Edward Kane, Advocate in A Promise is a Promise: Chapter 10

“So - you live to fight another day, then Mr K.”Kane sat sipping his tea: “Heavens be praised, yes, but that other day is precisely three days hence. No doubt about it - his lordship was being pursued relentlessly by the Blue Devils this morning.”

Edward Kane, Advocate in A Promise is a Promise

Master and man laughed. “I suppose that gives you a couple of days, sir, to find that priest – ‘Father Flanagan’ - the one what wrote all the Latin.”

“Oh, the Latin is their problem now, Mr Horse. It is for them to find a translator, not us.”

Horse frowned: “Better safe than sorry, sir. What church was it again?”

“Chapel of St Mary’s.”

“That’ll be the one off Queen’s Street, sir.”

Kane raised his eyebrows that Mr Horse should know this so readily. Horse grinned: “That’s where my little friend Bridget – the barmaid at the White Hart – that’s where she puts on her scarf of a Sunday.”

Kane smiled and shook his head. Mr Horse seemed to have quite a number of ‘little friends’.

“Tell you what, Mr K – I’ll get me to the church tomorrow and see if I can’t find that Father Flanagan.”

Kane laughed: “Be careful, Mr Horse, that you don’t find yourself in one of those confessional boxes. Given your past, you might not get out...”

*****

The following morning, when Kane arrived at the solicitors’ offices, he found the doors shut. A note was pinned to the door: “Due to the Indisposition of a Family Member these Offices will be closed until Tomorrow.”

*****

Mr Horse had waited until evening Mass had finished and the (mainly female) worshippers had streamed out of the front entrance of St Mary’s Chapel. But the throng did not disperse entirely, and a group of ladies stood waiting.

Horse shook his head: What is it about women and priests?

And then the good Father emerged. But this was not what Horse was expecting. Tall, handsome - and all of twenty-four! Horse sighed to himself: This here devil-dodger was probably still at school when those parish entries were made.

Once the young Father had granted a final benediction and dismissed his admirers, he noticed that Horse had been waiting patiently. The priest looked over and spoke with a gentle Irish brogue: “Can I help you, my son?”

“I was looking for Father Flanagan...”

“I am Father Flanagan.”

“Yes, but, eh, Father Patrick Flanagan.”

“I am Father Patrick Flanagan”

“The one what writes all the Latin and the like.”

The young priest smiled: “Ah - that would be Old Father Flanagan...”

“Is he still about?”

“Old Father Flanagan died these seven years ago.”

Horse looked crestfallen. Seeing this, the young priest laid his hand on Horse’s shoulder: “But the Church that he served is eternal. What is it that ails you, sir?”

“I got some Latin what the old Father wrote in the parish register and I need to get it..get it...”

“Translated?”

“That’s it - ‘translated’.”

Flanagan smiled: “That will not be a problem, Mr...Mr?

“‘Horse’. They calls me ‘Horse’.”

Young Father Flanagan held out his hand: “Just give the document to me, Mr Horse, and I will be happy to translate it for you.”

And then it struck Horse at that moment that he had brought no such document with him.

The young priest interpreted Horse’s silence, noticing that his visitor was empty-handed: “Ah - you have forgotten it....”

“I can run up and get them, sir.”

“I’m afraid that I have other, pressing duties to attend to this evening, Mr Horse. Perhaps another time? Sunday? After Mass? Would that suit?”

“I would need it by tomorrow night, sir.”

“Then what about tomorrow evening - after evening Mass? I will be carrying out my home visits, in any event. Would that suit?”

Horse nodded, still feeling somewhat remiss.

The young priest gave a gentle smile: “And don’t vex yourself that you forgot those papers. Remember: Errare Humanum Est...”

Horse looked blank.

“‘To err is human’, Mr Horse, to err is human...”

*****

Jim Sim laughed: “I confess, Edward, that I was tempted to go straight home and have a stiff drink myself...”

Jim Sim and Edward Kane were walking up and down Parliament Hall, revisiting Sim’s recent roasting by the old judge, “Liquid” Lambert.

Kane laughed: “I did wonder if there was a medicinal cure for being savaged by a lubricated Senator?”

Sim smiled: “There is indeed, Edward: issuing an enormous fee-note!” They laughed. “My instructing solicitor, Old Man Fergusson seems to enjoy being in a state of near-apoplexy the majority of the time, so I thought that I would help him along with a substantial fee of several guineas.” The friend laughed and Sim continued: “You will have gathered by now, Edward, that the red letter was, in fact, written by Old Man Fergusson.”

Kane frowned: “But why should Fergusson take the slightest interest in the romantic affairs of his lowly writing clerk. It makes no sense.”

Sim nodded: “It makes sense, Edward, when you understand that the old man does not approve of mixing the thoroughbred with the mongrel...”

“Jim! I am shocked at the sheer indelicacy here. Young Rosemary Daisy might be an orphan, but...”

Sim held up his hand: “The dogs, Edward. The dogs. It transpires that Rosemary Thomas and Thomas Tack were not the only lovers at play here.”

Kane stood and processed this. Sim continued: “And if you seek proof of any amorous - if canine - congress, Edward, then would I invite you to attend at the offices of Fergusson and Fergusson and see for yourself a large basket containing five young pups. Half-miniature poodle, half-mongrel. How do you think that came about, my friend?”

Kane thought for a moment, then: “So this whole ill-feeling has nothing to do with Rosemary Daisy Thomas or Thomas Tack...”

“The historic animosity between Old Man Fergusson and your own solicitor has not helped, Edward. The real issue here relates to pure breeding.”

Sim placed his hand on Kane’s arm: “In any event, study the church papers, Edward. It will soon become clear that your lady, the fragrant Rose, will not survive cross-examination in the matter. Indeed, you may find something of a mongrel in your own basket...”

“A Promise is a Promise” continues on Monday, when the secret of the parish records is revealed.