The Poisoning Angel by Jean Teulé Page A

up.
    Squeak, squeak!
    â€˜Is it the Ankou’s cart?’
    The girl from Plouhinec turned round. There was nothing behind her. The servant continued on her way.
    â€˜Oh, it’s me then.’

Auray
    Squeak, squeak!
    ‘What’s wrong with you, Hélène, that you keep making that noise like a squeaking axle with your teeth while clutching your forehead? Headache?’
    ‘It’s because, Mother Superior, I so much want to cook for all the Sisters of Charity of Saint-Louis at the Convent of the Eternal Father.’
    ‘Oh, no, don’t start that again, Hélène. For more than a year now I’ve been telling you, we already have a cook.’
    ‘Sister Athanase, let me take her place just for one meal. It’s really important to me.’
    The Mother Superior, a tall commanding presence in themiddle of the convent common room, stretched wide the sleeves of her severe dark brown habit and raised her voice to Thunderflower, who sat hunched up on a spartan bench.
    ‘Hélène, when you came to offer your services at the Eternal Father, just as we were looking for a maid, you accepted this job inside the convent because you wished to flee the outside world for a time, I don’t know why.’
    ‘Alas, I had an unfair reputation for making too much work for pharmacists by destroying human bodies … Well, I shall just have to nourish you in my own way. Without my recipes I’m fading away, withering like a flower deprived of water.’
    ‘I’m not going to give in to your whim, Hélène.’
    ‘You call it a whim when what I’m talking about is a mission.’
    ‘Oh, yes, the great mission of boiling three boxes of carrots and putting a dozen rabbits on a spit for a convent,’ guffawed the Mother Superior, her chest bouncing and, with it, the wooden cross hanging from a string around her neck.
    ‘I’d make baby Jesuses out of sugar for you to swallow as communion wafers.’
    ‘Don’t argue, Hélène. Get your broom and pail and go and clean the sisters’ rooms. You will also cut a new altar cloth from the fabric that abbé Olliveau brought yesterday. And don’t forget to dust the musical instrument in the common room. That’s something you too often forget. Quick now!’
    The servant went off, trailing her broom. From a window she noticed pine trees communing with the stars. It also seemed as if the wind were whispering messages.
    *
    ‘Sister Athanase, Sister Athanase! Look at my nun’s habit!’
    ‘What
are
you doing, Sister Sophie, with your breasts bare for all to see?’
    ‘I found my robe like this when I woke up, with two holes cut out of the chest.’
    ‘Sister Athanase, Sister Athanase! Look at me with my back to you.’
    ‘Have you taken leave of your senses, Sister Marie-Thérèse, coming to show me your bare backside in the common room? Turn round to face me! No, don’t turn round. Behind you, Christ hanging on the wall above the harmonium might see your buttocks.’
    ‘Someone’s cut a big round piece out of the lower back.’
    ‘Sister Athanase, a triangle’s been taken out of the front of my habit, right in the middle.’
    ‘And here’s Sister Augustine come to show me her bush and we’ve not even had breakfast yet. Will you turn round, Sister Marie-Thé— No, not you! Sister Augustine. Oh, my goodness gracious!’
    Once she had seen, among other things, a nun’s habit cut very short like a chemise and asserted, ‘You’ve got good legs, Sister Agnes,’ and heard Sister Madeleine claiming, ‘Don’t you think I look like an African savage with my habit all cut into strips?’ the Mother Superior could take no more of the crazy fashion parade, and exploded, ‘Go and get changed, all of you.’
    ‘We can’t, Sister Athanase. Not one outfit’s been spared.’
    ‘It’s because you don’t take proper care of your things!’ yelled the Mother Superior, holding her arms up to heaven, while Sister Denise, bare armed, warned her, ‘The bottom of your habit’sbeen crenellated. You look like a