The Brothers' Lot - Kevin Holohan [62]
McDermott ignored his apprentice and looked past him into the oratory. The floor and pews were littered with plaster and bits of wood, and the gaping hole in the ceiling gave the place a look of war-torn desolation.
“Brother Loughlin said not to touch anything,” added McRae
“I know. I saw him on my way in. Why don’t you go and do the toilets?” growled McDermott.
“Ah, I don’t think they need to be done. I gave them a good going over on Wednesday so I’d say they’ll be fine. Used that new stuff with the extra ammonia I did. It’s a power for the germs, so it is. You see, they didn’t even know germs existed until—”
“Look! Just go and do them. You can talk to yourself all you like while you’re at it!”
“Take it easy. Don’t go giving yourself a heart attack. I’ll go do the toilets if that’s what you want. You should make yourself a cup of tea and calm down,” McRae said.
McDermott stared viciously at him.
McRae thought the better of saying anything more and scampered off down the stairs to get his mop and bucket. McDermott put his foot up on the pew that Brother Loughlin had hastily pulled across the doorway and whistled softly at the mess.
“So, can you fix that up, Mr. McDermott?”
McDermott spun around to find Brother Loughlin standing behind him. He hated when they snuck up on him like that. Brother Loughlin was baggy-eyed and unshaven.
“Me?”
“Yes. Of course Mr., uhm, uhm, McWhatsisname could help.”
“McRae. Eh, I don’t think so, Brother. That’s a job for proper tradesmen. You need a joiner to replace those joists and a plasterer to do the ceiling.”
“Mmmm, that presents a slight problem,” mused Brother Loughlin.
“What sort of problem?”
“Well, after our little incident last night, the Brothers feel that it would be wisest to, how shall we say, keep all strangers off the premises. There will be no outside workmen allowed into the school while the miracle is being investigated. You will be taking care of things for a while.”
McDermott looked from Brother Loughlin’s face to the hole in the oratory ceiling and back to the Brother’s face. “You must be joking,” he stumbled.
“Not in the least,” replied Brother Loughlin. “I’d better get back downstairs. I’m expecting someone. You have a think about fixing the ceiling and let me know what materials you’ll be needing. You could take another look at that roof while you’re at it.”
McDermott stared open-mouthed after the seemingly possessed figure of Brother Loughlin that bounded down the stairs toward the yard. Staying up almost all night getting the Brothers to return the relics they had pillaged from the oratory so they could be photographed and logged seemed to have given him extraordinary energy.
Mrs. Broderick knocked gently on Brother Loughlin’s office door.
“Come in!” roared the Brother imperiously.
“There are two men here to see you. They say they are from the Diocesan Investigator’s office,” said Mrs. Broderick as she poked her head in the door, her acid tone implying that the two gentlemen looked like total gangsters from some made-up office.
“Ah, good! Show them in!”
Mrs. Broderick offered a fierce frown of disapproval and turned to the men. “You can go in now,” she told them reluctantly.
When Brother Loughlin and the two visitors emerged from the office ten minutes later, the men had opened their coats to reveal that they were not just from the Diocesan Investigator’s office but they were also men of the cloth. It had to be conceded in Mrs. Broderick’s defense that in their overcoats and fedoras they still looked a little like gangsters.
Brother Loughlin ushered the two priests out in front of him. “I’ll be in the oratory with Father Cronin and Father Mulcahy if anyone is looking for me, Mrs. Broderick.”
Mrs. Broderick snorted bad-humoredly and pursed her lips. “And if no one is looking for you, where will you be?” she muttered derisively, taking tiny pedantic revenge on Brother Loughlin’s suspect grammar. Such were the little moments that kept her going.
Spud