‘Of course, Mother. When is it to be?’ She sounded like a French aristocrat enquiring when the guillotine would be set up. ‘It’s really a painless process, Sister,’ Sister Joan soothed. ‘Mother Dorothy, may we stay for coffee if it’s offered?’ ‘I have been thinking that as you’re going to be in town anyway,’ Mother Dorothy said, ‘it might be a gesture of charity to call upon the Pendons with our sympathy, perhaps take some flowers? Do we have anything suitable, Sister Martha?’ ‘I cut some very pretty dahlias yesterday,’ Sister Martha said. ‘I could make a pretty spray of them.’ ‘Go and do it at once, Sister.’ Mother Dorothy turned to the others. ‘I know we don’t usually supply flowers for every funeral, but this seems such a sad and needless tragedy that I feel we should make an exception. The parents will require every ounce of compassion that we can offer. Oh, and you may take coffee if it is offered.’ Breakfast, cooked by Sister Teresa, was over, the nuns dispersing to their various duties.
