Anne Bennett 3-Book Collection: A Sister’s Promise, A Daughter’s Secret, A Mother’s Spirit. Anne Bennett

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СКАЧАТЬ is very fond of Tom,’ Nellie said. ‘It would be hard not to be, but sure, the man cannot be everywhere.’

      ‘No, indeed.’

      ‘What Molly would really like, Father, for she has told my own daughter Cathy, is to come to Buncrana perhaps on a Saturday a time or two. Tom and Biddy come every week, but Molly is never allowed after the one time she was here.’

      ‘Why not?’

      Nellie shrugged. ‘You must ask her that, Father, because to my knowledge she has been given no explanation.’

      ‘If she was to come in with them, it would solve another problem I have and that is confession,’ the priest said. ‘There are weeks between each one Molly makes, and she comes to the church either Thursday or Friday evening, when the chores are done at home and Tom has time to bring her down, for her grandmother forbids her to go alone. This much she has told me when I asked her. The point is, I hear Biddy and Tom’s confession every two weeks on Saturday morning when they are in Buncrana anyway, and surely it would do the child good to do the same thing.’

      ‘You’d think so, Father,’ Nellie said. ‘Maybe you could use that as a lever.’

      ‘Maybe I could indeed. I will certainly give the matter some thought.’

      Before the priest had much time to give to thought at all, in fact that same evening, Molly entered the confessional box and kneeled down. ‘Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It is six weeks since my last confession.’

      The priest decided, much as he trusted Nellie’s judgement and assessment of the situation, he would get the child’s viewpoint on it as well, and so he commented again that he would like to see her more often.

      ‘I can’t, Father. I have told you how it is.’

      ‘But your uncle and grandmother attend regularly when they come to town with their produce on Saturday.’

      ‘I know, Father.’

      ‘So, why don’t you come with them?’

      ‘I’m not allowed,’ Molly said. ‘I think it is something to do with the fact that my grandmother would not like me to have fun of any sort.’ She saw the sharp movement of the priest’s head behind the screen and said, ‘It’s true. Come and talk to her yourself, Father, if you don’t believe me. She sees sin in laughter and enjoyment. I can’t understand it. My mother was forever saying that God wouldn’t have given us the gift of laughter if he didn’t want us to use it.’

      ‘A wise woman,’ the priest said. ‘There is no harm at all in honest laughter and indeed, it lightens the load for many. I think it will be good for you to come to town and meet people, and I can’t see any sin at all in that. I will come and have a word with your grandmother.’

      Molly knew that priests were a law unto themselves and they had immense power, so she smiled and said, ‘I’d say “best of luck”, but that’s not the thing to say, is it? Not in the confessional, at any rate.’

      She heard the answering smile in the priest’s voice as he commented, ‘Let’s say that I will endeavour to change your grandmother’s mind with the help of God.’

      You might need God and all the saints marshalled together, thought Molly later as she left the confessional box, and yet the priest had their immortal souls in the palm of his hand and even her grandmother listened to him.

      As it was a fine evening, Tom was waiting for her outside, leaning against the wall, and he was amused by the large smile on Molly’s face as she left the church.

      ‘What’s up with you?’ he said. ‘You look like the cat that got the cream.’

      ‘What’s wrong with being happy?’

      ‘Nothing,’ Tom conceded. ‘It’s just that most people don’t come out of confession with a dirty great grin on their faces, but no one should be forced to share their thoughts if they don’t want to, so you keep yours to yourself and no harm done.’

      Molly was glad her uncle didn’t press her. If the priest did what he said he would do and visited the house, then Tom and her grandmother would know soon enough and she resolved to think no more about it.

      So when, just a few days later, Biddy opened the door to the priest, Tom caught sight of the look on Molly’s face as the man entered the room. He suddenly knew that the priest’s visit was linked in some way to what had been said to Molly at her last confession, which had put her in such good humour. Biddy was unsuspicious, for it wasn’t completely out of the way for the priest to call, though he would usually mention on Sunday morning that he might call around one evening that week. He hadn’t to be more specific than that, because the priest was the one person always sure of his welcome.

      Biddy smiled as much as she was able, and bade the man come in and sit by the fire and rest himself. She helped the priest off with his coat as she spoke and then roared at Molly to put the kettle on to make the priest a cup of tea.

      The priest did not broach the subject of confession straight away. He drank the tea Molly gave him and helped himself to a piece of barnbrack and another of oaten bread, which Biddy pressed on him. They talked of farming matters and the vagaries of the prices at the livestock market. Molly listened to the voices rise and fall as she waited in an agony of impatience, thinking maybe she had misinterpreted the reason for the priest’s visit and that any minute he would get to his feet, thank her for the refreshments and be gone.

      ‘Get Father Finlay another cup of tea,’ said Biddy, her strident voice cutting through Molly’s thoughts. ‘Where are your manners?’

      It was as Molly handed the priest the cup that their eyes met and she felt he was saying that he hadn’t forgotten the reason for being there. Then Molly began to relax a little. The priest took a sip of the tea before saying, ‘I was glad to see young Molly at confession a few days ago.’

      ‘Oh, yes, Father, I make sure she goes,’ Biddy said self-righteously. ‘Packed full of sin, she is.’

      The priest bent his head for a moment to hide the smile as he remembered the small misdemeanours that Molly had recounted to him. Packed full of sin was definitely not the way he would have described her, but it maybe worked to his advantage and he said, ‘That being the case, I am surprised that she doesn’t come more often.’

      Biddy flushed. ‘It’s time, so it is, Father. Tom is busy and indeed so is Molly.’

      ‘I understand that,’ the priest went on soothingly. ‘And that is why I don’t know why she doesn’t come with you to Buncrana on Saturday as you and Tom do.’

      ‘Isn’t this what I have told you, Mammy, over and over?’ Tom cried.

      Biddy ignored her son and instead said to the priest, ‘I don’t approve of the young ones in the town. I see them laughing together and carrying on, and I don’t want Molly up to any of that sort of caper.’

      The priest remembered Molly’s word in the confessional and knew she had spoken the truth. He said, ‘There is nothing wrong with laughter, Biddy, nothing at all.’ Then, paraphrasing Molly, he continued, ‘Sure, if the Good Lord didn’t want us to laugh then surely he would have not given us the ability to do so. As for the carry-on, well, there was nothing I liked better when I СКАЧАТЬ