Crooked Vows Read Online Free Page B

are not useful ideas.’
    Macpherson sits back in his chair. ‘Well, then. How are we going to proceed?’ He is silent for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. He leans forward, his focus shifting down to Thomas’s face.
    â€˜Tell me. When you arrived at that little fishing place … what’s it called?
    â€˜Windy Harbour.’
    â€˜A splendid name, isn’t it? What clothes were you wearing then? And were you carrying anything with you?’
    â€˜What clothes? I was wearing trousers and a shirt like these. But no jacket, or collar. And no shoes. And …’ He falters, avoiding the older man’s eyes. Remembering reports of the extended search by police and others along the coast. Various items of men’s clothing found at locations east of Windy Harbour. Items of women’s clothing also. The reports didn’t specify what items of women’s clothing they were. Speculation bloomed. But nothing emerged from the search except speculation. Thomas does not want to think about what some people might have imagined. Especially non-Catholics. There is a half-minute of silence.
    â€˜Ah, well. Apart from clothes. Were you carrying anything?’
    Thomas seizes on the end of the difficult silence. ‘Yes. A haversack, a rucksack. One of those hikers’ rucksacks.’
    â€˜And inside it? What was inside?’
    â€˜Water bottles, some biscuits, a few nuts. That sort of thing.’
    â€˜I see. Just what you needed for a few days’ trek along the coast. How did you come to have these things? Were they yours?’
    Thomas shakes his head. ‘Not mine, no. I only know what I read in the papers. Later. And they talked to me—the police, I mean. Those things belonged to another passenger. He died in the crash. But how I came to be carrying them, I can’t remember anything about that.’
    â€˜So. Was there anything else? Especially anything that belonged to you. Anything personal.’
    â€˜One thing, yes. I had a book.’
    Thomas notices Macpherson sitting upright, eyes focusing on him more intently. ‘A book. Now what book was that? A novel?’
    The young man replies hesitantly. ‘It was Lives of the Saints . Butler’s Lives of the Saints . The abridged edition.’ And wonders, while answering, why he is adding that extra detail.
    â€˜Ah.’ Macpherson breathes out, a long breath. ‘Butler’s Lives of the Saints . I don’t believe I’ve read it. This is interesting. The one thing out of your personal belongings that you salvaged and carried for, was it, four days? It must be important to you. Can you explain why?’
    Thomas searches his mind for a way to begin. How to explain? A good Catholic would not need any explanation. Would certainly not ask for one.
    â€˜It’s not easy to—–’
    Macpherson cuts in sharply on the pause. ‘Try. Do your best to make me understand.’
    He begins, hesitantly, searching for the words to make this intelligible. To show how this fits into the larger pattern of traditional piety. The general obligations required of everyone: Mass attendance, confession, Holy Communion, abstinence from meat on Friday. The more optional rituals: benediction, novenas, the rosary, and among the seriously devout, a range of individual practices of piety. Some profess a special attachment or devotion to one or other of the saints: pray for his or her help in difficult situations, make the corresponding saint’s day a day of special celebration, and so on.
    Early in his time at the seminary he came to understand that something of this sort was expected of him: a sign of the personal piety that should mark a young man called to the service of God. What he didn’t understand was how he was to choose a private devotional practice like this. How did other people choose? How, also importantly, did they make their choices known? This was never