A Woman Unknown Page 0,83

searching for.’

‘Oh?’

‘Deirdre Fitzpatrick.’

The mother superior opened her mouth. It stayed open just long enough for me to add, ‘It is imperative that I speak to her.’

‘Who are you?’

‘I’m Kate …’

‘Mrs Shackleton, I know. I mean on whose behalf do you come here?’

‘Mrs Fitzpatrick’s husband asked me to find her.’ The nun’s mouth formed a grim line. Deirdre certainly knew how to bring out the protective side in all who met her.

‘I really must speak to her.’

‘Deirdre is my cousin’s niece. She is unwell, and here for retreat and recuperation.’

The relationship explained why the nun looked familiar to me. There was a family resemblance between her and Deirdre’s aunts. ‘Some things have happened that she should know about, and there are questions.’

The nun fingered her heavy-duty rosary. ‘What questions? She has told me everything.’

I doubted that. ‘Are you saying she has sanctuary here?’

‘She is here for solitude, time to reflect and pray. She was too distraught to go to her own mother’s funeral. Went to the Minster, prayed, walked the walls like a soul trying to find its way home.’

So that had been her story. Curiosity got the better of me. ‘She went to the Minster on the day of her mother’s funeral?’

‘Yes, the Minster. It will be ours again one day.’

So while Deirdre had boarded a train, wearing a nun’s habit, and attended her mother’s funeral, the mother superior thought she had been tripping round York, admiring the walls and praying for the return of the Minster to its rightful owners, the Roman Catholic Church.

Deirdre has style, I thought. I’m very keen to meet her.

‘I must see Mrs Fitzpatrick.’

‘No.’

I stood up. ‘Then I’ll go. The police will not be so understanding.’

‘The police?’

‘They want to question her, as a possible witness to murder.’

‘Murder? That’s preposterous.’

‘A murder in a hotel, where she was present.’

‘No. That can’t be right.’

‘Will you please tell her I am here?’

‘She could have nothing to do with any murder. A man enticed her into a hotel when she was going about her business. She was foolish enough to believe some story of his and found herself in his room. When she realised his true intentions she ran for dear life. After that ordeal, she watched her mother die. She must be left in peace.’

‘Please ensure she does not leave the premises until the police arrive.’

I left the room and walked along the corridor.

‘Wait!’

I turned.

‘You said her husband asked you to look for her?’

‘With respect, Mother Superior, I have nothing more to say, unless it is to Mrs Fitzpatrick.’

‘I would need to sit with her.’

‘If she wishes it, yes.’

‘I will speak to her.’

‘Thank you.’

I went back into the dim room, and waited.

I half expected to see Deirdre wearing the brown habit. She was dressed in dark skirt, blue blouse, navy cardigan, and had purloined a pair of the regulation brown sandals.

Mother Superior said, ‘This is the person who wishes to speak with you, Deirdre.’

I offered her my hand, which she took, cautiously.

At last, I was face to face with the woman who broke hearts, who decided on a course of action and stuck to it, who lied, deceived, helped herself in shops, and blundered through life in her own sweet way.

‘I’m sorry for the loss of your mother, Mrs Fitzpatrick.’

‘How did you know where to find me?’

‘I have my sources.’ Wanting to let her know that I am an investigator, I said, ‘Mr Sykes works with me. You met him one day last year when you were shopping.’

‘Ah.’

‘You will wish me to stay,’ the mother superior said.

‘No thank you. I will be all right.’

Deirdre expected me to be as gullible as Sykes had been.

‘Very well,’ the nun sighed. ‘This lady has some inkling of what you have gone through, I believe.’ This was addressed to Deirdre, but meant for me. I nodded. She walked to the door. ‘Ring the bell when you have finished.’

Alone, Deirdre and I faced each other across the table; each of us perched on a hard bench.

‘It’s almost dark in here, Deirdre, like a twilight world.’

‘It’s dark in here on the brightest of days. The nuns are very conscious of not overusing candles.’

‘I suppose you know everyone has been looking for you.’

‘I just want to be left alone.’

‘In a way then, you have your wish.’

‘What do you mean?’

It was too soon to tell her of her husband’s death. Once I said that her husband was dead, she would have a perfect excuse to swoon into silence. ‘You sent your husband a note that arrived yesterday