Page 130 of The Grey Wolf
“As you can see, I’m not one of those women in positions of authority. Yet.”
“Do you mind if I record our conversation?”
“Not at all, though I doubt I’ll say anything interesting. The only reason Mother Superior brought you to me is that I speak English. There are certainly more senior women in the Curia. There are crusts of bread here with more authority than me. I’m basically a clerk.”
“A clerical cleric?” asked Lacoste and saw the sister smile again.
“Well, strictly speaking, nuns aren’t considered part of the clergy. So, a distance to go yet. Still, I hope to be elected pope one day.”
Lacoste laughed, then wondered if this woman, who was about her own age, early thirties, was serious. There was a spark of amusement, even silliness in her bright eyes.
“I would vote for you,” said Lacoste. “Though I suppose I’d have to be a member of the College of Cardinals.”
“Well, why not? Twenty years ago nuns in senior positions in the Curia would have been unthinkable. The unimaginable is happening, Ms. Lacoste. Slowly, but this is the Vatican, after all.” She paused. “You’re French.”
“Québécoise.”
Sister Irene raised her brows. “You’re far from home.”
“So are you. American?”
“From Cleveland.”
“But you speak Italian.”
“Second generation. Originally from Tuscany. Don’t ask…” Why anyone would move from Tuscany to Cleveland.
“Do the Americans all hang out?” Isabelle asked as though this were casual, polite conversation and not the opening she was hoping for.
“Like Harry’s Bar?” Sister Irene smiled. “Some do, but most learn quickly that they need to guard their secrets, their territory, and fraternizing is dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“Not physically, but professionally. Fortunately my territory does not need guarding.”
“Sounds lonely.”
Sister Irene seemed struck by that. She paused before saying, “The Curia can be lonely. I miss my friends.”
Isabelle pointed to a chair. “May I?”
“Yes, yes,” said the nun eagerly. “Please do.”
“Are there many Americans here?”
“Not many. You’d think we’d get together, even at Thanksgiving. And maybe they do.”
“You haven’t been here for a Thanksgiving?”
“No. This’s my first year.”
“Just out of curiosity, are there any priests or monks here from Québec?”
“There are hundreds of priests and monks here and I don’t knowall of them. I’m not clear what your article’s about. I thought it was women in the Curia.”
Isabelle realized she’d have to be more careful. She also realized she needed someone who’d been in the Office of the Doctrine of the Faith much longer. Who would have known Brother Sébastien when he worked there. And would know if he’d returned.
“I’m thinking it might be a good idea to take you up on your offer. Can I speak to one of the senior women?”
