By PJ Connolly
Women's
Fiction, 414 pages
Cover art
by: Trisha FitzGerald
Blurb: One man, two women. How
did a young nun find herself part of such an arrangement?
When Susan marries the man who was once her priestly
confessor, tragedy and treachery lie in wait.
In an act of
supreme selflessness she makes a proposal whose sheer audacity may shock some
readers.
Excerpt: With my new place in
Donnybrook, the salary was going to come in handy. Plus, my new job title
wasn’t going to hurt my future in Maeve
or wherever I might find myself. In deference to my new status, Sarah began to consult me on matters of editorial
policy and I began to feel I had a personal stake in the future of the
magazine.
I shared all
this with Josie.
“Still, Sue, you can’t let your work be the be-all and
end-all of your existence. You need to get out more and enjoy yourself.”
I’d never
mentioned Finbarr to my sister. She knew nothing of his existence, which
explained her constant going on about the need for me to get out and meet
people. I wasn’t going to be able to keep it from her much longer.
“You don’t
think I’m enjoying myself as it is?”
“Get out to
a few dances. Meet a nice fella. You know what I’m talking about.”
“Bossy!”
“I don’t
want to see you turning into an old maid, Sue.
There’s more to life than work.”
I braced
myself to tell her. Like a nervous penitent before confession. She’d want to
know every detail, who he was, what he did, the breed and seed of him. There
was no way in the world I was going to be able to hide the fact he was a
priest.
“I’ll be
seeing Finbarr at the weekend.”
“Finbarr?” A
look of surprise mingled with curiosity. “I never heard you mention any
Finbarr. Fill me in, Sue, I want to
hear more.” She leant forward across the table, all eager.
“I’m going
out with this guy.”
“Well you’re
the smooth operator if ever there was. So go on, tell me all about him. Is it
serious?”
“We’ve been
seeing each other for the past few months.”
“And you
never said a word! Keep going, I’m dying to hear. Give me the whole works.
What’s the big secret? You don’t have to hide anything from your little sister,
you know. Haven’t I been saying all along you need a man in your life? What
does he do anyway?”
“He’s sort
of ...”
“Sort of
what?”
“He’s sort
of a priest.”
I watched
the colour drain from her cheeks.
“What do you
mean, sort of a priest? There’s no such thing as sort of a priest.”
“He doesn’t
practise as a priest any more. He works as a hospital chaplain. It’s not
important. He’s just such a nice guy. I’d love you to meet him.”
“You must be
out of your mind. God knows the world is full of men. Surely to God you didn’t
have to go and get yourself involved with a priest?”
I reached
across the table to press her hand, but she pulled away.
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