July by Gabrielle Lord Page B

old-fashioned copper cooking utensils and the counters were stacked with piles of clean plates. The kitchen smelled of a thousand meals.
    ‘You’re lucky I saw you when I did. If I hadn’t been shutting the gates, you’d still be out there in the rain, I’m afraid.’ She put out her right hand to shake mine. ‘I’m Sister Jerome. I fetch the shopping and answer the front door for the other sisters, among other things, of course. I drive the minibus, too. Where are you from, child?’
    ‘Here and there. I sort of—camp out.’
    ‘You’ve been sleeping rough? In this cold weather? Where’s your mother? You look like you could do with a good bath, and I’d better find something for you to wear. You’ll catch your death in those wet clothes!’
    She draped my wet hoodie over the back of the chair closest to the stove.
    ‘Thank you, Sister, but I have some extra clothes here,’ I said, digging around in my backpack to find something else to put on. ‘Could you please tell my great-aunt that I’m here and I would like to talk with her? It’s extremely important.’
    Sister Jerome had a worried look on her face.
    ‘Has anybody else been here?’ I asked. ‘ Wanting to speak with Millicent? Sorry, Sister Mary Perpetua?’
    ‘Certainly not. How come?’
    ‘I need to talk to her. To tell her something,’ I continued, ‘and ask her something about an important family matter.’
    ‘A family matter? We nuns don’t have families . We’re about the last of the old, enclosed orders. We still live by the old-fashioned rules. We leave that entire muddle behind us. As the great Saint Teresa said, “Not being able to have contact with your families is often a great blessing ”.’She gave me a stern look. ‘You know what families can be like.’
    She had a point, but I could never imagine turning my back on my family for good.
    ‘This is really important. Because there could be—a problem,’ I added, not wanting to alarm her.
    ‘What problem?’
    How could I tell her that any number of bloodthirsty criminals could be on their way here right now, trying to chase me down, without a care for anyone standing in their way? She’d never believe me.
    ‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘I’m just really looking forward to seeing her.’

    Sister Jerome showed me the outdoor bathroom and I washed up a bit in a big laundry near the kitchen. I paused to look at my reflection in a speckled mirror. My long, lank, dirty blond hair looked darker than ever.
    Five minutes later I was sitting in the kitchen of the Manresa Convent in a dry grey sweater from my backpack, while Sister Jerome cut me a jam sandwich and made hot chocolate. I liked the way she locked the kitchen door behind me as I returned. I was in a holy, stone fortress, surrounded by a spiky cactus moat, a group ofnuns, and strong locks. This had to be the ultimate safe house.
    ‘Now you wait there and eat up,’ she said, pointing to the sandwich, ‘while I go and find out what’s to be done with you.’
    I tucked into it, greedily. From somewhere I could hear the sound of chanting and I guessed it was the nuns.
    By the time I’d finished eating and was half-way through my drink, Sister Jerome was back. She frowned solemnly.
    ‘I’m afraid you are going to be disappointed. I didn’t want to mention it earlier, but I fear you have come all this way for nothing.’
    ‘For nothing? Please don’t stop me from speaking to my great-aunt!’ I pleaded. ‘This is way too important!’
    ‘Nobody’s going to stop you, Cal,’ she said with a gentle hand on my shoulder. ‘There’s something you should know.’
    My heart sank. I waited for her to tell me that Millicent was dead.
    ‘Sister Mary Perpetua—your great-aunt—she doesn’t speak any more. In fact, she hasn’t spoken for an exceptionally long time. I think it was about twenty years ago that she stopped.’
    ‘What?’ I asked, putting the mug of hot chocolate down. ‘Why?’ I was torn between