Free Vow of Penance by Veronica Black Page A

would come to her. And then it had apparently come and she’d wanted to discuss the matter with someone.
    ‘Only she didn’t get the chance,’ Sister Joan said aloud.
    And she wasn’t going to get the chance to pursue the subject. There were no suspicious circumstances accompanying the death, no chance of it having been an accident, no way she could think of in which a healthy, vigorous woman could have been forced to swallow such a concoction.
    An unwelcome thought struck her as she drove through the gates. Was it possible that she craved the excitement of a possible murder? The notion was disquieting in the extreme since it clashed with all her longings for a peaceful, uncluttered life.
    ‘Your first loyalty must be to God, the second to the rule of our Order, the third to the rest of your community, the rest to those, whether lay or religious, who seek your help or would profit from your prayers.’
    She could hear the beautifully modulated tones of Mother Agnes, visualize her former superior’s grave, Gothic features. That had been when she herself had been a postulant and what one learned as a postulant formed the kernel of the whole fruit of one’s future religious life. Edging the car round into the garage Sister Joan wished she had a simpler, less cluttered personality. For the other sisters priorities seemed clear. For herself there was always the inner conflict.
    ‘You were a very long time, Sister,’ Mother Dorothy said, coming out of the back door as Sister Joan lugged in the groceries.
    ‘I’m sorry, Mother. I waited for Mrs Fairly but Detective Sergeant Mill was passing by the café and came in to tell me what had happened.’‘Father Stephens was good enough to telephone me about twenty minutes ago,’ Mother Dorothy said. Behind her gold-coloured spectacles her eyes were troubled. ‘I only knew Mrs Fairly very slightly but the news shocked me greatly. Do you think her request for a meeting with you this morning was linked with whatever was preying on her mind?’
    I’ve no idea, Mother. It’s possible, but she didn’t seem to me to have something so serious on her mind that it would lead her to do such a thing.’
    ‘Let me help you with the bags, Sister.’ The prioress relieved her of a large one and looked at it critically. ‘Plastic has its detractors, I understand,’ she said, ‘but these make excellent growbags for Sister Martha’s vegetables and fruit bushes. Let Sister Jerome put the groceries away and come through to the parlour.’
    Sister Jerome who was on her knees, cleaning the oven as vigorously as if she were punishing it, rose silently and took the bags, lifting them without apparent effort on to the kitchen table. Sister Joan lingered to take off her cloak and her overshoes before following the prioress.
    ‘Sit down, Sister.’ Mother Dorothy indicated a stool and herself took the high-backed chair reserved for the prioress. She had held the post now for nearly two years and in three more would be replaced by whichever one of her sisters was voted for by the others.
    ‘Since you have already learned from Detective Sergeant Mill of the recent sad and shocking event there is no need for me to discuss the details with you,’ Mother Dorothy was continuing. ‘I’m sure if you had any information bearing on the matter you would have passed it on to Detective Sergeant Mill. I shall merely inform the rest of the community that Mrs Fairly, whom few of them even knew by sight, has died suddenly and we will, of course, offer the customary prayers. I must say that I was exceedingly shocked when FatherStephens told me what had happened. I feel particularly sorry for Father Malone.’
    ‘Is he to be told?’ Sister Joan looked up sharply.
    ‘Father Stephens feels and I agree with him that it would serve no good purpose to spoil Father’s pleasure in his trip by telling him yet especially as there is nothing he can do that cannot be done equally well by others. In a month or two,