As the days passed Agathe became increasingly worried about her, and though Annette had asked her to stay away, she finally decided that she must return to the Clergy House. She would wait until she was sure Father Thomas was saying Mass in the church and there was no chance of meeting him and then call at the house.

Two days later Agathe made her way back to St Jacques church and watched as Father Thomas went in. Once the door had closed on the congregation, she walked briskly across the square and rang the Clergy House bell. She heard movement inside and was already smiling as the door opened. Her smile froze as she was greeted by an elderly woman, spherical in shape, her head perched on the end of a short neck, her face the colour of pastry, from which protruded two bulbous eyes that regarded her suspiciously.

‘Who’re you?’ she demanded by way of greeting. ‘Father Thomas isn’t here. He’s in the church.’

Agathe overcame her surprise at this reception and said, ‘It isn’t Father Thomas I’ve come to see, but his housekeeper, Annette. May I come in?’

‘I’m Father Thomas’s housekeeper,’ said the woman, standing firmly in the doorway. ‘And there’s no one called Annette here.’

‘She’s gone? When did she leave? Where did she go?’

‘If you mean the flighty bit who was looking after the father before I came, I don’t know and I don’t care. She was no better than she should be! Simply disappeared, she did, leaving poor Father Thomas in the lurch. If I hadn’t come to help out, what sort of state would the poor man have been left in, I’d like to know? No one to look after him.’

Agathe looked at her for a moment and then said quietly, ‘In that case, madame, I won’t take up any more of your time.’ She turned away, only to find a pudgy hand grabbing at her arm.

‘Who shall I tell the father came to see him?’

Turning back, Agathe removed the hand from her sleeve and looked into the two piggy eyes. ‘Just one of his parishioners,’ she lied. ‘I’ll call again to see him.’