LITMIR.BIZ

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Ollie would stay tonight. She wished he would stay here all night. How nice would it be to know he was there? Hell she wanted him to stay in her bed. She wanted to make love to him then lie next to him, just knowing that he was there. It had been so long since she’d had anyone to snuggle up with. Martin had never been the snuggling type.

      Christ, she needed to stop comparing him with the useless idiot who was her soon-to-be ex-husband. Ollie was nothing like him. There was no comparing the pair of them. She let out a loud sigh. Instead she would spend tonight on her own, trying not to think of what Joe had been talking about, scaring her half to death. She would lock herself in her room with her earphones in listening to music or watching a nice, romantic film until she fell asleep and couldn’t hear any footsteps or smell old leather or burning flesh. Then she would wake up in the morning, ready to start the day again. Groundhog Day had nothing on the way her life was going at the moment.

       5 January 1933

      Agnes towel-dried herself, relieved to be rid of the coppery smell of Mary’s blood. Her hands still smelt faintly of bleach. She didn’t mind that smell so much; at least it was clean. She thought about going to church to pray for Mary. It was dark outside now and the ground was treacherous with black ice. She would never make it across the river. The stepping stones would be like walking on ice. Instead she decided to go the prayer room downstairs and spend the next hour praying for Mary’s soul. By the time she’d done that her appetite might have returned and Father Patrick should be back.

      Agnes had managed almost her whole life without a man to take care of her, but tonight it was what she needed, what they all needed. A strong male presence might be enough to deter Lilith from whatever her plans were; she just hoped that Patrick would see through the woman’s sob story. The more she thought about it the more she was convinced Lilith wasn’t who she seemed. The woman scared her, but Agnes wouldn’t let her see that. She wasn’t stupid.

      Dressing in a warm jumper and slacks, she went downstairs to find Edith and see if she wanted to come and pray with her. After checking the kitchen, front room, library and dining room she finally found her huddled by the fire in the parlour, her head bent close to Lilith’s. They were talking in hushed tones and didn’t notice her walk into the room. She coughed and Edith jumped away from Lilith as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

      ‘Sister Edith, I think you and I should go to the prayer room and pray for Sister Mary’s soul.’

      Edith stood up, her cheeks burning. ‘Of course, Mother Superior.’

      Edith scurried out of the room, not before turning to look at Lilith and smile. Agnes felt every hair on the back of her neck stand on end. What had they been whispering about and why the secrecy? If Agnes wasn’t wrong, Edith’s cheeks were flushed as if she’d been caught doing something forbidden. Agnes led the way to the prayer room and opened the door for Edith, who darted inside.

      ‘Is everything okay, Edith? You looked a little perturbed back there when I walked in. Is there anything you would like to tell me?’

      ‘Yes, Agnes; no I mean. Everything’s fine. We were just discussing Lilith’s ex-husband. We didn’t want to upset you any further than you already are. He’s a terrible man – so violent and so sadistic towards poor Lilith. I can’t believe she’s not dead because of him.’

      ‘You do know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you? I might look old and past it, but I did have a relatively normal life until it kicked me to the gutter and I turned to God. I’m not just a frail, old maid.’

      ‘Of course I do, Agnes, and I don’t think that at all. Thank you. I will if I need to.’

      But Agnes couldn’t push it out of her mind. Edith was the most impressionable of them all, and she wanted to know what that woman had been whispering to her about – more than ever.

      ***

      Edith could feel her cheeks burning because Lilith had been talking about sex – something that she could never in a million years discuss with Agnes. Something that she’d never discussed with anyone. Lilith led such an exciting life. She had been telling Edith how it felt to kiss another woman and Edith had been enthralled. It had made her skin tingle just thinking about it. The whole reason she had joined the convent was because of her fascination with women.

      Of course she’d never acted on her feelings. Her parents would never have forgiven her if she had. She would love to know how it felt to kiss and do immoral things with another woman. She had pretty much managed to stop thinking about it the last twelve months, but Lilith had stirred something in her tonight and she had a warm, tingly feeling between her legs. She wondered what it would be like if Lilith – with her small, slender hands and long, red painted nails – was to touch her between there.

      ‘Edith.’

      Edith jumped and looked to see Agnes’s outstretched hand. She couldn’t concentrate. This was terrible. She tried to think about poor Mary and her body, which had been ripped into pieces, but she couldn’t get past the thought of Lilith’s small, perfectly formed mouth. How would it would feel just once to press her lips against it and push her tongue inside?

      ‘Sorry, I just can’t concentrate. I feel so bad about poor Mary and I can’t settle.’

      ‘Very well, you can go and do what you like. Maybe you should go to bed, have an early night. I’ll pray for us both and Mary.’

      ‘Thank you, Mother Superior, I think I’ll do just that.’

      Edith turned to leave and as her fingers reached the doorknob, Agnes turned to look at her.

      ‘Oh and, Edith, I wouldn’t get too close to Lilith. I don’t trust her and I don’t know why she’s still here. Surely she has family or friends she can go and stay with? Has she mentioned anyone to you?’

      Edith shook her head. She couldn’t tell Agnes what she’d been thinking. That she wanted to do nothing more than get close to Lilith. Her cheeks flamed bright red at the thought and she rushed from the room. Her head down, she ran up the stairs and along the hall to the very last door at the end of the long corridor where her bedroom and sanctuary was. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Breathless, she opened the door and slammed it shut, then turned the key in the lock.

      She gasped as she turned around to see Lilith lying on her bed, completely naked. Edith wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. Instead she crossed the room, shedding her own clothes until she was as naked as Lilith, who patted the empty side of the bed next to her. Edith climbed in. Her last thoughts before she touched Lilith’s pale, white skin was God forgive me for being weak. I’m so sorry.

      ***

      Agnes prayed long and hard. She heard the front door slam as Patrick came in, but still carried on praying. Edith was acting strange. She had no idea where that woman was – probably in her room, or so Agnes hoped. It seemed that everyone had taken to meek and mild Lilith and fallen under her spell, except for her. Agnes felt repulsion fill her entire body every time she looked at her.

      When she finally finished she stood up and kissed the cross around her neck, then she went to the kitchen where she found Patrick removing the emergency bottle of brandy from the back of the cupboard. She sat down, crossing her hands on her lap. He put the bottle and two glasses down onto the table. She watched as he poured both himself and her a drink. She liked Patrick. He didn’t expect anyone to wait on him hand and foot like the last vicar who’d rarely made the effort to visit the nuns. When he’d finished he sat down and smiled at her.

      ‘Agnes, can I be frank with you?’

      She nodded.

      ‘You look tired; today has been a very long day. How are you?’

      She thought about saying the usual: ‘Oh I’m fine, Father. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow,’ only she couldn’t. Her shoulders felt so heavy with the physical weight of sorrow for Mary that she didn’t know where to start. Her eyes were stinging with unshed tears that were threatening to spill: tears of sorrow, pain and loss.

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