Prislop Monastery

I — Ana

I brought the house documents in a folder with an elastic fastening, although there was nobody at Prislop who would ask us for them. I put them in my bag on top of the water bottle. At every bend I could feel the folder’s corner against my knee and thought about how I would start the conversation on the way back.

Radu was driving. He had only told me on Thursday evening that he could come, after I had asked twice. That morning he had waited outside my block of flats with the engine running and two coffees. Mine had milk in it. I had stopped taking milk a few years ago, but I said nothing.

Mum had died in February. Since then, Dad had been sleeping in the same room and heating up too much food. The house had four rooms, a stove that needed rebuilding and a roof for which Radu had sent me three quotes. I wanted us to sell and find Dad a flat near me. Radu had written in the group chat: ‘We can’t decide everything in a week.’ Seven months had passed.

At Prislop I hoped to understand what I ought to do. I had not prepared a question to put to anyone. I wanted to pray without my phone beside my elbow, as it was at home, and leave able to choose.

Near the church, Radu asked whether he should wait for me.

‘I don’t know how long I’ll be.’

‘I didn’t ask how long.’

I lifted the bag onto my shoulder. The folder’s elastic had caught on the lining. While I freed it, he stayed beside me with his hands in his pockets.

‘You can come,’ I said.

II — Radu

I bought two coffees because that was what I used to do when I went on trips with my parents. Only when I saw the untouched cup did I remember that Ana no longer took milk. We had not seen each other since the memorial service, but we had spoken almost every day about one thing or another that needed paying for.

I had taken the day off. I did not tell her how much negotiating it had taken; she would have started counting all the days she had missed work. I knew about them. There was still a photograph on my phone of the sheet she had stuck to the fridge: medicines, times, numbers. I had received the photograph; she had lived beside the sheet.

I did not expect anything to happen to me at Prislop. I had come because she had asked, and because we would have to sit in the car together without being able to end the conversation with ‘we’ll talk later’. Even so, all we had discussed on the way was a lorry, coffee and where I had left a pair of glasses.

Ana was looking at the stone church. I took out my phone, saw a quote for roofing sheets on the screen and put it away. The tower rose above the roof; I did not know which side Mum had entered from when she came here. I should have asked her then.

‘Have you eaten anything?’ I asked Ana.

She shook her head. I had two sandwiches wrapped in paper in my rucksack. I told her I would keep them for later.

An older man was trying to fasten a bag, gripping it between his knees. He asked me to hold it for a moment. I took the handles, he stuffed a waistcoat inside, then pulled the zip all the way shut. When he thanked me, Ana had turned towards us.

‘Are you staying here?’ she asked.

‘I am.’

She went to find somewhere she could pray. I held her bag. I could see the folder of documents through the opening.

III — Ana

While I stood apart, things I needed to do kept coming to mind: ring the builder, buy Dad a bathroom light bulb, find a box for the crockery nobody used any more. I had begun my prayer three times, and each time I ended up at the same house.

I had become angry with Radu before I said anything to him. In my mind, he had come with a day off and two sandwiches, while I had come with the past few years. Then I remembered that I had not even asked him what was in his rucksack. Whatever he brought already seemed too little to me.

Mum had once phoned me from here, long before she became ill. She had not told me anything unusual. She had said she would be late home and asked me to check whether Dad had taken the bread out of the freezer. I had been annoyed: I was at work and she was ringing about bread. Now I remembered how hurried my answer had been.

When I returned, Radu was holding the bag with both hands to stop it slipping. I took it and got out the water bottle. He unwrapped a sandwich and gave it to me with the paper folded back at one end.

‘Even if we do the roof,’ I began, ‘it won’t sort out the rest.’

‘I know.’

‘And I can’t keep going round every evening.’

‘I never said you should.’

‘But I do.’

He stood with the empty paper in his hand. I wanted to add something about quotes and how easy it was to send a file. Instead, I asked him:

‘What did Dad tell you he wants?’

Radu looked at me.

‘About the house?’

I nodded.

‘That we’ll talk when you come too.’

He had told me we would talk when Radu came. I opened the bag to put the water away. The folder was there. I left it inside.

IV — Radu

Ana asked for my sandwich paper and folded it together with hers. She had done that since she was little: cleared away what was left before everyone else had finished. I told her to leave the bag with me until we went.

‘I still think we need to sell,’ she said.

I had not expected her to change her mind. Nor was I convinced that a flat was the answer. Dad spent a good part of the day in the yard. In a block of flats he would have to learn even where to sit when he wanted to be alone.

‘I don’t want us to decide today,’ I told her.

‘When, then?’

I took out my phone. I was busy the following Sunday, but I could rearrange Saturday. I checked the calendar and showed her the day.

‘We’ll both go. I’ll stay until Monday. You can come back whenever you need to.’

Ana read what I had written against Saturday, then asked whether I had spoken to Dad.

‘I’ll ring him this evening.’

She began to say something and stopped. I could hear myself saying the very words I usually ended our conversations with. I looked at the screen again.

‘I’ll ring him now.’

‘Don’t ask him about the documents straight away,’ she said.

I wanted to tell her I knew that much. Instead, I found his number. Ana stayed beside me. I did not know whether she had found what she had come to Prislop to look for. She had eaten the sandwich, and she had not put the folder in my arms.

Nobody answered the first call. I waited a little and rang again. When I heard the connection, Ana moved close enough to listen.

‘Dad?’