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“Your daughter needs fresh values; she needs to come back to the words of the Lord. She has been a seeker of lust and self interest. The Lord will punish her; it is the way of the Lord.”
“Mum, he is talking bullshit”, I said, with tears welling up in my eyes.
Mum stood by the kitchen door, a handkerchief held to her mouth. She stared at the priest.
“Father O’Connor, I think it’s time you left, and, what’s more, I think it best you do not return. In spite of what you may think, we happen to love our daughter and she is not going to hell or any other crazy place that’s in that head of yours. So, off you go, quick smart!”
Mum was angry. I don’t think I had ever seen her so angry, so hurt.
Mum sat on the couch wringing out her handkerchief, tears running down her face.
“How did you meet Bob, this lover boy of yours?”
“We met one day down the street, it was casual. Then I saw him again on another day and he asked me would I have a lunch with him? I said yes. He was so nice. He did not brag, or talk loud, or show off, nothing like that; I just enjoyed his company so much”.
“Sounds like it to me”, said mum.
“So, one day, it was the weekend you and Dad were away somewhere, we went on his motorbike”.
“His what?”
“I said, his motorbike. It was wonderful. I could feel all this wind rushing through my hair. I had my arms around him tight but I was not a bit scared. And we drove out through Ringwood and on to Lilydale and Healesville and over this wonderful thing called the Black Spur. I have never seen trees like the ones growing by the side of the road. And all these ferns and things and the sun shining down into the little gullies as we sped past. It was just so lovely”.
