Sister Katherine: 'A visitor from the past.'
After the drama of David's rescue, Katherine awoke to find herself in a strange bed with no idea of where she was or how she had arrived there. Her last memory was the feeling of blissful release as the injection took hold, but as she lay there in a semi-conscious state between sleep and wakefulness, the memories of that awful day returned, and she shot bolt upright in the bed and cried out, "David!"
Desperately, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up on the cold floor. Her knees buckled, and she was about to pitch forward when a pair of strong hands caught hold of her as she collapsed in a dead faint.
Under sedation, she slept for another twelve hours, and this time when she awoke, there was a nurse in uniform sitting by her bed. She was in the hospital, but the nurse had only recently come on duty and had no information concerning the details of her admission.
She comforted Katherine, who had started to cry quietly, and a doctor arrived who reassured her that she was quite well but had experienced a terrible shock. He injected a sedative and told her to sleep for a few more hours. He would return when she awoke, and a nurse would always be beside her bed, so she shouldn't worry; she was perfectly safe and in good hands.
The nurse changed her night gown and attended to Katherine's personal needs before making her comfortable, and she slipped back into a deep sleep.
Long afterwards, she would recall little about her stay in the hospital, other than a routine of bed baths, small meals, and feeling constantly drowsy. She thought the priest may have visited her, but it could have been a dream. Her entire stay in the hospital could have been a dream; she could not differentiate between her internal thoughts and events in the outside world; it was all one. Not that it made any difference; she was content enough.
In time, they took her back to the flat. Two friendly social workers came every day and helped her with the cooking and household chores. A man, whom she thought was probably a doctor, came promptly at noon every day to check she was taking her prescribed tablets. He often had a cup of tea with the social workers and sometimes shared a little of their communal lunch.
As the days passed, he began to come less frequently as did the social workers, and then one day he came for one last time. He told her that she was fit and well and able to cope on her own. No doubt she would be glad to have her home back, he joked, and he had arranged for a very special visitor to come round to see her the next day. He wished her well and left a number where he could be contacted if needed. She should continue taking the tablets, but only the lower-strength ones, as per the new prescription.
Next morning, she awoke to an empty flat, and she had just finished her breakfast when she heard the lock turn in the front door.
"It's only me, Sister, don't concern yourself."
It was the priest come to see her.
He sat opposite her at the breakfast table, and for almost an hour they talked earnestly. When it was over, he stood, and they shook hands. The priest hesitated for a moment, then, uncharacteristically, he reached over and embraced Katherine.
"Thank you, Sister."
He walked away and placed something on a small table by the door before leaving.
It was the key to the door.
Sister Katherine never saw him again.
She slowly resumed her previous life in the flat; the emergency telephone in the bathroom had been removed, but everything else was the same, including the monthly payment into her bank account. She was not comfortable about receiving this allowance; her job here was done, but when she tried to contact the priest at the old telephone number to cancel the payment, she found that the line had been disconnected.
In the months that followed, she thought once or twice about returning to the convent in Ireland to see out her remaining years, but nothing ever came of it. The flat was her home now, she told herself, and the priest may need her again, but it was more than that; she felt compelled to stay.
David was seldom out of her thoughts, and she prayed for him every night.
Soon, two years had passed, and although Katherine felt the inevitable physical effects of ageing, her brain remained sharp. Most days passed uneventfully, but at night she experienced fantastical dreams of other worlds and another life. The dreams did not frighten her, quite the opposite, her interior life was stimulating in a way that her conscious life could not match.
The external world existed for her, but the dream world was the greater reality. There were multiple other worlds in which she had different identities, all of them equally valid.
This did not disturb her; she accepted it as a fact of conscious existence, but like most other people, she regarded whatever identity she happened to be in at the time as the original or objective self, and whatever world she currently inhabited as the original world. Memories of previous lives only rarely crossed over, and then almost always in small children.
This self-inflicted illusion acted as a panacea for any lingering rationalism, but it did not affect Katherine's religious beliefs. The multiple-reality physical universe, for her, was unified under one, all-encompassing, spiritual plane, governed by a supreme being responsible for the creation of all things. She shaped the nature of her beliefs on the narrative of the Roman Catholic Church, but accepted that there were other perspectives and other doctrines.
Since almost all placed an omnipotent being who existed outside space and time as their principal figure of worship and creator of the universe, she saw no fundamental conflict. However, for her, the only true religious faith was the doctrine of the Roman Catholic Church.
It was the Sunday before Christmas, and she was waiting in the kitchen with her coat on for a neighbour and fellow parishioner who regularly took her to Mass in his car. The doorbell rang, and she glanced at her watch. He was early, and it was a good job she was ready to go.
She turned off the little gas fire in the kitchen and made her way to the door. As usual, she struggled to open it; the lock was forever sticking, but when she finally opened the door and saw who was standing outside, she fell to the floor in a dead faint.