CHAPTER 27
About a week later, just as we finished tea ,there was a knock at the door. Alice, who was unusually in drag as Alan, leapt up to answer it. I heard a muffled conversation, but could just pick out a couple of ‘Alans’

She...he…came to the living room with a dumpy, florid-faced man.

“Patrick, this is my adopted family, Sarah…Sar…and Tony. Tony, Sar, this is Patrick. Tea, or a nip, Pat?”

“Er, can I be rude and ask for both, Al?”

“Of course, you would expect no less.”

She busied herself n the kitchen, and as we sat trying to make small talk with a stranger, she appeared again with a tumbler of what smelled like whisky, and a tray of cups of tea. As the tray was set down, Pat unwound his scarf to reveal a dog collar. He was a fucking priest. I will be blunt here: I do not like priests, of any sect, cult, denomination, whatever, but particularly not Roman Catholics.

“Tone, Sar, meet one of my oldest drinking buddies, Father Patrick Malahyde. Pat, I have sort of introduced these two, but please understand that I really do consider them my family”

“Al, you have been on your own far too long, this is good stuff”

He sipped the whisky. “This IS good stuff, Al. Laphroaig?”

“Yes. You have a good nose; sorry, Tone, I hope you don’t mind me nicking some. Pat, we need to run something past you, and it is very…personal.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Al---what? So we keep a swear box in the vestry, I’ll do the honours later. Look, Al, if you are trying to tell me you are on the other bus, I already know, and don’t actually care, so you don’t need to embarrass your family”

Bloody hell, what had happened to the miserable fucking bigots that I remembered as the priests of my childhood?

Alice was speaking. “It’s not like that, Pat. Now you know I am a good Catholic…I just don’t do the church thing. I just need a bit of a hand at the moment. I’m at a sort of crossroads. I know where I am going, I just need a little help with the traffic. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned”

“Alan, we can’t do that here, I don’t know what you have done, but this should be private”

“Pat, please trust me, these two lovely people know exactly what I am about to tell you, but I must ask that this has the confessional seal upon it.”

“Al, I need no wooden shed to do that bit. Your confession is between you and God, and he needs no man-made structures for that. I ask you formally, Alan Hill, if you truly wish to confess your sins before these witnesses”

“I do, Father”

Pat sighed, and looked at me and Tony. “What the fuck has he done?”

Alice spoke. “She”

His eyes widened, and then he nodded, This was a sharp man, and I could see him being very dangerous in the wrong circumstances.

“Oh fuck. Talk to me, my……daughter? Oh shit, mate, I always knew you were a bit off kilter, I should have spotted this one. The beard was the problem”

Pat looked at us again. “You obviously know all about this. Just answer me this, shut up Al, is he, she, happy?”

I spoke for us. “I do believe so, Pat. Her immediate problem s that the Church appears to condemn people like her”

“Bollocks. Er, anyone got a couple of quid? Got no change for the swear box. Look, Al, what do I call you now?”

We all answered at once. “Alice”

“OK, Alice, you clear off and come back when you are yourself. Tony, bring the bottle, please”

Tony did the duties. I looked at Pat. “What happened to not wearing the raiment etc of the opposite sex?”

“Oh the new boss rewrote the old rules, something about loving people. I really can’t be arsed with all that smiting stuff.”

He poured himself a huge measure of the malt. Alice didn’t take long.

“Al ,mate, it works for me. Now, I have to ask, do you have anything beyond not confessing for a while?”

“Not that I can think of”

“OK, one Hail Mary for being a dirty stop out. Now, Alice, I have to explain something to you. Please listen, and inwardly digest.

“God creates souls. That soul is who you are. The challenge God sets you is to be the best you can. Now, there are obstacles that fall n your way. An example is small pox. Man found a way of stopping that one, and that was God’s work.

“People are born with hare lips, and surgery by man heals them. What is the difference between healing a hare lip and healing a gender anomaly?”

I bit my tongue,, before I could launch into a reply. Much as I thought Pat was talking crap, he was still making sense if you bought into his superstition. More than that, what he said was actually rather beautiful.

“Alice, please forgive me if I am less than eloquent here, but you really have dropped a big one in my lap, and it’s got a burning fuse and ‘bomb’ written on it. Here’s my take, and to be honest here, it’s what my Cardinal has spoken to me about on occasions.”

He looked at us all, and grinned. “We actually read the papers, you know.. There are certain hard limits on what the Church will allow. Within those limits, however, we can be flexible. Take dress, for example. What is acceptably modest today would have been scandalous a few years ago.

"Now, I will not marry divorced people. Marriage is a sacrament, and I can never accept its breach by a civil court. I cannot marry two people who are not born to different genders. That is doctrine, official Church policy if you will. The matter has never come up for me, but it is what I would be bound to if it did”

He looked sharply at her. “Al, tell me you aren’t….”

She grinned back. “That’s a flattering thought, Pat, but no, not yet.”

Oh you tease!

Pat winced. “Right, so you understand what the Church says. I cannot perform certain services for that sort of person, full stop. However…while there are these limitations, I will not turn my back on any of my Father’s children. If being the best you can involves a bit of surgery, bugger doctrine, up to a certain point.”

I couldn’t resist it. “What about women priests?”

Pat grinned, in a very evil way. “That would be a fun one to argue, but we are here to help and support Al here, so all I will say is ‘God the Father’ and leave it there for now. If you would like to come to Church, we could discuss that one in depth”

Devious bastard, but I was warming to him. “Pat, you’re right, it is Alice we are here to discuss.”

I filled him in on the story that far, up to our attempts at subtly bringing the subject out, and Anne’s reaction.

“Oh dear, I bet she has a picture of the Holy Father in the kitchen to oversee her housework. I know the type well. Which Church does she use, Al?”

“Holy Sepulchre, I think, Pat”

“Right, that’s Bill’s gaff. I think it’s time he dropped a sermon or two about all God’s chillun’s needing love. Good thinking, Alice. Leave it with me. I promise nothing, but I do have some rather juicy gossip about Bill from seminary days if he decides to be an arse about it”

He grinned again. “No, no blackmail, that would be a sin. Bill’s a sound man, he will understand. Alice, all of this discussion has been under the holy seal of the confessional. If I am to be open with Father Bill I need your permission to do so.”

Alice smiled at him, and I could see the hope in her eyes. “Certainly, Pat.”

“OK then, we have a plan. Bless you, my child, te absolvo. Go and sin no more.”

He sat back. “Fuck, Tony, I seem to have rather damaged your bottle. I will have to see if can find you a replacement when you come to Church”