OOM -- Javert, in London for confession

[witchfinder_general]

This is the first time Father Harman is bringing somebody from Milliways to his world, and he is rather quiet about it.

The door leads onto a windowless corridor with plain brown doors, all closed and looking somewhat official.

"Simply follow me," he says. "There aren't many people here at this time of night, but if we meet anybody here who questions who you are, I will say it's about a spiritual problem, nothing to do with my work here."

Comments

[witchfinder_general]

"We don't have to," Father Harman says. "As I said, I've never been actually attacked in London, I'm simply cautious. Do drink your coffee, rather than spilling it."

[never_shall_yield]

'Yes.'

It is tinged with sarcasm, just barely. He tries to make up for that by doing what he is told, but it is not good coffee and he does not want it anyway.

'Caution is advisable.'

[witchfinder_general]

Of course it's not very good coffee; it came from a machine in an office building after hours. It is simply a hot drink containing caffeine.

"Caution is second nature," Father Harman replies. "That spire behind the brown building is where we're going."

It is really not very far.

[never_shall_yield]

He takes another mouthful. And then another, because he was told to. And then he tosses the rest into the street, otherwise he will be sick. The cup follows, and he puts his hands in his pockets.

'Thank you for this. I did not mean to have you come out where there might be danger.'

He is just speaking for the sake of it; he hates doing that, but he does not know what else to do.

[witchfinder_general]

"There is always a modicum of danger, everywhere, to everybody," Father Harman points out, stopping.

He takes a deep breath.

"I do realise that people in Paris in your time simply threw everything away where they stood; people still do the same in big, bustling and dirty third world cities. But here, we have litter bins -- that thing over there. You can put your used coffee cup in it, and municipal workers will take it all away later."

[never_shall_yield]

Javert stops too. He is forced to listen by the man's tone, and finds himself frowning. A cup does not seem that important.

'I will remember,' he says, in order to get them moving again.

The priest does not seem to recognise the urgency of this problem. The church spire is in sight; he is moments away. He stops to talk about a cup?

[witchfinder_general]

Father Harman finishes his own coffee and puts the cup into the bin. "Littering is illegal and punishable by a fine," he says. "Please pick up your cup and put it in there. I'm sorry about that."

He hopes Javert's crisis won't get worse if he realises he was breaking a law. The poor man!

[never_shall_yield]

Javert stares at him. And then at the cup. For a moment, he holds himself tall...and then he crumples, and walks into the gutter to retrieve the cup. He puts it in the black can with his head down, and does not raise it when he walks back to the priest.

'Can we continue now?'

His voice is low, and desperate. This was a bad idea, perhaps. It seems he cannot help doing wrong.

[witchfinder_general]

"We can," Father Harman says, and starts walking again.

He walks for a bit, then says, "There is no reason to be ashamed; you didn't know, and when I told you, you put it to right. Nobody can expect more than that. Contrition and penance in the sacrament of confession work similarly, if less profane."

[never_shall_yield]

People used to scuttle from the streets when he walked. A hardened criminal once refused to fire on him, because he dared not. Now he is dreaming of men, and picking rubbish from the street like a beggar. Well, this is what pride gets a man. He deserves no more. But it still stings.

'Of course, Father. You are right to correct me.'

There is every reason to be ashamed, but he cannot admit to why. Which only exacerbates the problem.

[witchfinder_general]

They are quite close to the church now. "I don't like to correct you, but it would be worse to just abandon you to the misunderstandings of a different time," he says, turning a corner in the dark.

A shadow vanishes into some alley or mews.

[never_shall_yield]

He lifts a shoulder, and lets it drop. It is done. His attention is caught by the shadow, but he says nothing. He is sure Harman has seen it too, and does not want to point out the obvious.

[witchfinder_general]

Harman looks into the alley, but doesn't stop to investigate longer; within a few minutes, they have reached the church, and the priest pushes the door open.

Even at this time of the evening, the church isn't closed, and there are candles burning in front of a crucifix, and of a Virgin Mary.

"Can you wait here for a moment while I fetch a priest?" he asks, leaving Javert in the half-darkness by the candles.

[never_shall_yield]

'Yes, of course.'

He leans his back against the wall, and watches the floor. He did not think to ask whether there would be a priest here at this time.

'I cannot go anywhere. I will wait.'

[witchfinder_general]

Father Harman returns after a while, another middle-aged Jesuit priest wearing black in tow. The priest has glasses, greying hair, and is otherwise rather nondescript.

"This is Father Meunier, from Quebec in Canada, who speaks both French and English as well as a number of other languages," he explains to Javert. "He will hear your confession. I will wait here in the meanwhile and take you back afterwards."

He nods, then steps back towards the candle-lit crucifix, and sits down, quietly becoming one with the surroundings.

Now, Javert will get his chance to unburden himself to a complete stranger who doesn't even know his name, in the privacy of some nameless London church of the future.-

[never_shall_yield]

Javert barely looks at the new priest. He turns towards the confessional at once, and enters without looking back.