Bad Catholics by James Green

down and began to pray.
    â€˜May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.’ Then, ‘The first Sorrowful Mystery of the Rosary, the Agony in the Garden, Our Father who art in heaven …’
    The buzzing of the flies swarming on the corpse woke her. At that moment, the door opened and Captain Nduma came in and stood over her.
    â€˜Good morning, Sister. We will soon be leaving. The lorries are being loaded.’
    â€˜Is it time?’ She got up awkwardly.
    â€˜Time, Sister?’
    â€˜For me.’
    â€˜I have been thinking about that. One dead Sister, more or less, matters very little. If I am ever called to answer for my actions, to someone other than God I mean, then a Sister alive here when I leave may turn out to be more useful than a dead one.’
    â€˜You are not going to kill me?’
    â€˜On balance I think not. But don’t be here when I return. I will be back in a week, two at the most. Don’t be here then.’
    â€˜Isn’t that information of value to the insurgents, Captain?’
    He grinned. ‘What insurgents? There are no insurgents in this area, everyone knows that. You reassured me of that yourself.’
    â€˜Why are you letting me live?’
    Captain Nduma paused.
    â€˜The Sisters who taught me all spoke like you. They were Irish, I think. Let us just say you have reaped where others have sown.’ He snapped to attention and gave a smart salute. ‘Thank you for your co-operation and hospitality. You have the government’s thanks, you have done your duty. Stay in this office for at least one hour after you hear the last truck leave. At least one hour. Do you have a watch?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜You shouldn’t have. The sergeant should have taken it. Give it to me please.’
    Philomena took off her watch and handed it over. Captain Nduma took it, smiled, gave a casual friendly salute and left.
    A few minutes later the noise of the flies was drowned as the engines roared into life. There was some shouting and clattering of boots and then the convoy moved off. Then there was only the noise of the flies and silence everywhere else. Philomena put the chair back in the corner and went and sat behind the desk. She opened the top right-hand drawer and took out a worn, black-covered book, opened it at a page marked with a thin blue ribbon, and began to say the morning prayers of the Divine Office of the Church.
    Four days later, Brother Thad returned in his Land Rover and found her unconscious on the floor of her office. She was lying next to a large dark stain. Over the next two days he nursed her back to sufficient health to travel. Little water and no food had weakened her but had done no permanent damage. They left what remained of the convent school in the early morning. Nothing in it was unbroken, every door, pane of glass, partition, and piece of furniture was smashed, the corrugated roofing had been removed from every room except the office. What couldn’t easily be broken, like blankets, had been burnt. When the rains came the building would begin an irreversible process of decay and quite soon it would be cheaper and easier to build a new school than repair this one. Brother Thad and Philomena said prayers together where she had buried the young nun on the day the soldiers had left.
    As the Land Rover rocked and bumped along the road she reflected on the fact that he would have had to bury her as well as the young Sister, had Captain Nduma been as good as his word. Then perhaps she would have been still and at peace, in a blessed and blank oblivion, with no more duty to do, no sickly half-belief to protect and no empty faith to follow into an uncertain future. She would be at peace and, if it was true after all that there was a God, perhaps at home.

FIVE
    Paddington, February 1995
    After his visit to Bart’s Inspector Deal sat with his sergeant in the car thinking about the