Last Chance Saloon - Marian Keyes [107]
Katherine looked at him with indulgent amusement. ‘She’s down in Hampshire.’
‘What line is that on?’
JaneAnn prayed incessantly. She had a set of rosary beads in her hands at all times and frequently visited the chapel in the hospital, often accompanied by Sandro. In an attempt to win her approval, he had told her many elaborate lies about his religious experiences and his visits to Catholic shrines. But it was when he’d hinted heavily that he’d actually had visions that he’d realized he’d bitten off more than he could chew.
‘Child!’ JaneAnn had gasped, clutching his collar fervently. ‘You’ll have to tell your parish priest. It’s your duty. You can’t keep this to yourself.’
Sandro had set about back-pedalling with great haste and managed to talk JaneAnn down by saying that the visions were probably just due to too much to drink. She was so disappointed that, to compensate, he upped the time spent in the hospital chapel with her.
‘With all the praying the pair of you are doing for Fintan,’ Katherine said, ‘I’d say we’re in with a fighting chance.’
‘Not at all.’ JaneAnn sniffed. ‘I wouldn’t say our prayers are having their normal impact because that chapel in the hospital is only a non-denominational one.’
‘But isn’t it all the one God?’ Tara made the mistake of asking.
JaneAnn cast her a disgusted look and murmured, ‘Learn your catechism, child. Tell her, Sandro.’
On Friday morning as they left Katherine’s flat, JaneAnn dropped a bombshell. ‘I’m dying for Sunday,’ she said, greedily. ‘A good oul’ Mass. I might even go a couple of times.’
Katherine and Tara gave each other horrified looks. Mass? Neither of them had any idea where Katherine’s local Catholic church was. For the first time in days they were worried about something other than the biopsy result. As soon as they could they went into a head-to-head outside Fintan’s ward.
‘Why don’t I just tell her I don’t know?’ Katherine suggested.
‘No.’ Tara was adamant. ‘The shock might kill her. She needs fixed points in her world right now. Finding out you’re not a bumlick would be too much for her.’
Liv came striding up the corridor, her hair streaming behind her. She looked at the anxious huddle and faltered. ‘The result of the biopsy already?’
‘No, not that bad. But bad enough. JaneAnn needs a Catholic church for Sunday Mass.’
Liv looked puzzled, ‘But what’s wrong with St Dominic’s? On Maiden Road – just around the corner from you?’
Tara and Katherine were stunned. How did Liv know? ‘You weirdo,’ Tara complained. ‘Next you’ll be telling me you go sometimes.’
‘I do.’
‘But you’re not a Catholic.’
‘So what? In my search for happiness I also frequent synagogues, mosques, Quaker meeting houses, Hindu temples, the Samaritans’ head office, psychiatrists’ couches and Harvey Nichols. And I’ve always been given a warm welcome. Except maybe in Harvey Nichols,’ she added.
‘You wouldn’t happen to know the names of any of the priests?’ Katherine chanced her luck.
‘Of course. Father Gilligan. Tell him I said hi. I must go to the ladies’. See you in a minute.’
When Liv arrived back, all the chairs around the bed were gone. Milo stood up. ‘Have my seat.’
‘No, I couldn’t.’
While Milo demurred, JaneAnn suggested, ‘Sit on Milo’s knee, then.’
Liv went tomato-red with embarrassment. ‘I’m too large.’
Milo seemed amused by this. ‘I’m large too. Plenty of room here,’ and slapped his bedungareed knee.
‘Really, I couldn’t.’
‘Go on,’ Fintan urged weakly.
‘Do,’ Tara and Katherine chorused. ‘Do, Liv, do.’
So, with a scorching face, Liv gingerly placed herself on Milo’s knee, while everyone nudged each other.
JaneAnn was later heard to mutter, ‘When God closes one door he opens another. I’ll see some good comes out of this visit if it’s the last thing I do.’
Even the most hardened atheists among them – and there was stiff competition – found themselves praying on Friday as the deadline approached.
Fintan had been told to expect the results at about four o’clock. So from two onwards all eyes were trained on the