Grace heard the reassuring crunch of wheels on the gravel drive and hastened over to the window, holding her breath, her eyes sparkling, in anticipation of seeing – drat, it wasn’t him, not his car.  As she sank down on the sofa that neatly fitted into the bay window, she heard the visitor be welcomed and taken away for a cup of tea.  She slowly released the breath from her body as she sat.  She heaved a sigh, but with a small smile on her face.  She knew his time-keeping could be a bit wayward – he’d get talking to someone and that would be it!  He’d turn up eventually.

After a few minutes of daydreaming Grace stood and slowly got back to the dusting before anyone noticed that she was running late with her chores.  Not that anyone would complain, time was not a major issue here, but Grace didn’t like to feel she wasn’t pulling her weight in getting the work done. 

She knew deep down that nothing would ever happen between them.  He barely noticed her although was always friendly when they spoke.  Others pushed themselves forward to attract his attention, even though everyone knew he was unavailable, that didn’t stop them.  Grace could understand their hopes and dreams.  She felt them too but was happy to just gaze on him when she could, and share a few words now and then.  Nothing of any consequence was ever discussed, she had never taken much notice of matters outside her immediate area of concern and more often than not they were never alone long enough for an interesting conversation to develop of any depth. 

She was just leaving the room, dragging the heavy old hoover behind her, when she heard another car pull up outside.   She hesitated for a moment, but then carried on out into the hall telling herself to be sensible.   The doorbell rang.  Nobody else was around to answer the door.   Grace was suddenly nervous, wondering if he was here at last, then, getting a grip on herself she strode over to the large oak door and peeked through the small window.  It was him.  She slowly opened the door.  He was standing there, in front of her, smiling down at her, his blond hair shining in the cold winter sun.  

“Good afternoon Sister Grace”.

“Afternoon Father.  Are you here for confessions?  I’ll be along soon”.

“I’m sure you have nothing to confess Sister.  I’ll go to the kitchen first, I could do with a coffee, it’s cold out today.”  He smiled as she took his overcoat from him.

To his retreating back Grace whispered “You’d be surprised at what I really need to confess to you.”