Walk Anissa to her car

You leave Krystal in the pub. She doesn’t look so disappointed. You can see her already assessing the other men in the saloon bar.

Outside evening is darkening, night rapidly descending.

“You two alright walking in this?” you ask the two women. They both say they will be, but you’re not convinced. It would be gentlemanly for you to escort them. Except Abigail isn’t going back to the school and Anissa is. Apparently, she walked to school this morning, and her flat is in the other direction.

You can’t escort them both, so you decide on Anissa.

“Back at home, I could walk quiet streets in the middle of the night and feel safe. But I’ve never got used to how busy everything is here,” Anissa tells you.

“You think this town is busy? You should see the city, or even more London. This place is dead compared to them.” That’s true. The city centre was always awash with students celebrating being alive. Friday nights it was filled with drunken singing and fighting and general revelry, a reason you’d rarely gone out on Friday nights. Samantha had liked the buzz. You hadn’t. You still don’t. You prefer this town. The streets are dark and empty, with only the occasional car driving past.

“Oui, I know. But this is busier than my village. The streets would only be this busy back home straight after evening mass.”

“Evening mass?”

“Oui. Evening mass, most of the village would go to evening mass. You, you British, you spend your evenings in the pub. That is your church.”

“Well, you were joining us.”

“I would go to evening mass, but St Paul’s doesn’t hold one on Friday. I asked when I arrived, but the priest told me they don’t get the attendance. Back home there’s a mass every day, and several on Sunday. Here there’s one on Sunday and one on special days.

{if Church > 0}

“That’s St Paul’s Roman Catholic Church?”

“Oui, you know it?”

“I know where it is, I’ve never been in.”

She nods as if this confirms all her fears.

{endif}

“You take your religion very seriously.”

“Oui. Without religion what else is there. I see you unreligious people, you agnostics and you atheists, so many in this country, and I see people who are aimless, have no meaning to their lives. God gives meaning. The Church gives meaning. Without it we’d all be lost. Look at you, Monsieur Smith, what were you doing before you started teaching? Studying in university, drifting. You said you didn’t want to return here, but you did. You don’t know why you’re here. I do. I’m here, because God sent me here.”

“To do what?”

“To teach. To guide young girls to God. To show them the good in the world, when the secular offers only bad.”

“You think the Catholic Church is a **** for good. I can’t believe that, when it’s behind so much that is bad. Look at all those scandals it’s been involved in.”

“What scandals.”

“You know, the priests are meant to be celibate, but many are not, and some of them, let’s just say their tastes are inappropriate, no, downright evil.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, there’s tons of stories of priests abusing children.”

“No, I know nothing about that. Lies, surely.”

“No, tons of stories. There was that movie about it, what was it? Spotlight.”

“A story only.”

“No, it’s based on a true story, how the Catholic Church knew about these priests who did illegal acts and tried to cover it up. There’s been cardinals sacked for such behaviour.”

“American movie? Well, it might happen in America, but not here, in Europe.”

“No, Americans are no different from anyone else, well crazier maybe, but these kind of things happen here, and they happen everywhere. You can’t deny that the Catholic Church has a history of immorality. Not just the Spanish Inquisition. There’s been popes that no-one could call holy. I’m not an expert on that period, but I’m certain I remember popes who ran brothels in the Vatican.”

She pauses, before she replies. “That was in the past. The modern church has corrected such sinful behaviour.”

You’re not convinced. The modern church has corrected blatant sinful behaviour, but not every sinful behaviour. After all, half of what it calls sin, you view as natural. Like sex.

But there’s no more time to talk, because you’re back at the school. Anissa’s car is the only car left in the carpark, an old green Renault Clio. She offers to drive you home, but you decline. You’d rather walk. You watch her get in. You watch her as she takes several attempts to start the car. You wave to her as she drives away. Finally, you head home.