Susie laughed in disbelief. Ella dropped her arm from Bea's shoulder and slumped on the sofa, crossing her arms and legs.

'That's why I cut myself off from you, and everything, really.' Beatrice sat down heavily on her piano stool and carefully folded her glasses on top of a pile of music. 'It was all quite intense, and when it ended I just wanted to...I don't know...turn my back on it all, I suppose.'

'Bloody hell, Bea. I mean...fuck.' Susie stared at her friend. 'So that's how you knew what to do when she collapsed.'

'Yes.' Bea was grateful for what she supposed was Susie's professional curiosity kicking in. It lessened the emotional tension very slightly. 'She was always a bit capricious about her medication, and she hated the fact that she was ill – she'd never really come to terms with her diagnosis, even after fifteen years of living with it. So I'd seen her have hypos and hypers before, and knew what to do. That day was different, though. She hadn't eaten much for days, and I'm not entirely sure when she'd last injected herself. She wasn't right when I saw her that afternoon, in fact I discovered she'd thrown out a lot of her medication, thinking she was cured. I rescued the pen I had in my pocket that day from her bin when she wasn't looking, although I didn't really know what I intended to do with it.'

'Just as well you did, Bea. She'd've died on the chapel floor if you hadn't got the insulin into her, probably.'

Bea sighed. 'I sometimes think she wanted to die, in some ways. She certainly wasn't very happy in this life. And after that day she spent what was left of it in one sort of hospital or another, talking to the imaginary vision of St Clare in her head.'

Ella rubbed her temples. Susie glanced at her, then asked, 'How long were you...I mean...a thing?'

'Eight months or so. From the start of the summer holidays at the end of Lower Sixth to that Good Friday. Although it had been building up for a while beforehand. The end had been some time coming too, for that matter, she was just so exhausting emotionally.' Bea rubbed her eyes and sighed. 'We did quite like each other from as soon she came here at the start of Lower Sixth. As friends to start with, obviously. I'm not sure when she started wanting more, but it took me a while to realise that things had crossed a line. By which time it was too late to stop, I suppose.'

'And no-one noticed?' Susie poured herself more juice. 'After you'd got closer, I mean.'

'I'm sure no-one did. We were extremely careful, obviously. And from Easter Lower Sixth I was Library Prefect to her librarian, so it wasn't that odd if we spent a lot of time together. Shortly after we, er, became intimate, it was the summer holidays, obviously, and I decided to stay at school for most of them: I was working quite hard at the organ in preparation for Cambridge and things, to be fair, so it was justifiable. That made it easier because there were so few people around the school. By the time term started, we'd worked out how to meet without arousing suspicion. We spent a lot of extra time in the library and her cottage.' Beatrice cleared her throat. 'Apart from now, I've never talked about it. I did tell Sister Francesca, that Good Friday when Thérèse...Sister Amata...was ill. I was worried about her not taking her medication and she'd just broken things off, so in a fit of anger and worry I went to Sister F and explained.'

'Woah. You went straight to Sister F and confessed to a year-long involvement with one of her nuns?'

'Yes. I had no choice. Thérèse had said...well, she said lots of things that afternoon, most of them very unkind and probably the product of her unravelling mind. But one of the things she said was that she'd written to Sister F to accuse me of seducing her into sin, after St Clare had visited her to say she'd been saved as well as cured and must put me behind her.' Beatrice sighed and kept her voice quiet. 'In the chapel that night, after you'd both gone to ring 999 and fetch Sister F, she looked at me and recognised me through the pain. She called me Satan.'

Susie grunted and looked up as Ella sucked her breath in noisily. 'You alright, Raffy? You've been a bit quiet.'

Raphaela lifted her head and sighed. 'I'm struggling with all this a bit, to be honest.' She glanced at Beatrice, who was concerned by the mixture of anger and anguish in her friend's eyes. 'I think I saw that argument, though.' She gestured at Bea. 'You were in Sister Amata's cottage that afternoon. I'd gone for a run to try and stop thinking about Melody and had detoured down to see Double-M, and I saw you two arguing through the window. I remember it looked serious at the time. Then you were weird at tea, really pissed off with something or other.'

'Yeah. You were so furious you just ignored us.'

Beatrice put her hand over her mouth. 'I'm sorry. I don't recall even seeing you. My head was not in a good place that day.'

Susie leant forward, hands on her knees. 'Why didn't you think about talking to your friends about it?' She waved at Raphaela and herself.

Raphaela grunted and shook her head. 'I don't think we'd have been much use at that stage, Susie. I'm shocked now, and it's ten years down the line.'

'Yes.' Beatrice leant on the sides of the piano stool and crossed her legs. 'I'm afraid it never occurred to me, probably because it was so much more serious than all the Susie rumours, and that hadn't gone well.' She examined the fingers on one hand. 'The next week, I heard that I'd failed Grade 8, and I knew it was because I hadn't practised enough – which was directly Sister Amata's fault for taking up the little spare time I had after schoolwork and chapel.'

'I know you had a mini-meltdown after that,' Susie said gently. 'I watched it from a distance, but didn't know how to help.'

'I don't know it was a meltdown.' Beatrice kept looking at her fingers. 'Maybe it was. That was when I threw out the idea of Cambridge, decided to give up music and so on. Sister Francesca arranged my year in the convent so I could sort my own head out while doing something productive somewhere new.' Bea looked up and smiled sadly. 'She wasn't to know that the Order would move Thérèse to the same convent to recuperate – she'd never have agreed to that, knowing I was there. I wrote to her after the funeral, and she was absolutely furious with the Order. Not that she could say or do anything about it, of course. It was just an administrative coincidence.'

'You went to the funeral?' Ella looked at Beatrice properly, for the first time since her bombshell. 'Wasn't that...weird?'

'Not as bad as watching her die. Although I didn't know I had, at the time.' Beatrice shivered quickly, then sat up straighter. 'But yes, I organised the music for it, and played the organ. It was very difficult.' She smiled quickly at Ella, and was relieved to see her friend's mouth twitch slightly in return (although her eyes were still sad). 'I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, even now. But we'd all started sharing things about that night...I don't know why I just blurted it out.'

Ella shrugged and looked away for a moment. 'I did ask you how you knew her so well. And I suppose it's better to know. I don't want us to be as distant as we have been all this time as a result of all this.' She sighed, then stood up and crossed to Beatrice, offering her hand. When Beatrice took it, Ella surprised her by pulling her upright and into a hug. Beatrice buried her face in Ella's hair for a moment, enjoying the physical support of her friend and the emotional support she knew lay behind it. She felt her eyes begin to fill and turned her head in case the tears came, to avoid getting them on Ella's neck. Ella rubbed Bea's back slowly before releasing her.

Susie watched them for a moment. 'We've certainly got some things off our chests tonight, eh, girls?'

Ella moved back to the sofa and watched Beatrice pour herself more wine before sitting back on the piano stool. 'Bea, I know this is weird, probably inappropriate to ask...but, how do you even end up in that situation? I mean, I just can't imagine you...and a nun...'

Beatrice blew her breath out heavily and crossed her legs. 'Well, she always saw me as a friend – she was quite lonely, really, and found friendships difficult. She hadn't had a happy childhood, and had only known a convent environment since she was about six. Looking back, I don't think she should ever have become a nun, she was utterly unsuited to it. Not least because of her mental instability and her inclination for intense friendships with girls. But she didn't really know anything else, and it meant she got a very good education. She was very intelligent, and her conversation could be quite challenging. But for all she was ten years older than us, it was sometimes like dealing with a prickly teenager, emotionally.'

Beatrice looked distant for a moment.

'I used her to practise my French, which I suppose made us feel that our friendship was special as we did mainly speak to each other in French, as time went on. She was always quite intense with her affection, and I was flattered because I didn't know whether we'd ever be close again, so also felt a bit alone. I'd catch her staring at me sometimes, but didn't think much of that, it was just her odd little way. Then the little touches started. She'd brush against me or tap my knee, that sort of thing. Over time the taps became touches, and then they started lingering. I didn't mind, I just took it as affection. I saw her as a friend and it was her way of showing it – and she did have very pretty hands. I remember thinking that very thing, once, when her hand had been on my knee under the library desk for much longer than usual. I suppose now I should've discouraged all that early on, but it made me feel better about myself at the time.'

Beatrice started fiddling with a strand of hair, then distracted herself by taking a sip of wine.

'After that, she'd touch my leg rather than my knee. And that was alright too, because it was always very gentle, even when each touch got a bit longer or a bit higher up my leg. It didn't escape me that it was probably inappropriate, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the attention. Or she'd pretend to adjust my blazer, or flick some speck off my jumper, and accidentally brush my breasts.' She looked at the ceiling, then picked at the hem of her dress quickly. 'I know what it sounds like, hearing myself say it, and I knew full well it wasn't ever an accident. But I still didn't mind. It was sometimes in the library, sometimes at her cottage, and there was never anything more than just these little snatches of contact. Then, after I was made Library Prefect, we had even more time together and she started opening up about things: her difficult childhood, her diagnosis when she was twelve, not feeling like she fitted in anywhere, how she found solace in the church even though she never felt entirely secure in her salvation...all the heavy emotional things. I felt like I was really special then, being her confidante.'

Beatrice shifted slightly on the piano stool.

'We'd sit and talk for hours, often on the sofa in her cottage, and by then I was used to her being so tactile. By the time her hand was regularly finding its way under my skirt, it felt...normal. I know that sounds stupid, but it did. And to be honest, I wasn't exactly against the idea.'

She sensed her friends' discomfort, but ploughed on before they could say anything. Now she'd started talking about it, she needed to keep going.

'The time the final line was crossed was at the start of those Summer holidays. She'd had a massive hypo that afternoon, and didn't want to be alone. In fairness, it was a serious one. I was worried about her, so when she asked me to spend the night at the cottage, in case it happened again, I never thought to refuse. I slept on the sofa, but she was up and about in the night getting a drink of water, which woke me up. I remember being surprised at seeing her in a nightdress – she was a very attractive woman under that habit. Anyway, we ended up sitting on the sofa under my duvet and chatting, and well...you can guess the rest.' Beatrice looked down at her wineglass.

Ella rubbed her temples. Susie cleared her throat, but her voice was surprisingly gentle. 'You do realise that's classic abuse? My safeguarding radar was going wild there, Bea.'

Beatrice shrugged. 'Yes, I do. I've done all the training, being a teacher.' She sighed. 'But, she wasn't manipulative...well, no, she was, but not maliciously. It was just who she was, and I was over-age. And consenting.' She flicked a sad glance at Ella, who was staring carefully at the ceiling. 'She didn't target anyone else, I'm sure she thought it was a unique relationship.' Beatrice picked at her dress hem again. 'And she's dead now. I've dealt with it in my own way, over the years. Made up for the way she knocked my life off course, by approaching the same end in a slightly different way.'

'How did she die?' Ella gathered her hair behind her and ran her hands through it quickly, letting it settle around her shoulders. 'You said she'd been ill ever since that night in the chapel...'

Beatrice stood up from the piano stool and moved to sit back on the sofa. 'I think her body was damaged from the DKA, so she had to have a drip in her, as well as being forced to have the insulin she still refused to take. The infirmary in France just kept her mildly sedated the whole time, so she didn't disturb the other patients with her religious hallucinations and was more compliant when she had to have the insulin.'

'You said you were there when she died, though.'

Beatrice blinked, frowning fleetingly, and put her wineglass down. 'Oh, yes. It was very early morning, an hour or two before Lauds. I used to deep-clean the ward then, so as not to get in the way of everyone who tended to be around in the daytime. If I had time, I'd sit by her bed, just to keep her company. She was a bit restless that night, had been all day, but she really started babbling as I was mopping the section she was in. The duty sister was off with someone else, so I shoved my mop and bucket out of the way and sat with her for a while.' Beatrice glanced at Ella but didn't meet her eye. 'Just holding her hand, which seemed to calm her – I don't think she knew who I was, which was probably for the best. Eventually I thought she'd gone to sleep, and I went back to cleaning. I was just packing my stuff away when the sister asked me to go and find the duty senior sister, because she'd just gone to check on Amata and found her dead in her sleep.' Beatrice paused for a moment. 'It was quite peaceful, apparently. Well, it must've been, because the only people there who were awake or aware were me and the sister, and neither of us heard anything.'

After a pause, Ella asked, 'How does it feel, talking about it now?'

Beatrice took a deep breath, then sighed heavily. 'Good, actually. I don't feel the need to tell anyone else, necessarily, but I'm glad I've been honest with you two.' She suddenly smiled widely. 'In fact, that's lovely. Thank you for listening. And not judging too much.'

Susie shuffled forward to the edge of her seat, and reached out to pat Beatrice's knee. 'We're hardly in a position to judge you, Bea. None of us were exactly perfect back then, were we?'

Beatrice held Susie's hand and squeezed it. With her other hand, she sought Ella's and felt Ella take it. They both squeezed gently and for a moment the three of them sat holding hands. Beatrice cleared her throat. 'Thanks.'

Ella turned her hand and linked her fingers through Bea's. 'Can we promise to be better friends to each other, now we've cleared the air? Start again? When we were good as friends, we were very good.'

'We were,' Susie agreed, and Beatrice nodded emphatically. Susie added, 'I don't want to pile yet more emotion on tonight, but when I arrived at St Ben's, I also felt as alone and misunderstood as you two have described. And I will always be grateful for the way you two made a real effort to be friendly, and saved me from being even more of an awkward bitch than I was. So yeah, thanks.'

Beatrice squeezed Susie's hand again, then gently let go of both hers and Ella's. 'I don't know if either of you actually place much weight on church any more – if you ever did, beyond what was expected of us here. I'm really only invested in it all because of the music, and as you know I'm not Catholic anyway; if you're not particularly religious any more, feel free to say no. But I wonder if you'd like to go to chapel tomorrow morning – the sisters will be saying the offices, or there's a said Mass at 10am.' She circled a strand of hair in her fingers absent-mindedly. 'I was thinking, this has been very cathartic tonight, but in some ways we perhaps still need finally to lay to rest the ghost of what happened in chapel that night. I have two specific things I'd like to do to lay it – and the ghost of Thérèse...Sister Amata...for that matter: light a candle, and play a particular piece on the organ. I played it as the outgoing voluntary at her funeral, and I've never been able to play it all the way through since. I feel now that maybe I could, and I'd like to give it a go.'

Ella uncrossed her legs and tucked her feet up under herself, adjusting the hem of her dress. 'To be honest, Bea, I used to go to church out of habit and because that's what my family did. Do. But I haven't been since I left here. Not of my own accord, anyway.'

'Me neither,' Susie shrugged. 'Never was the pious type. They made me sacristan prefect because I was organised and efficient.' She sat back. 'I see what you're getting at, though.'

'Can we sneak in after they've all finished?' Ella hooked her hair behind her ears. 'I'd like to be up in the organ loft to see you play, for once.'

Susie nodded. 'I'd rather slip in and just have a private little moment to ourselves, to be honest.'

Beatrice felt that – for whatever reason – both her friends were more than just supportive of the idea. 'Alright. Let's wander up about half ten. Gives us time for a decent breakfast here, we'll miss the end of Mass, and you still won't be too late leaving, Susie.'

Susie nodded, and yawned suddenly. 'Ugh, sorry. Sounds good, Bea. Nice idea.' She checked her watch. 'Now, though, I need to think about heading. I'm usually dead to the world on the sofa way earlier than this. Blame the little one.' She patted her bump. 'Poor Ollie is watching a lot of telly by himself these days.'

They all stood up, hugging quickly again, then Susie took herself off upstairs and Ella and Bea converted the sofa into a bed. They said goodnight over a lingering hug. 'I'm, sorry, Ella, for dropping all that stuff about Sister Amata on top of your revelations.'

Ella stroked Bea's back. 'It's literally all in the past. We've a chance now to put it behind us and start again. And do a better job of it this time.'

They released the hug but continued holding each other, like at the station the previous night. 'Yes. I'm glad.' Beatrice rested her forehead against her friend's again briefly. 'Goodnight, Ella.'

Ella moved her head slightly, and lightly brushed Bea's nose with her own. 'Night, Bea.' For a moment, she looked serious, then she grinned and stepped back. 'Good luck on the sofabed.'