I muttered the to affirmative. The windows were open now and every fanwas making its concerted effort, to move the staid air. I adjudicatedthe straps ...f my bra. It was a dainty little affair, this brassier: agentle cyan, with a delicate helping of lace enclosing each gap. Thecashier had asked what size his girlfriend was. Had she known? My pokerface was stretched to the limit. I fed in my PIN. The clothing had beenfurrowed into the depths of the bag. And it was mine.The heat was intense in the. "Shit, Father! I'm so sorry!" I blurted out, apologising for my phone ringing in church while at the same time spitting out a profanity in the house of God. "Shit!" I cursed again as I realised I'd sworn, but clearly unable to think of another word with which to replace the expletive with.Fr Dempsey did look a touch annoyed—or maybe more hurt—but again smiled as he saw me panic then fumble around with my handbag trying to receive what at that point sounded like the loudest ringtone ever.. More

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