Lovers in Enemy Territory (33 page)

"Jeffrey," she whispered his name, forgetting the Holy Mother was in the room. Her life of a religious had come to a close. It was unbelievable.

The Mother General watched all of this from her seat at the desk. Her shoulders were hunched over as if she carried a heavy burden. "Sister," she spoke at last. "Apparently you requested to leave the Order before you accompanied me here to Spain."

Catherine heard the other woman and returned to her seat nodding soberly.

The woman felt the Sister's absolute sincerity. "You puzzle me, Catherine. You showed no signs of wanting to leave the Order during the voyage over here, and the Holy Mother has had nothing but the highest praise for your work. You've driven yourself unceasingly, I'm told, without complaint of any kind. You must forgive me, but none of this sounds like an oblate who wants to be free to go back into the world."

Catherine lowered her head and prayed she'd be able, to find the right words. "Didn't the Holy Mother at Our Lord of the Lamb tell you I had laid my case before her, while you were still in London?"

She shook her head. "No, Sister, and I think I know why." She stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, clasping her rosary. "When I was in Wiltshire, recruiting sisters to come to Spain, we had a long talk and went over the qualifications of each sister housed at the convent.

“It was apparent from the very beginning that the Holy Mother held you in the highest esteem. She remarked on your deep spirituality and dedication. I’ve never heard higher praise given a sister."

Catherine kneaded her hands, and listened as the Holy Mother continued.

"It’s possible she hoped you'd have a change of heart in your new surroundings, that you would see things differently and decide to remain a bride of Christ. I can understand why she said nothing in case you desired to rescind your earlier decision. To lose a nun like you would cause her much heartache and sadness, as it has all of us."

She paused. "Is there any chance that while you have labored here, you've had time to reflect and reconsider? It’s not too late, my child. I'm fully aware of the unique circumstances involved here. I reviewed your case with the Cardinal and read very carefully the long explanation from the Holy Mother.

“We went over it in detail. The love between a woman and a man is very powerful. I had to choose between a man and God when I was young. I had to pass through the same way that you are now passing. It was difficult. You see, the man I loved was a childhood sweetheart. We were engaged to be married. The banns were posted ... and then a very strange and marvelous thing happened to me too sacred to reveal to anyone, but the Lord had spoken and there was no doubt-in my mind what I had to do.

“I gave up the man, and to this day I have never regretted it. Catherine, it is not too late for you, either! I realize this love of yours for this man and his son is powerful. But a daughter of God as noble as you, as talented and as spiritual, has so much to give to the world. Yours is a rare gift. Can you not see this?"

This was the difficult part after all. Catherine stood up once more. She felt pain, not because she feared she'd made the wrong decision, but because she didn't know how to explain to the Mother General so she would really understand.

"Holy Mother, I'm sorry that you were not informed of my case before you left England. I thought of course that you knew. I meant in no way to deceive you."

"I understand that, my child," she spoke with kindness. "I have no intention of upsetting you, Catherine. I just had to be absolutely certain that you were firm in your decision. May God grant you happiness, my child, and a blessed life with this man and his son. He must be very special to have won your love."

"He's the most wonderful person I've ever known. He too loves the Lord. I think it is this, above all else, that caused me even to consider marriage to him. I love him very much," her voice trembled with emotion.

The Mother General handed Catherine the dispensation.

She hugged the parchment to her breast. The waiting was over. She could go back to Castle Combe, remove her habit, and then travel to London to look after Michael. To feel his little arms around her neck...

The Mother General saw the look of joy sweep over her face. "Catherine, you are free; however, I suggest you retain your habit till you're back in England. It has been my experience that our habit offers protection during these destructive times. We’re always in danger. It would be foolish to think otherwise. A ship will be outside the harbor at Lisbon in eight days to take you sisters back to England. I’ll accompany you there and see you safely aboard the ship."

"Bless you, Holy Mother. I don’t intend to leave the Order or remove my habit till I've returned to Our Lord of the Lamb. I must say goodbye to the Holy Mother there. She took me in when I was fifteen. She’s like a mother to me. I owe her so much,"

Catherine bowed her head. "I will tell no one about this dispensation. No one knows except the Holy Mother in England, and you."

"That’s very wise." The dark eyes softened. "The others care for you very much. It could hurt them deeply. I will say nothing, either."

"Thank you. There’s a part of me that will always be with the sisters. They will forever be in my thoughts and prayers."

"It couldn’t be otherwise, could it?" she smiled sadly. "You have other work to do which cannot be done inside these hallowed walls. God go with you, my child. I think Commander Norwood is a very blessed man. I pray that he knows this, too."

Catherine rushed to her side and knelt before the Mother General, kissing her hands and ring. Then she arose and walked quietly from the office. She headed for the chapel, wanting to be alone for a while.

*****

Miguel had returned from Fuenterrabia empty handed. There was no more milk to be had in the village or the province. When he reached the infirmary, he stopped dead in his tracks and crossed himself in disbelief. The presence of twenty new Italian sisters already tending to the needs of the sick filled his grateful heart to overflowing and he couldn’t find words.

He worked with the new nuns for over an hour, shaking his head every so often at this outpouring of goodness. Some of the sisters were conversant in French as well as Spanish. It would make their training so much easier, but lurking in the background was a great new fear for Sister Catherine. Finally, she made an appearance.

Her regal white figure stood in the doorway. She had a radiance about her. . He swallowed hard when he thought of what he must do. It would be difficult to convince her. She had a strong will and a mind of her own. She wouldn’t like it, but she had no choice. He had to make her see that. He waved and she hurried across the room.

"Miguel, we're witnessing a miracle!" Her eyes sparkled with happiness. There was a new glow about her. He decided the presence of the sisters from Rome had caused it.

"Yes, Sister. Your prayers must be powerful.” His eyes remained fixed on her. "God has heard your pleas and has answered you tenfold."

"He’s answered all our prayers," she discreetly corrected him. "The sisters have brought milk, chocolate, flour, fresh oranges, even sugar," she stated joyfully. "And look, Miguel! Medical supplies!" She pointed to the supply closet.

"Yes, it’s hard to believe.” But the smile on his face was forced. "Sister, I must talk to you alone."

She saw a shadow creep over his face. What could possibly have produced that look on such a joyous occasion? "Very well, Miguel. Just as soon as I finish my rounds with the new sisters. It shouldn’t take more than an hour."

"No, Sister," his voice was firm. "Now! This cannot wait."

"Why? Has it something to do with the flyer?"

"No.” He shook his head. "Sister, why would the Boches be looking for you?"

She stared at him. "The Boches?" she mouthed the hideous word.

He nodded. "There is talk in the village. I have friends, contacts. Two German agents from Gestapo headquarters in Madrid were in town yesterday asking questions about you."

Catherine started to feel lightheaded. “Surely not me?" she cried. "You must be mistaken, Miguel."

"No," he shook his head again. "There's no mistake. They wanted to know if any of the villagers had seen the English sister from the convent. The tall one with the white habit and the beautiful face. They knew a group of you came over from England last month. They’ve made many inquiries already, Sister. They wanted to know if you’d been in town making contact with someone."

"I don't understand," she whispered.

"You’re in some kind of trouble, Sister. I want to help you. I have a plan," he offered seriously.

“Miguel, I'm not in any trouble. Why would I be? I've been a professed nun for over three years. I've done nothing but live the life of an oblate all this time. This has to be some misunderstanding."

"Think, Sister," he almost shouted at her. "Do you possess any information they might need to have?" She shook her head. "Do you know someone important to them?"

Again she shook her head. "I know a lot of people. The sisters, the Holy Mother, the sick people we've been caring for."

"What about back in England?"

"This is ridiculous. My life is the same there. I work with the children at the convent, the Holy Mother there. Do you suppose they want to know how I came to Spain? By what means? Something of that nature?"

"No," he muttered. "Otherwise you'd have been questioned thoroughly when the soldiers came to the convent the other day. That would have been simple enough, and they could have picked any one of you. No! This definitely has to do with you, and only you. I'm asking you one more time. Believe me, I know how the pigs work. You must know something of vital importance, even if you're not aware of it."

"But what?" she demanded, her consternation growing.

"They think you are trying to get in touch with someone, or that someone is trying to make contact with you. Who would that be, Sister?" His face was white. "Do you have a friend, or a relative, someone close to you who might be trying to reach you, who could be of interest to the Gestapo?"

She thought the question through. "Jeffrey.”

"You do know someone!" he shouted.

She paced the floor. Could it be that Jeffrey was trying to get in touch with her and the Germans had found out about it? She thought back over previous conversations with him in the hospital and at Norwood. He'd never told her anything about his top secret work in the Coastal Command. She remembered the meetings with Lord Wyngate, and others he attended.

They were highly confidential. He’d never so much as breathed a word about his business. Besides, he was in Africa. He wouldn't be trying to reach her now. How could he? He didn't even know the location of the convent and the two months were almost over. Perhaps he was already back in England.

Miguel was at the end of his patience. "Sister, you whispered a name just now. For your sake, tell me anything you know. These men are from the S.S. They are ruthless monsters and would torture you without so much as thinking about it. They could drag you away from Saint Theresa's this very day, and I'd never see you again. Your habit, your vocation would not protect you.

“The jails are full of prisoners who've been there for years rotting. They’ll be there till they die. You could be taken to the women's prison at Figuras. I have seen it, incredibly sordid, full of vermin and filth. They could take you back to Madrid to their own headquarters."

Catherine turned terror-filled eyes to him. She knew the Nazis did not respect the sanctity of human life. "I know a man, Miguel A Commander in the RAF who’s stationed in Africa right now. He does important work for the British Air Ministry and on occasion has been in consultation with the Prime Minister."

Miguel shook his head.

Catherine went on. "If anyone is trying to reach me, it would be this man. I know no other."

"Is he a relative, Sister?" He saw her hesitation and grabbed her shoulders with forceful hands. He began to shake her. "Tell me everything you know! Your life could depend on it. Do you understand?"

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Catherine pulled herself from Miguel’s firm grasp and haltingly began telling her story from the very beginning. She began with the arrival of Michael at the convent and ended with the fact that she’d just received her dispensation, that she was free. When she finished her tale, he stood there in a daze.

He didn't speak. There was so much to absorb, he couldn’t collect his thoughts at once. He gazed at her, unable to believe that she was no longer a nun, that she was in love, that she planned to return to England to marry. This new revelation momentarily blinded him to the situation at hand. All this time he'd thought her unattainable. He’d put her on a pedestal above all other women. But she was human, like the rest of the world.

She belonged to another man. What irony that he’d assumed he could not have her, dared not think of his love, when another man had already claimed her heart. She was a prize. There was no one else like her.

Catherine was not fully aware of the impact of her words on Miguel. She had no doubt that what she’d told him had damaged her character in his eyes. She’d been a nun, and now she’d given all that up to do something very ordinary in the eyes of the world. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes.