Isabella jogged steadily through the seemingly endless vineyards, listening to the birds in the trees and bushes greeting the new day. She ran five to seven kilometres every morning. Whatever the weather. Running was a lot more than just a sporting activity for her. The rhythmic breathing, tackling the path step by step: it was much more about meditation, and had become an established part of her spiritual life.
Her running session yesterday had fallen victim to stall duty.
And on this hot Thursday, she was covering more like five kilometres than seven, as the weather was really getting to her. To escape the worst of the heat, she had got up a full hour earlier, said her morning prayers alone in the silence of the still-sleeping abbey in the convent church and then set off.
Some sisters liked to spend the quiet time after common prayers in meditation. Isabella ran.
The running sessions gave her a closeness to God that she otherwise only found in long prayers.
As she stepped out of the shade of the vineyards and negotiated the last stretch, the almost shadowless drive up to the convent, she felt as if the sun's rays were igniting her skin. Maybe she should bite the bullet and get up even earlier in the summer months to escape the heat of the sun on her runs. On the other hand, her new job at the Caterina market had her up at the crack of dawn, meaning that she could only jog every other day.
She stretched her face towards the sun, breathed in deeply, and concentrated on the burning in her lungs, which was eased with every breath she took.
Happy, at peace with herself, Isabella entered the convent building. She needed a shower and then wanted to plunge straight into life behind the walls.
Yesterday's market day had taken up a lot of prayer time. She really wanted to make up for that today, as well as to meet with Matteo to go over the latest results of her investigative work. The conversation with the saleswoman from Mazza ceramics seemed to have shed some light on the case. It wasn't much, but maybe some detail could help.
The tiles in the entrance area sparkled. So Sister Giovanna, who was in charge of cleaning this week, had already been hard at work.
That was something she found hard to get used to: her fellow sisters' striking orderliness. Of course, she also liked things to be clean, and had no problem at all with wielding the mop herself. She didn't resist; she did her duty. But some of her sisters took things really quite far. At the same time, she knew that it was also a kind of meditation for Giovanna: her way of getting close to God. Isabella thought she would stick to running.
She slipped off her running shoes, picked them up, and continued on her way in her socks, even though this meant that they got sopping wet.
She paused in the middle of the foyer. Something was up.
It was suspiciously quiet. Where was everyone?
An unpleasant feeling started to spread through her. She thought feverishly, raised her hand and counted off the days of the week on her fingers. She realised her mistake when she bent her little finger. It was Friday. Not Thursday, as she had thought.
"Oh, bother!"
Duty at the stall had completely disrupted her weekly rhythm.
This meant that they were all in the sacristy for the weekly meeting. Like every Friday morning. A shock ran through her limbs as she hastily glanced at the clock. It was already quarter past seven. The weekly meeting was therefore already in full swing. In her mind, she said goodbye to the refreshing shower, and slithered rather than walked across the freshly cleaned floor, towards the convent church.
As she stood in front of the heavy wooden double-leaf door of the sacristy, she could already hear Abbess Filomena's muffled voice.
Isabella gathered all her courage, took a deep breath, knocked firmly against the wood, and entered.
All heads turned in her direction. Her fellow sisters sat gathered on pushed-together wooden chairs in a semicircle in the middle of the sacristy and looked at her.
Seeing the whole community together was always a sublime sight for Isabella; it gave her a deep sense of belonging, in terms of her soul as well as her appearance. In the Order, they all wore the same dark uniform habit as a sign of community and that they were all equal before God. But standing in the room in her sweaty running clothes as she was, she looked and felt quite out of place.
The Abbess had found her own way to stand out visually from her fellow sisters. She always wore a gold cross with a heavy gold chain over her habit, which gave her a commanding appearance.
"Sister Isabella", she greeted her in a brittle tone. "We missed you at morning prayers."
"Er … I was out jogging and I lost track of time."
Abbess Filomena pursed her lips disapprovingly and with a brief nod told her to sit down.
Isabella listened in shame as her wet socks made a smacking sound with each step on the way to the chair.
She sat down in the empty seat next to Sister Agnieszka and avoided eye contact with the Abbess as much as possible.
"All right, now that we are all present, we can move on to the distribution of tasks." The Abbess reached into her habit and pulled out her reading glasses. She abruptly snatched up the sheets of paper lying on her lap and began to read.
Filomena was a person who liked to "write everything down so that nothing would be forgotten", as she always put it. The distribution of the convent tasks was a delicate matter. There were jobs that everyone was happy to do, such as library service or looking after guests, although there were none at the moment. Household chores, administrative tasks, orchard work and the maintenance of the extensive convent grounds were among the less desirable duties. And, generally, anything that involved venturing out beyond the walls was hated.
"We are struggling with the loss of Sister Raffaella," the Abbess began. "Both humanly and logistically. As she is no longer with us, her duties must be divided among the rest of you sisters. That means more work for all of you."
Isabella looked around curiously, looked into the faces of her fellow sisters, none of whom had reacted. Was she really the only one who had noticed that the Abbess had not included herself among those who would be lumped with extra work?
"The main thing is duty three times a week at the market stall. Sister Isabella has already done this service, and I don't see why she shouldn't continue to do so for the coming week."
An approving, even relieved murmur went through the room.
"Hrm." Someone behind Isabella gave a fake cough. She turned around and saw Sister Hildegard, who carefully avoided meeting her eye.
"I don't think Sister Isabella is the right person for such a responsible task."
"Oh?" the Abbess asked, curiously.
The note of surprise in her voice felt a little overdone to Isabella.
"And why not?"
"Well, this stall is how we represent ourselves to the outside world. And, well, Sister Isabella can lack delicacy in dealing with customers."
"In what way?" the Abbess asked sharply.
Sister Hildegard pressed on. "She can be … unfriendly towards the customers."
Isabella let out a laugh. "What makes you think that?"
"Sister Agnieszka told me. Yesterday at kitchen duty. She was watching her on the stall."
Immediately Sister Agnieszka jumped up beside her. "But I didn't say it like that at all. I meant something completely different!" Her cheeks shone red.
Sister Hildegard flashed back at her with anger: "Didn't you tell me she didn't want to serve the couple?"
Some sisters began to whisper.
"No, I mean … it was just a joke, about the way the situation looked. You're taking what I said out of context!”
Sister Isabella grabbed Agnieszka's arm and bade her sit down again. She could feel the Abbess scrutinising her. Of course, she could have defended herself, explained to everyone that the truth was about so much more than selling pesto to that couple. It was at precisely that moment that the row between Aurora and the businessman had broken out.
But she remained silent, if only to avoid involving Sister Agnieszka.
"Well," the Abbess raised her voice. "I agree that Sister Isabella's sense of duty has still got some way to go."
Isabella looked up.
"Take, for example, absence from the communal morning prayers."
"But I'm usually always there. And I thought it was voluntary! At least in my old convent in Calabria it was."
The Abbess left this point unanswered.
Sister Giovanna, whose cell was next to Isabella's, spoke up. "She hasn't been with us long, and not every convent is the same. She just has to get used to the strict— I mean, well-regulated life we lead here."
Some sisters agreed sympathetically, and Isabella's heart flooded with gratitude.
"Nevertheless," the Abbess continued. "I still think she needs to grow into her tasks."
Isabella hated it when people talked over and about her in her presence.
"I would be in favour of her taking care of the daily shopping first," Hildegard suggested.
"Hmm." The Abbess actually appeared to be thinking about it. "That sounds reasonable. At least for the next few weeks. After that, we'll see."
Isabella felt the urge to jump to her feet and protest against this injustice. But one look into the Abbess's narrowing eyes was enough to know that she would only make things worse. She was already in the Sister Superior's sights; another word here would only lead to more punitive work assignments. So she forced herself to smile and nod in agreement.
"Very well, Sister Filomena."
Sister Isabella maintained eye contact until the Abbess turned away from her.
"And now let us sing Lauds together. Afterwards, Sister Isabella will arrange the chairs and spruce up the sacristy. It could really use it."