A Matter of Honor

“Another what, my son?”

“Well, I took her up to my room.”

“Yes, my son?”

“And she started to undress.”

“And then what happened?”

“She started to undress me.”

“Did you try to resist, my son?”

“Yes, Father, but it got harder.”

“And did intercourse take place?” asked the priest.

“I’m afraid so, Father, couldn’t stop myself. She was very beautiful,” Adam added.

“And is it your intention to marry this girl, my son?”

“Oh, no, Father, I’m already married and have two lovely children, Seamus and Maureen.”

“It is a night you must forever put behind you.”

“I’d like to, Father.”

“Has this happened before?”

“No, Father, it’s the first time I’ve been abroad on my own. I swear to it.”

“Then let it be a lesson to you, my son, and may the Lord find it in his mercy to forgive you this abominable sin, and now you must make your act of contrition.”

“Oh, my God … .”

When Adam had completed the act of contrition the priest pronounced absolution and told him he must as penance say three decades of the Rosary.

“And one more thing.”

“Yes, Father?”

“You will tell your wife everything the moment you return to Ireland, or you cannot hope for atonement. You must promise me that, my son.”

“When I see my wife I will tell her everything that happened last night, Father,” Adam promised, as he once again checked through the curtains. The police were no longer anywhere to be seen.

“Good, and continue to pray to our Blessed Lady to keep you from the evils of temptation.”

Adam folded up his paper, pushed it in the trench coat, and bolted from the little box and took a seat on the end of a pew. He lowered his head and began to whisper the Lord’s Prayer as he opened the map of Geneva and began to study the road plan. He had located the British consulate on the far side of a large garden square by the time he reached, “Deliver us from evil.” He estimated that it was just over a mile away from the cathedral, but seven streets and a bridge had to be negotiated before he would be safe. He returned to the Lady Chapel and his knees. Adam checked his watch. It was too early to leave Saint Peter’s, so he remained head in hands for another thirty minutes going over the route again and again. He watched a party of tourists being conducted through the cathedral. His eyes never left them as they began to move nearer and nearer to the great door at the west end of the aisle. He needed to time it to perfection.

Suddenly Adam rose and walked quickly down the side aisle reaching the porch only a yard behind the party of tourists. They shielded him out on to the square. Adam ducked under a shop awning at the side of the road, then walked round three sides of the square to avoid the one policeman on duty by the north corner. He crossed the first road as the light turned red and headed up a one-way street. He kept on the inside of the pavement, knowing he had to turn left at the end of the road. Two uniformed policemen came round the corner and walked straight toward him. He jumped into the first shop without looking and turned his back on the pavement.

“Bonjour, monsieur,” said a young lady to Adam. “Vous désirez quelque chose?” Adam looked around him. Lissome dummies in panties and bras with garters and fasteners and long black nylon stockings stood all around him.

“I’m looking for a present for my wife.”

The girl smiled. “Perhaps a slip?” she suggested.

“Yes,” said Adam, “definitely a slip. Do you have one in burgundy?” he asked, as he half turned to watch the policemen stroll past.