Never an Empire by James Green Page B

you to come as a priest, not sniffing around for a woman to take into your bed.’ She resumed her mixing. Father Enrique watched her for a moment. It was already thoroughly mixed, so why did she go on playing with it? ‘If you can be a priest, and nothing more than a priest, I will help you.’ He realised it was something for her to do, something to occupy her hands and her eyes while she spoke to him. She stopped and wiped her hands on a cloth. ‘Get ready and go. Go out there and be the priest they want. Baptise them, marry them, say Mass for them. Make them feel the Church has not abandoned them and while you do that I will see what can be done about Carmen.’
    Maria picked up the bowl of porridge mixture and went out. Father Enrique stood for a moment. Already he could feel desire seeping back into him. Maria would see what she could do about Carmen. He tried to tell himself that he wanted nothing done about her. He wanted her out of his life. He tried to bring back to the front of his mind the picture of her in the firelight, looking at him from beside the drunken policeman, but the only image that came was of her naked on his bed. He looked at the doorway. The smoke of the fire drifted across it in the sunlight. The day was well advanced. The people would be gathered patiently, waiting for him to say Mass, and all he could do was stand here thinking of her. He forced himself into some sort of action. Maria was right, whatever his private reasons for coming the people of the village wanted him only as a priest.
    He went to the doorway and stepped out into the morning sunlight and stopped. There, standing a little way from the door of the hut, was Carmen, looking straight at him. Beside her was a young man in a uniform, a soldier’s uniform. He was smiling and looking at Father Enrique. He came forward with Carmen at his side.
    â€˜Good morning, Father, I am Lieutenant Ponce of General Sakay’s army. He turned to Carmen. ‘This is my wife, Carmen,’ his smile widened to a grin, ‘or at least she will be when you marry us. And this is our daughter, Maria Carmen.’ Father Enrique looked at the baby Carmen was holding. Suddenly the lieutenant stood to attention and saluted. ‘Welcome to our village, Father, it is a great honour.’ Then he relaxed again and the smile returned. ‘I suppose no one has mentioned money?’
    The question left Father Enrique looking puzzled and his confusion was real, though caused by this sudden and wholly unforeseen confrontation with Carmen, not as the beautiful young woman with whom he thought he was in love, but Carmen as a wife and a mother. He forced his eyes and his attention back to the lieutenant.
    â€˜Money?’
    The smile widened once more.
    â€˜They told me, Father, how very unworldly you are. I mean payment. You have travelled a long way, you are rendering us a great service. We must show our gratitude. We must pay.’
    â€˜Pay?’
    The lieutenant laughed and turned to Carmen.
    â€˜See, this is a real priest, not one who lives in comfort and feeds well while his people suffer. He comes all this way and doesn’t even think of payment.’
    Carmen looked at Father Enrique shyly.
    â€˜He is indeed a very special man.’
    â€˜A holy man.’ The Lieutenant turned back to Father Enrique. ‘You must be paid, Father, to take so much and give nothing in return would bring shame on the whole village.’
    Father Enrique felt he must say something, anything. He looked around and saw Maria standing silently by the fire on which the bowl of porridge was beginning to burn. He looked at the porridge.
    â€˜Yes, I see, but it is a poor village.’
    The Lieutenant laughed again.
    â€˜Good heavens, Father, you can’t refuse; besides the village isn’t paying. I am.’
    â€˜You?’
    â€˜Well, not me personally but I carry the money. It is from General Sakay