Love Over Scotland - Alexander Hanchett Smith [51]
“Not at all,” said the nun. “I don’t mind being asked. And, yes, it is true. I’m a member of a religious order.”
The older woman – older by ten years, perhaps, if that –
looked at Pat. She was due at a tutorial in five minutes, but something told her that she should not go, that she should talk to this rather innocent-looking young woman. At any time, in any place, a soul may be in need of help. She had been taught that, and she had learned, too, that the requests of those in need often came at the worst possible time.
“Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me?” she asked.
“If you wanted to talk, then we could do that over coffee. It’s easier that way, isn’t it.”
“The Elephant House? “ said Pat. “Half an hour’s time?”
“Yes,” said the nun. “Deo volente.”
34. In the Elephant House
They sat in the Elephant House, Pat and the nun, who had introduced herself simply as Sister Connie. They were at the very table which Pat had occupied with Wolf on their first proper meeting, and as Connie waited for the coffee at the counter, Pat thought about the strange turn of events that had brought her to this. One day I was here with a boy called Wolf, she said to herself, and now here I am with a nun called Connie. Why is that so strange?
Sister Connie brought over the coffee and set the two mugs down on the table. “I suppose you’re wondering about me,” she said. “I suppose you’re asking yourself about how I can possibly be a nun.” She paused, stirring her coffee with the tip of her spoon. “Am I right? Are you wondering that?”
“Yes,” said Pat. “It had crossed my mind.”
“And quite reasonably,” said Sister Connie. “After all, how many members of religious orders do you see these days? Very few. I believe that it was very different not all that long ago. There were several convents in Edinburgh. More in Glasgow.”
“I suppose it seems unusual,” said Pat. “At least, it seems unusual to my generation.”
Sister Connie nodded. “And why do you think that is?”
Pat shrugged. “Because . . .” She did not know how to say it. It was because of the me factor, she thought; because of the fact that nobody now was prepared to give anything up for the sake of . . . well, what was it for the sake of? For the sake of a God that most people no longer believed existed? Was that it?
She noticed that Sister Connie had blue eyes, and that these eyes were strangely translucent.
“Why don’t I tell you what happened?” said Sister Connie.
“Would you like me to do that?”
Pat nodded. Lifting her mug of coffee to her lips, she took a sip of the hot liquid. The feeling of strangeness was still there, but she felt comfortable in the company of Sister Connie, as one feels comfortable with one for whom the demands of ego are quiescent. “Please tell me,” she said.
In the Elephant House 107
Sister Connie sat back in her chair. “I was a very ordinary schoolgirl,” she said. “Just like everybody else. When I was fourteen, I wanted to be a dancer. I used to go to a modern dance class, and ballet too, and I was serious about dancing exams. I thought that it would be a wonderful thing to do. I imagined being picked for the Royal Academy of Dance, or somewhere like that, and appearing in London. I really thought that it would be that easy.
“But then something happened – something which changed the direction of my life – changed my life, actually. It’s odd, isn’t it, how one little incident, one conversation, one experience, one thing you see or hear, can change everything? That’s odd, don’t you think?”
Pat thought of her own life. Had there been something which had changed the whole course of her life? Yes. There had been. There had been something on that gap year, something which had happened in Australia, which had done that. If she had not gone to that particular interview, if she had not seen the notice in the West Australian, then she would not have met . . . Well, it would all have been so different.
“We were from Gourock,” said Sister Connie. “We lived in a flat which looked out over the Firth. We were on the top floor, right up at the