I followed the procession of ageing monks to the Chapter room. I am not as infirm as some but arthritis was beginning to bite, not surprising with the dampness of the monastery. There would be a small fire burning in the stove to take the chill off the cold morning air, useless as far as I am concerned in such a cavernous room. I study the bowed heads in front of me and remembered their youthful vigour. Brother Stephen bent double he should be in the infirmary but has refused; Brother Aidan will cough his way through the entire homily and will annoy everyone. No one says a word as we pass through the oak door into the room, the Great Silence will be observed for at least a few more minutes. Those of us, who can, bow low before the abbot’s chair; a sign of subjection to the authority of the office held by the occupant. I should have been that occupant by right; Abbot John had called me to his death bed and backed me as his successor but it was overturned by that sly snake- in- the- grass Leo.

I took my place and waited for the abbot to arrive. I began to muse on my early days in the monastery. I had entered with such zeal; I was going to change the world despite the trauma I had left behind at home. When I had announced to my parents I wanted to enter the religious life they laughed and dismissed my wishes as mere fantasy. My father made it abundantly clear that my place was by his side working the family farm. I wanted to be educated and make something of my life. When I voiced these sentiments my father struck me hard causing me to stumble across the kitchen floor. I have never forgotten that moment. My hand touches the spot where struck. No one spoke as I left that October morning. I have never spoken to my family since; I don’t even know if my parents are alive or dead. Leo entered the monastery on the same day. He came from a rich background and was supported by his family. I instantly took a disliking to his arrogant ways; he looked down on any monk who did not hale from the wealthy class. I could not see how he justified his manner with the gospel maxims but the neither could I.

Over the years my dislike festered like a boil. Abbot John appeared to favour him because of the endowments his family kept bestowing on the monastery. I remember one occasion in this very Chapter room discrediting Leo’s theological arguments as he squirmed trying to defend himself I put in the proverbial dagger and twisted. I was told to desist by the abbot and apology to Leo. I refused. I never spoke to Leo from that day. He would try taunting me into a debate but I would look at him with such hatred he would physically cower.

A bell rings somewhere in the depths of the abbey announcing the end of the Great Silence. Nobody says a word, when you have lived with the same men around you for decades there is little to say. My hand slips under my robes and grasps the small phial. Nobody has missed the abbot; he’s not a saintly man and often arrives late for Chapter. I smile across to Brother Thomas who catches my eye and glances sideways towards the abbot’s chair. I smile back. I hear shouting in the cloisters. I know what it’s about and remain calm, the others look anxious such commotion is unseemly in the monastery. A young novice, Michael I think, rushes into the chapter room and announces something has happened to the abbot. I rest my head against the stone wall and smile as the monks begin to chatter, exchanging their theories of the demise of the abbot. Brother Thomas looks across and smiles. I smile back.

I rise from my chair and hold up my hands for silence as I do so the phial drops to the floor. I tell the assembled monks to go about their daily work if there is further news they will be told. I am surprised how easy it is to direct these ‘lost sheep’. I stoop to pick up the phial, only Brother Thomas has noticed.

I know I must dispose of the evidence but there will be time later.