In The Name of The Father
Page 36
At first he was looked on as a bit of a joke by his farming neighbours. He was a complete amateur. But he learned fast and he listened. He worked on the house at a leisurely pace, sometimes hiring casual labour but mostly working by himself.
Every evening he would climb into his Land Rover and drive up the Vumba to the convent. He would wait, sitting on an old tree trunk, near the overgrown eighth green of the old golf course. The nun would join him there after evening prayers and they would talk for an hour or so, the nun in her starched white habit, the man in rough work clothes.
On March 9th, 1987, almost three years after he had arrived, the man finished the house. That afternoon a delivery van from a department store in Mutare arrived with furniture, including a large double bed. In the evening the man changed into his best suit and drove up to the convent. This time he parked in front of the main entrance. He climbed out of the Land Rover and waited. After ten minutes the woman came out. She was wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt. She carried a suitcase.
She was accompanied by the Mother Superior, who kissed her cheek before she climbed into the Land Rover. It was not a goodbye. The woman would be back the next day and the following days to continue her work. But not as a nun. In her suitcase was a Papal dispensation. This time genuine. The date on it was almost three years old. Three years given as penance for a sin she could not explain except to the man she was now joining.
She did not regret the three years.
Neither did he.