9
M arie lies beside me, her hair spread on the pillow, cheeks flushed, mouth red and swollen from kissing. No man could resist her, looking the way she does right now. Myself least of all I just came and already I need to be inside her again .
For weeks now, weˇve done this. By day, we are scrupulously careful. I donˇt look at her and we donˇt speak. By night, we are far less so. Itˇs a risk we shouldnˇt take but good sense abandons me when she arrives at my door. Want for her is like a sickness, one that only gets worse each time I give into the cure .
My lips press to her neck, to the tiny throb of her pulse. I know from experience that she will be prepared for more even before I am. And Iˇm halfway there already .
My hand runs over her breast and the nipple tightens. Itˇs a miracle, the way her body responds to mine, and mine to hers. I still have moments of guilt about abandoning my vocation, but when I see how it is with us, I feel certain she was always Godˇs plan for me .
¨Have you had any news?〃 she asks suddenly .
¨News?〃 It sounds as if Iˇm trying a foreign word for the first time, still uncertain of its meaning. My brain is only concerned with her smooth skin and her red lips and a desire to be inside her .
¨About a replacement.〃 Her voice is cautious, edged with hope .
I wish I had the answer she seeks. Iˇve written the archdiocese twice, asking to be relieved from my position. But there are not enough priests in France right now, and the war has shut down all the seminaries, so none are coming .
¨They say thereˇs no one available,〃 I reply. ¨I promise I wonˇt wait for them forever. But jobs are scarce too...itˇs not merely a matter of being replaced here. I need a way to support us .〃
All my years of schooling are proving absolutely useless. The only thing Iˇm qualified to do, other than the priesthood, is teach...and with the war on, no schools are hiring. I think Iˇve written every school in England to no avail. Thereˇs always the army, but not only would it go against everything I believe in, it would separate me from the one reason Iˇm going through this at all .
She rolls toward me. My eyes flicker to the curve of her bare hip and my hand follows. ¨I...have money,〃 she says haltingly. ¨I could support us .〃
Iˇm torn between laughter and confusion. I would never mock her intellect, but how could this possibly be true? The Durand farm is a broken-down relic. Theyˇve only a few cows, two horses .
¨Marie...everything belongs to Henri.〃 And even what he has barely seems to keep them afloat .
Her teeth slide to her lower lip. ¨Not everything. I canˇt say much about it, so you will have to take my word for it now. I can get as much money as we need .〃
I donˇt believe in witchcraft, but I know thereˇs something different about her, and Amelie as well. They know things. If she says she can do something, no matter how unreal it seems, I believe her. ¨I canˇt allow my wife to support me, Marie. Iˇll find something, I swear it. I just need more time .〃
¨Wouldnˇt you rather spend that time together?〃 she asks, pressing her rosebud mouth to my chest .
I groan. A serious conversation and yet Iˇm hard as a school boy, simply from her proximity. I pull her closer, needing to feel the pressure of her skin against mine. ¨I canˇt discuss this rationally when youˇre naked .〃
She laughs. ¨I know. Thatˇs why Iˇm asking now. Shall I put my clothes back on ?〃
I roll her to her back and raise her arms above her head. She laughs and I grow harder still. Sheˇs irresistible in moments like this. ¨No,〃 I reply, pushing her thighs apart. ¨Not just yet .〃
I lead morning mass the next day, as always. I can rationalize what Marie and I are doing, but during mass I still feeling spasms of guilt. Iˇm just not sure what I can be expected to do instead. Iˇve asked to be relieved of my position, and my only other options are to leave the town with no one here to see to its poor and elderly, or to stop seeing Marie until the situation is resolved. Iˇd have to be a far stronger man than I am to do the latter, and as this wears on, Iˇm seriously contemplating the former. There isnˇt a day that goes by that I donˇt imagine taking Marie and leaving. But that fantasy always leads to an image of us next winter, if I havenˇt found work. I picture Marie with nothing to eat, in threadbare clothes, and reality sets in .
Iˇve got to find a job. There must be something .
Mass ends and I walk around the back of the church to go to parish hall, though I have little desire to be there. Today is Bible study, which means I will not see Marie until tonight if I am lucky .
To my surprise, a crowd is forming outside the hall doors .
Itˇs March but the air is still bitter and the ruddy-faced parishioners look at me with resentment, as if I made them stand out here intentionally. Irene has normally unlocked the building and set up for the dayˇs classes by now. Sheˇs never failed to arrive or at least send word in all the years Iˇve known her .
¨Is Irene ill?〃 I ask .
There are shrugs and averted eyes. No one seems to know. I unlock the doors and enlist everyone to help me get the chairs set up for class. They seem reluctant to help, which is fitting as Iˇm equally reluctant to teach. The words that used to fill me no longer bring the comfort they did. Yes, itˇs because of Marie, but that doesnˇt mean itˇs her fault. Itˇs simply that Iˇm reconsidering things-wondering if itˇs wise to put so much faith in words on a page if they contradict whatˇs inside my heart. God, after all, created both. Why should words written thousands of years ago be given more weight than a heart not three decades old ?
I get through the class, gritting my teeth. The mood this morning is odd, everyone strangely quiet and a bit sullen. Weˇve just broken for lunch when Anne, my secretary, comes in. Her face is pale, eyes wide. ¨Father,〃 she says, her voice mute with urgency, ¨can you come with me ?〃
I follow her outside and then I see it the large black Renault driven by Father Etienne, who has always reminded me more of a mob boss from American films than a priest, and his job is similar: bully those who arenˇt doing what the monsignor wants and extract information. I imagine sitting through confession with him is heavy on punishment, and meting it out is undoubtedly his favorite part of the experience .
I thank Anne and walk inside, going to my office, where he is already waiting .
¨Shut the door,〃 he says .
Iˇve tried hard to fight the masculine part of me that is inclined toward aggression and belligerence, but his rudeness grates on me and Iˇm in no mood to be generous. I ignore him and take the seat behind my desk. ¨What can I help you with, Father ?〃
He rises, jaw clenched, and slams the door shut himself .
¨Itˇs come to our attention that youˇre involved with a woman here, one Marie-Therese Durand,〃 he says, his disgust palpable .
I hold myself still. If Iˇve tarnished Marieˇs reputation, I will never forgive myself. But perhaps he is bluffing. There were rumors about us long before Iˇd ever touched her. There have always been rumors about Marie, none of them true. A woman as lovely as she is shines too brightly for a town of this size .
¨Iˇm surprised youˇve nothing better to do than investigate idle gossip,〃 I reply. ¨Thereˇs a war going on, after all. The town has chosen to make Miss Durand a scapegoat. It would take me an hour to list the ridiculous accusations that have been made against her .〃
Etienne smiles. Itˇs not a pleasant expression, but the sort of smile meant to inspire fear. ¨Then perhaps you can tell me whose clothes I found in the woods behind your room,〃 he replies, and he reaches into the large bag beside him and pulls out a green wool dress Marie wore a few days prior. I have no idea how it could have turned up in the woods, but I feel the first, crushing strain of fear. I remind myself that Henri would have destroyed the town by now if any harm befell her last night on the way home. But someone must have snuck into her room to steal that dress, an idea that sickens me .
¨Youˇve assumed much based on a piece of clothing in the woods,〃 I reply. ¨I wonder what youˇd say if you found a manˇs boots or a childˇs toy? Would those be some transgression of mine or Miss Durandˇs as well ?〃
¨I have confirmation that itˇs her dress and sheˇs been seen leaving your room,〃 he says with a sneer. ¨Sheˇs obviously the reason youˇve asked to leave the church .〃
¨I have asked to leave the church,〃 I reply, ¨and therefore I canˇt imagine why you think I would sit here and listen to these spurious accusations. Iˇve done you a favor by staying on until you find my replacement. I donˇt need to be thanked but I certainly donˇt have to listen to this . Iˇve asked to be let go and now Iˇm demanding it .〃
¨You are not in any position to make demands, Father Bertrand,〃 he replies. ¨If you care about the girl at all, youˇll do exactly as I say .〃
I freeze. Coming from him, I recognize it for the threat it is. ¨Or what ?〃
¨Or I canˇt guarantee her safety. The parties who lodged the complaint about you have promised no harm will come to her only if you leave now and follow our demands to the letter. If you refuse, well...I assure you, youˇll regret it .〃
¨Youˇd threaten an innocent young womanˇs life simply to get me come with you ?〃
¨Innocent?〃 He holds up the dress and arches a brow. ¨Hardly . Pack your things. We leave in ten minutes .〃
My mind races to come up with an alternate solution. If I could beat him and whoeverˇs behind this to the farm and convince Marie to leave...what then? The car is not mine. Weˇd be caught by the time we reached the train station. And itˇs possible theyˇd hurt Henri and Amelie in her place. Even if we could get away, Iˇd barely have enough money for a monthˇs room and board once we arrive. Sheˇs due to leave for England weeks from now. If I play the churchˇs little game, perhaps I can keep her safe for that long .
I scribble a quick note and drop it on Anneˇs desk as I say goodbye to her, praying she gets it to Marie. I thought I would miss this town when Marie and I left, but now I think Iˇd be glad to see it behind me if only I werenˇt leaving her here as well .