The Devil Will Come Read Online Free PDF

energy. The nun was black – African, judging by her accent – wearing the light blue smock of a novice. He chose not to interrupt her so he carried on through the courtyard into the cool dark reception hall. A diminutive bespectacled older nun in a black habit saw him and approached.
    ‘Good day,’ he said. ‘My name is Professor De Stefano.’
    ‘Yes, you’re expected,’ the nun said in a business-like manner that contrasted with the friendly way her eyes crinkled. ‘I’m Sister Marilena, the Principal. I think her class is finished. Let me get her for you.’
    De Stefano waited, adjusting his necktie, watching the young girls rushing past to get outside.
    When she appeared, a look of fleeting disorientation crossed his face. What had it been? Eleven years? Twelve?
    She was still statuesque and darkly beautiful but seeing her now in a black scapular with her hair all but obscured by a nun’s veil seemed to derail him.
    Her skin was milky, only a few shades darker than the high-necked white vest that she wore under her square-scooped habit, the traditional dress of her order, the Augustinian Sisters, Servants of Jesus and Mary. Though she wore no make-up, her complexion was perfect, her lips naturally moist and pink. In her university days she had dressed better than the other students and had used lovely fragrances. But even allowing for the plain garb of a nun she couldn’t help but look stylishly impeccable. Her eyebrows were carefully plucked, her teeth lustrous, her nails unvarnished but manicured. And despite her billowing habit it was clear that she still cut a slim figure.
    ‘Elisabetta,’ he said.
    She smiled. ‘Professor.’
    ‘It’s good to see you.’
    ‘And you. You look well.’ She held out both her hands. De Stefano grasped them, then quickly let go.
    ‘That’s nice of you to say. But I think I’ve become an old man.’
    Elisabetta shook her head vigorously at that, then asked, ‘Shall we get some sun?’
    The courtyard was littered with playthings for the younger children. Between two potted trees was a pair of facing stone benches. Elisabetta took one and De Stefano settled onto the other, automatically reaching into his pocket.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘There’s no smoking here – the children.’
    ‘Of course,’ De Stefano said sheepishly, withdrawing an empty hand. ‘I need to quit.’
    There was a longish pause, broken when Elisabetta said, ‘You know, I hardly slept last night. I was nervous about seeing you.’
    ‘Me too,’ he admitted, barely hinting at how tense he still felt.
    ‘Most of my old friends drifted away long ago. Some of them were uncomfortable. I think others thought I had become cloistered,’ she said.
    ‘You’re able to see your family, then?’
    ‘Oh yes! At least once a week. My father lives nearby.’
    ‘Well, you look happy.’
    ‘I am happy.’
    ‘The life suits you, then.’
    ‘I can’t imagine doing anything else.’
    ‘I’m pleased for you.’
    Elisabetta studied his face. ‘You look like you’d like to ask me why.’
    De Stefano smiled broadly. ‘You’re very perceptive. Okay, why? Why did you become a nun?’
    ‘I almost died, you know. The knife missed my heart by a centimeter. I was told that some men scared away the attackers before they could finish me off. I spent two months in hospital. I had a lot of time to think. It wasn’t an epiphany. It came to me slowly but it took hold and grew, and anyway, I’d always been religious – I got that from my mother – I’d always been a believer. What I saw around me had an impact, too. All the unhappy, unfulfilled people: the doctors, the nurses, patients I met, their families. The nuns gliding through the hospital were the only ones who seemed at peace. I didn’t want to go back to university life. I realized how desperately unhappy I was, how empty, especially without my Marco in my life. Once I felt the calling everything seemed so clear.’
    ‘At the Pontifical