Author's Note: This is a light-hearted, cross-dressing mystery story, written in my normal style, which I hope you enjoy. It does contain references to adult themes, and some of its characters have little sympathy with the Catholic Church. Please don't read if you feel this will upset you.

CHAPTER 9 - REVELATIONS
THURSDAY

Sam was just about to go down to breakfast when his phone rang.

"Hi, it's Matt."

"Hi Matt, I'm just on my way down to breakfast. Are you running late?"

"That's the problem, I'm running all the time. I think I probably have Norovirus, or something like it. I certainly can't go out today."

"Matt! I'm so sorry. How bad are you? Do you want me to come and give you some TLC?"

"It's probably better if I see as few people as possible."

"You're right," Sam agreed. "I'm afraid you're going to have a boring few days whilst I explore the convents of Yorkshire."

"I think it's quite possible you'll come down with the same virus," Matt said, "I think you should stay here in the hotel, rather than spreading it around."

"I haven't any sign of it yet," Sam said. "Of course, it's possibly your kiss last night gave me rather more than expected, but I can't stay in communicado just because it might happen. I'll go over to the Convent of Immaculate Conception, this morning. I can then start on the others after lunch."

"I really don't think that's wise," Matt said. "You could come down with it at any minute."

***

The problem was that when someone suggests something like that, you keep thinking it might come true. So although Sam went to the toilet after breakfast, as soon as he'd left the hotel he started worrying he might suddenly need to go again. He made an abrupt about turn, almost bumping into a group of school boys, clearly playing truant, who jeered at his modest – but still short – skirt, as well as two evil-looking guys who'd obviously been staring at his wobbling buttocks, and retraced his steps to the hotel.

But after sitting on the toilet seat for a few minutes, he knew that he was not yet experiencing the symptoms of Norovirus. As he walked back across the hotel foyer, he toyed with the idea of having another coffee before he left. And that's when he saw Matt.

The very same Matt who, an hour earlier was in the throes of Norovirus, was now breakfasting on fried bacon, mushrooms and egg, and had several slices of toast piled up on the table, awaiting his attention.

He was deeply immersed in a phone call, so Sam had no problem approaching the table without him noticing.

"I really think we shouldn't go that far," he was saying when he caught sight of Sam. His mouth dropped open, and Sam was able to pluck the phone out of his hand without resistance.

"...you failed to distract her in the Cotswolds," Geraldine was saying, "you failed to direct her to the little 'car accident' I'd arranged. You even failed with this stupid Norovirus stunt. Just remember that if Charley is fool enough to marry you, it will be your fortune too, so you can stop whingeing. It's all done through a private detective so it's not traceable back to us. Just a little beating up, just enough to teach the evil little..."

Sam disconnected the call. "So, you're planning to marry Charley," he said to Matt. Strangely, it was that which hurt more than anything, even though Sam had hardly been honest about his own situation.

Matt shrugged. "I've asked her several times. I think eventually she'll accept."

"Does she know what you're up to?"

"Hell! No. Charley mustn't find out."

"Mustn't find out that you connived with her mother to set thugs on me? They were following me just now, weren't they?"

"That had nothing to do with me."

Sam was stll clutching Matt's phone. He flicked through the call records. "You called Geraldine just after nine, which was about the time I left the hotel. Did you watch me leave through your bedroom window?"

Matt shrugged. "So I told Geraldine. I didn't know what she was going to do about it."

"You've spoken to her several times," Sam continued as he perused the call records, "including a call from her on Sunday before you came to pick me up, and in the afternoon just before we went on the pier. No wonder she 'accidentally' bumped into us."

"I suppose it's too late to say sorry?"

"Sorry! Those two guys were going to beat the hell out of me, perhaps slash my face, and you want to say sorry. Just pack your bags and get out of here. I never want to see you again."

"Can I have my phone back?"

"What, so you can make more arrangements with Geraldine to have me beaten up? No chance. I'll give it to Charley when I see her next."

"But how do I get home?" he whined.

"You can walk, or you can stay in Sheffield for life. It's your choice."

***

"I was worried Geraldine might do something stupid," GG said after Sam had telephoned him and told him what he had discovered. "That was the reason I suggested you take Matthew with you, little realising he was the viper in the bosom.

"The stupid, greedy girl," he continued. "How could she set a bunch of thugs onto another woman? I shall ring her now and tell her that if anything happens to you, then she is out of the will, and so is Charley if she marries Matthew."

"What should I do, GG?" Sam asked.

"Stay in the hotel and see the manager and tell him some thugs have been employed to beat you up. Ask him to keep his staff alert to anyone roaming the hotel. I think you'll be safe outside within a few hours, but you can't be too careful. Come home tomorrow, first thing."

"Yes, GG."

***

"Good morning," Sam said to the nun who had promptly opened one of the metal gates in response to his ring. Rather than wasting the rest of the day, Sam had decided to get a taxi to the Convent of Immaculate Conception.

"And a fine good day to you, too," came the reply in such a broad Irish accent, Sam half expected her to finish with a "Begorra."

"Will you be coming in to join us?" the nun continued, pulling the gate wide to reveal a sunlit courtyard. "I'm Sister Mary. I'm afraid our Mother Superior is taking her prayers at the moment. But you're welcome to enter and look around our humble convent."

"Er, right. Thank you," Sam said, stepping through the gate.

Sister Mary slammed the gate shut, cutting off all sounds of the noisy city outside.

"This is delightful," Sam said, looking around the courtyard, full of potted plants and shrubs, many already in flower.

"That it is," Sister Mary said. "That it is."

"I'm trying to find out details…" Sam commenced.

"You'll need to talk to the Mother Superior," Sister Mary said. "I'm sure she'll do her best to help you. In the meantime, would you like some refreshments?"

"Will the Mother Superior be long?" Sam asked.

"It's difficult to know. It might be an hour, or it could be much longer."

"Much longer?" Sam said, "But I don't…"

"That's all right, madam. You're not intruding. In fact, we're always pleased to see visitors. I'll go and get some refreshments for you." Further comments were rendered redundant, as she disappeared through a door to one side of the entrance he had just come through.

Sam wondered around the courtyard, examining the three-storey cloistered buildings which ran around the courtyard on three sides, with the fourth side occupied by a chapel. I take it back, he thought, about not wanting Samantha to have been here. It's lovely.

Sister Mary returned carrying a tray with some glasses and a pitcher of what looked like home-made lemonade. She placed it down on a table and bade him to sit down and enjoy the lemonade.

"Who could have thought," Sam said, sipping the delicious drink, "that such a beautiful place could be here, amongst all this industrialisation?"

"It was here before the industrialisation," Sister Mary said. "The stones were laid down in..." and she commenced on a long history of the convent.

"I'm certain that," Sam said, jumping in when she temporarily paused for breath, "if Samantha Harper did come here, she'd have found it a wonderful place."

He had said the words wondering whether he would see any reaction to Samantha's name. He was not disappointed.

"Samantha Harper!" Sister Mary gasped. "You're looking for news of Samantha Harper?"

"Her father is still trying to find out what happened to her," Sam said, "and I suspect she may have been my grandmother. You obviously knew her."

"I arrived here on Maundy Thursday, 1966, just two days before she did. As she stepped through that metal door from the street, the setting sun lit up her hair and gave her a halo. It was a sign.

"We struck up a natural bond, being new girls together, but everybody loved her. It broke all our hearts when she died."

"Then she is long dead?" Sam asked.

"I think the Mother Superior won't be long now," Sister Mary said.

***

Two hours later, Sam was on the road back to Seacombe. Most of that time had been spent waiting for Mother Superior to arrive, but it had been well worth it.

Of course, it still hadn't explained the question of how Samantha had arrived there in the first place – and who the father was. It was easy to assume it was Father Wigley, but Sam had his own ideas about that. Firstly, he needed to speak with Lady Bottomly again.