Chapter 8

                                    

                                          
[RECAP: Young priest Father Gabriel has just taught his first English glass at St Winifred's School for Girls, a Catholic boarding school in England...]

                          


                          
Gabriel, still irked by the teaching role that had been thrust upon him, had done the minimum preparation possible for his A-level class. He'd got most of the information about The Crucible from the foreword to the textbook, which he had barely skimmed, and from his own scant knowledge of the play.
                          
Now, following the class, he found himself intrigued to learn more about it. It wasn't a text he had studied himself at school or university. But the girls had responded to it really well, coming up with intelligent questions and interesting ideas. He owed them more than to be half-hearted in his teaching.
                          
There was another reason though. That girl, that voice.
                          
He couldn't get her out of his mind.
                          
Leonie Wilson. She and the other girl, the annoying one, both had a clear talent for acting.
                          
He was still thinking about the reading as he walked through the courtyard, where he was joined by Sister Marguerite, the Head of English. A pleasant but no-nonsense woman in her late fifties, she had keen grey eyes and was astute enough to know that a young, handsome teacher would have caused a ripple of interest among the girls. Regardless of his status as a man of the cloth.
                          
"How did you find your first class, Father Gabriel?" she asked.
                          
Gabriel wasn't sure how best to respond. "Different than I had expected," he told her honestly.
                          
"Indeed. I trust the girls behaved? They can be unruly with new staff members."
                          
They hadn't been at all unruly. "They seemed very engaged with the text," he said.
                          
Sister Marguerite frowned. "You're reading The Crucible with them, aren't you?" she asked.
                          
"Yes." Not the most suitable text for a convent school, Gabriel thought.
                          
"You know that the sixth form are supposed to put on a play? We encourage it, to give the girls a feel for the theatrical dimension to the texts they're studying. Usually we do whatever Shakespeare is on the syllabus, but I wonder if this term we might try something more contemporary? How would you feel about co-producing The Crucible for the sixth form performance?"
                          
Gabriel had a sudden flash vision of Leonie on stage, wildly flinging accusations of witchcraft around. "Co-produce?" he asked, trying to quell the disturbingly appealing image.
                          
"Sister Rosalind, who teaches History of Art, also has background in Theatre Studies, although it's not a subject we currently offer here. Her skills come in very useful for our school productions, but it's challenging work to do alone. If you have sufficient time to assist her, I am sure she would be very glad," Sister Marguerite said.
                          
Gabriel wasn't sure that he wanted to give up any of his free time as he had planned to use it to work on his thesis. But he sensed the Head of English's request wasn't something that could be declined.
                          
"I'd be happy to discuss it with her," he told Sister Marguerite.
                          
The older nun smiled. "That's settled then. You can arrange a rehearsal schedule with her and begin casting next week."
                          
What had he got himself into? If this was God's plan for his career, it was a strange one. Gabriel had thought that the remoteness and quiet of the place might at least be his recompense for having to teach a load of overprivileged girls. Now it seemed he was to sacrifice his leisure hours as well.
                          
Yet when he thought of listening to the American girl, of seeing the emotions on her face as she read the lines, conjuring up the spirit of of the character, he found himself less averse to the prospect.
                          
They might make something of the production, he thought. He had been introduced to Sister Rosalind earlier and remembered her as a pleasant and intelligent woman. If he were forced to work with the opposite sex, rather than the male seclusion he sought, she would at least be bearable as a colleague.
                          
He knew many of the girls had been looking at him as they weren't supposed to look at a teacher, let alone a priest. But that was to be expected. They were young women, it was natural they would seek male attention. Gabriel cast his thoughts back to a particular woman and his eyes narrowed from the anger and betrayal he still felt. She had certainly been happy enough to seek it in more than one place.
                          
Despite his vows, despite his commitment to what he believed was his calling, he couldn't help wish that a certain girl had been among the ones eyeing him up. Because he had to admit to himself that he had been fighting the urge to gaze at her.
                          
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I wonder if he entered the priesthood for the right reasons?
                          
And if that's going to make it harder to keep his vows...