All Fall Down by Sally Nicholls

just Sir John mumbling to himself in Latin while we all carry on talking about the weather or the harvest or how ill Agnes Harelip’s new kerchief suits her, and how Edward Miller shamed Emma Baker by taking his new wife up to the altar before her to take the communion wafer.
    â€œAs some of you may have heard,” the chaplain says, “Sir John is unfortunately no longer able to perform his duties as priest of this parish.” There’s some grumbling at that, and a little laughter. “We’ll be sending a messenger to the bishop asking for a replacement to be sent. In these difficult times, we can’t know how long that will take” – the voices rise, then sink into silence again as the chaplain continues speaking – “so in the meantime, the monks from St Mary’s have agreed to come and help with the services.”
    The murmuring grows louder. In these difficult times . Priests are dying, that’s what he means.
    The chaplain hasn’t finished speaking yet. He’s only Alice’s cousin from Great Riding, but he knows how to read, and he’s holding a piece of vellum with writing on it.
    â€œThe Archbishop of York,” he says, “has asked us to tell you that any member of the laity – man or woman” – there’s a little ruffle of sound at that – “will have the power to hear confessions and grant absolution so long as this disaster is visited upon us .”
    Now no one is even pretending to be quiet. Women, allowed to hear confessions! Alice looks like somebody has slapped her. I’m filled with this odd mixture of shock and excitement, like the world is shifting and moving below my feet and I’m not sure where we’re all going to end up when it settles. I like it and I don’t at the same time. What sort of a world will it be, if people like me and Alice can do all the things that priests can?
    â€œFor shame ,” Alice is saying.
    â€œ Listen .” The chaplain is shouting over the hubbub. He has to shout twice to get everyone to calm down. “ Listen . As you know, many of the monks at St Mary’s are ordained priests. After speaking to us, they have agreed to help in our time of need. Any of you needing the services of a priest should come to the abbey, where they’ll do all that they can to help you.”
    Quiet. If anyone needs the last sacraments, that’s what he means. Like that poor little girl in Radulf’s house. The fear churns at my stomach. There are a few mutterings and shuffling of feet, and then Emma Baker calls out, “So you don’t support this abomination, then?”
    â€œWe hope that no one here will have need of it,” says the chaplain evasively.
    â€œThose foreigners in York can do what they want!” Edward Miller shouts. “It’s turning the world upside down, it is, and we’re not having it here!”
    I see Father shaking his head in frustration and I edge over to him.
    â€œWhat do you think?”
    Father sighs.
    â€œI think the world is turned upside down,” he says. “And no matter what Edward Miller thinks, we are going to have it here.”
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    For the first time I can remember, there’s something almost like quiet while the chaplain gives the service. Afterwards, he says we can all take communion. There’s a ripple of excitement through the church at that, and Alice starts muttering the Pater Noster to herself very fast in Latin.
    I know it’s horrible, but some evil part of me hopes I will have to hear someone’s confession. Not anyone in my family, but a stranger, maybe – a traveller from York, dying on the road. Geoffrey says you serve God by making the bread and bringing in the harvest, but giving absolution through God – what would that feel like? I might never get another chance again.
    When it’s my turn to receive the host, I shut my eyes and try to think holy thoughts, but it