The Devil's Diary by Patrick McGinley

Author:Patrick McGinley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 1988-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Canon Hackler called just before noon. He settled himself on the sofa with vulturine inelegance and spoke briefly of the bishop’s passion for panatellas, causing Father Jerry to wonder what was really on his mind. As the clock on the mantelpiece chimed twelve, he poured the canon a glass of Balvenie. He had been waiting patiently for the clock to chime because he judged that to offer him Scotch before noon might imply that he was fond of it. The canon sipped his favourite malt and sneezed four times in succession, making a sound that seemed to say Eheu fugaces!

‘Bless you, Canon,’ Father Jerry said aloud, though to himself he murmured Carpe diem.

The canon blew his nose and fished a battered envelope from an inside pocket.

‘I never pay any attention to anonymous letters,’ he said, ‘but I think that this is one you should see. In every parish there are mischief-makers. Sometimes it is prudent to attend to what they say before someone else does.’

Father Jerry read slowly with an expression which he hoped was suitably blank. The letter was written in capitals and in black ink. There was no address at the top and no signature at the bottom. It said:

Dear Canon,

I write out of Christian concern, not mischief. Father Jerry McSharry in all innocence plays with fire. A handsome young German woman called Olga visits him daily and spends her evenings in the company of drinking men in pubs. Her wood carvings of naked women are immodest and could be considered inflammatory. If the scandalous speculation and gossip which she attracts should prove to have a foundation in truth, the parochial house and the priesthood may well be dragged into disrepute. Father McSharry in his sanctity is unaware of all this. Perhaps it would be a kindness to bring it to his attention.

Yours in Jesus Christ,

Concerned Parishioner

With a smile of resignation Father Jerry handed him back the letter.

‘Well, you have brought it to my attention, as the anonymous letter-writer suggested.’

‘I am not for a moment accusing you …’

‘Like most anonymous letters, it contains a germ of truth. My nearest neighbour is a young German woman called Olga, and she does indeed call in here from time to time. I know that she is a wood carver and for all I know she may visit the village pubs. More than that I can’t say.’

‘Who could have written such a letter?’ the canon wondered.

‘Not many people here: the schoolmaster, the postman, the doctor, the lightkeeper, and possibly the police sergeant. I prefer to leave conjecture to gossips.’

‘I thought you should see it, that’s all.’

The canon dragged himself to the edge of the sofa and after two attempts got to his feet.

‘The bishop is coming next week. This is just a visit, not a visitation.’

‘What’s on his mind?’ Father Jerry asked.

‘Income and expenditure. We’ve always paid our way in this parish but we must do better. I think it’s time you organised some bingo, Jerry.’

‘You know I don’t approve of bingo.

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