Respect all, fear nun - part two

By Diana the Valkyrie

An inspector calls



The letter confirming that the defunding had been rescinded, duly
arrived. No surprise - Justin Graham had sworn on a bible that
this would be done, and that's binding. But our celebrations were
short-lived. That letter was swiftly followed by another, telling
us that we were going to be inspected.

If that sounded ominous, it's because it was. Not because we were
doing anything wrong, but because today's America is a place where
officials like the mayor make use of official systems to get what
they personally want. Yes, that is corruption, but this is how it
is now.

We were in his way. He wanted the orphans to be in his privately
run, for-profit, orphan machine - and the sisters of St Hilda wanted
the orphans to have the best experiences growing up, that we could
give them.

I told  Nancy, the Mother Superior. "Deal with it," she said, not
unkindly. "I have great confidence in you, Fiona, and I'll pray
for you." Prayer is good, of course, but I wanted more. "Could I
borrow one of the novices?" I asked. "What for?" asked the Mother
Superior. "When the inspectors call, I want to shadow them, to
make sure they don't make up stuff about us. So I need the extra
pair of hands. Could I borrow Daisy?" "You mean, Sister Vache?"
"Yes." "OK, that's fine, you can have her for two weeks."

She was called Sister Vache for a reason. And her nickname was Daisy
for the same reason - a cow's udders can hold six gallons of milk,
and a cow's teats are about two inches long. Daisy wasn't anywhere
near that big - but nicknames don't have to be accurate.

Daisy arrived the next Monday, and our inspection started on the
Wednesday. That gave me two days to explain to Daisy what I wanted
her to do. In brief, I wanted the inspector's attention focused
on Daisy, and for him to give us an "outstanding" score, Daisy
being rather "outstanding" herself. The wimple hid her hair very
effectively, but not even a habit could conceal her massive assets,
especially if she bent over, or raised her arms over her head.

All of that went out of the window when the inspector arrived. I
hadn't taken on board the possibility that the inspector would
be female, and totally immune to Daisy. I suppose I should have
listened to Murphy's Law - "if something can go wrong, then it will".

We got a "Fail", of course.

When I read the report, I was fuming. She'd failed us because of the
dogs. She thought that they were unnecessary, expensive to feed,
and unhygienic. She hadn't bothered to ask anyone about them,
she just jumped to a conclusion.

I sent Daisy back to the mother house with thanks to the
Mother Superior, and an explanation of why Daisy hadn't been
the ace-in-the-hole that I'd hoped for, and that we'd failed
the inspection. "So what happens now," asked Mother Superior,
and I confessed that I didn't know. "So find out, and fix it,"
she ordered. "Yes, Mother," I said.

After compline, I called a staff meeting; me, Nora and Mandy. I
should explain - St Hilda nuns have six "hours", as prescribed
by Benedict.  These are matins (the middle of the night), prime
(sunrise), terce (9am), sext (noon), vespers (sunset) and compline,
at bed time. Muslims pray five times each day, and they think they
have it tough!

So, six times each day, we all troop along to the gym, and spend
half an hour pumping iron and praying - yes, you can do both at
once, because one is physical and the other is spiritual. Daytime
is not good for staff meetings, the kids need our attention, so we
usually get together after compline.

First, I led us in a short prayer, that God may bless our endeavours
and bring us to success. Then we talked about the impending closure
of the orphanage on "hygiene grounds".

"I see the evil hand of Justin Graham behind this," said Nora. I
pointed out that he'd sworn on a bible, so it couldn't really
be him. "Then who?"  asked Mandy. I confessed myself baffled,
but I did have one idea. "Which is?"  asked Mandy. "Cui bono,"
I said. "Qui what?" said Mandy. So I explained.  "Who is going to
benefit from closing the orphanage?" I asked. "If we can find that
out, then there's a good chance we've found the nasty scroat who
has been tempted by the devil to bring evil to our house."

Don't worry, "scroat" isn't swearing.



Read the rest of the story on https://www.amysconquest.com