Chapter 1

 

The priest pulled the Nissan Micra up close to the gate set in the tall barbed wire surmounted stone wall. He pushed at a button on the small box offered at face height by the driver’s window. A red light lit up but nothing happened for thirty seconds, then a voice answered.

“Hello?”

“It’s Father Purkiss and Sister Veronica. We phoned earlier for an appointment.”

“Oh yes. Drive to the house.” The voice had an incredibly throaty, almost purring quality. The gate whirred smoothly open and the car jerked into motion before smoothing into a steady ten mile an hour pace.

Father Purkiss looked at the handsome nun by his side and said. “Well Sister, I wonder what sort of poor tortured soul needs this sort of fortress.”

“We shouldn’t judge too harshly, Father, she sounds a sad creature.”

It was impossible to see their destination from the gate for the roadway twisted and turned through several small copses before breaking clear in to open ground a hundred yards or so before the house itself. It was a jewel of a house. Made of soft yellow stone, even on this grey day, it managed to have a warm golden ambience. Not large for the size of grounds it commanded, but it, and the simple well kept gardens surrounding, showed that care and love had been lavished upon everything.

They climbed out onto the gravel drive and approached the solid looking light oak door. Their first thought as the door opened was a shared one.

She’s a cat!

The girl, for she almost didn’t seem old enough to be classed as woman, had opened the door to greet them before they had the chance to knock. The heavy grey silk of the wrap around dress she wore set off her white skin and rich dark red hair to perfection. Small, fine boned, if it hadn’t been for her very obvious breast development she would have been deemed petite. She wore shoes with extremely high heels and Sister Veronica estimated that had she not been wearing them, she would have had difficulty making five foot two.

The girl looked at them at her door. She would not have been surprised at their comparison of her with a cat but would they have understood?  In turn she envisioned them as two sombre black crows fluttering down to peck and poke at her. Not a warm picture. She backed away, opening the door wider and the priest tried hard not to be mesmerised by the gentle bounce of the big high breasts under the silk.

“Come in. It’s too sorry a day to stand in the cold.” It was the same purring voice as on the security speaker. They followed closely, the priest in the lead. Both had strove not to stare but she was a beautiful if slightly bizarre sight. Both their minds now replayed their first close up view of this exotic creature. The priest, though, had an added distraction of firm round ass swaying and mobile under the loose grey skirt in front of him. For a moment confidence in his vow of celibacy was threatened and he felt a little less under control.

It was the face, though, that had fascinated the Nun. In particular the large almond shaped eyes of vivid amber had grabbed the attention. Slanted and feline in appearance, their similarity had been exaggerated by heavy black make-up that completely covered the upper lids and a thick black line underlined the lower lid. That line started at a large black spot in the corner close to her nose and continued along the natural curve of the eye under the lower lashes, extending the upward curve, finishing an inch or so later in a feathery downward droop that almost touched the extensions to her eyebrows. These, black mascara-ed, had been extended into a vigorous upward sweep. A neat, slightly snub nose increased the cat-like appearance as, curiously enough, did the full slightly bruised looking red lips. Or was it those slightly long feral eye teeth? wondered the young nun. Whatever it was, with those high cheek bones it made her look the human equivalent of a Siamese cat.

They followed her into the living room where a big fire cheered the room and a ready tea tray awaited them.

“I got tea ready whilst you were driving up. Would you like some whilst you tell me why you wanted to see me?” She sat straight and erect in a wing-backed chair and commenced to pour the tea.

“Thank you.” The priest took the fine bone china cup with one meaty hand and passed it to Sister Veronica. “It concerns Ben Good.”

The teapot ceased to pour and it was as though for an instant she had turned to stone. Then she continued but now there was a look of strain on her face.

“We’re responsible for the spiritual welfare of the inmates at the Institute for the Criminally Insane at Creadle in Yorkshire.” He glanced at the nun. “Sister Veronica here ministers to those women of the faith for whom it is not fit for me to visit.”

Sister Veronica sat sipping her tea, free for the first time to study the girl without appearing to do so. My Lord, she is top heavy! She was conscious, even self-conscious, of her own heavily strapped breasts she felt too large for a solid sensible nun such as she to possess. She flushed at the thoughts, it felt wrong to think of another woman and herself with such, physical intimacy.

The priest cleared his throat and continued. “We have come to realise that an injustice is being perpetrated.” He sounded slightly pompous now. “Mr Good aroused our particular notice because of his deep and heart-felt conversion to the true faith.” He smiled smugly. “It was later when discussing this good and fervent Christian with the institute’s head that he let it slip that, in his view, Mr Good was either totally cured or had never been insane.” He coughed self consciously before continuing. “This echoed both Sister Veronica’s view and my own.”

The nun nodded vigorously in agreement.

The red headed girl drank her tea slowly but avoided any eye contact.

“On applying on his behalf for a review with the aim of obtaining his release we were informed that there was no possibility of this. Now or ever.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and found himself looking into steady grey eyes that seemed to bore through him. “On quizzing Mr Good we were informed that he was aware of this and furthermore that you were the only one who could ever effect his release.” He made a dramatic pause and looked soulfully into her unsettling eyes. “He would not say what had happened to get him committed but that only by convincing you to speak the truth could he ever hope for freedom.” He leaned forward and grabbed her hands as they clasped the cup. “Sister, speak out for your soul’s sake and give this good man his freedom!”

The stillness and silence continued for what long moments and Sister Veronica could hear her own pulse beat loud in her ears. She prayed that God would come to this poor creature and that the handsome Ben, who had caused her a few Hail Mary’s of penitential prayer for lewd thoughts, would be freed.

“Fuck off!” The words “Fuck off!” had caused the girl’s purr to change to a growl and for an instant Father Purkiss thought this was one pussy that was about to scratch and bite. His hands leapt away from hers.

“Sister!” exclaimed Sister Veronica.

“I hope Ben Good rots in hell for all eternity.”           

“But why? What, daughter, could he ever have done to cause such hatred? Is it not time to forgive and free your soul from this burden?”

The silence seemed to go on for a long time and then she spoke.

“OK Father. I can see that the only way I’m going to both satisfy you and possibly get you off my back, is to let you read a diary written not that far in the past. The condition in allowing you to read it is that you treat it as though I were of your congregation and what is in there treated as if it were under the seal of the confessional!

“For reasons of protection, Father,” He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that, “I have spare copies so that both of you can read it simultaneously.” Neither of the visitors knew what to make of this enigmatic attitude but only sat, silent and embarrassed, at the anger they had aroused. The girl looked pointedly at Sister Veronica. “That is, if you can stand being shocked.”

“We are not immune to the world’s sins. And I too will respect you confidence.” It was a prim phrase learnt at the nunnery.

“OK, then.”

 

She watched the small Nissan disappear down the drive. She hadn’t offered them a second cup of tea. The chill air was making her nipples erect. A hand came around her and held her left nipple between thumb and forefinger. It wasn’t overtly arousing, more a familiar and acceptable action from her partner but even so she felt her body quicken.

“I listened to the start of their conversation. It made me angry.” His voice rasped deep and husky, “I hope you sent them away with a flea in their ear.”

“I gave them the diary. They’ll read them tonight and return them tomorrow.” His hand had slipped inside her wrap-around skirt and was stroking her luscious naked buttocks.

“It’s yours to do as you wish but I hope we can trust them.”

“We have to trust someone some time.”

Ughh!” His grunt was noncommittal but by this time his hand had captured a large breast and was fondling it. She was breathing heavily, leaning back upon him and making soft mewing sounds of excitement. Before her feelings overcame rational thought, she considered the two innocents whom she had given the diary to read and of the innocent girl who no longer existed.