“It’s good to see you arrive so early!” exclaimed Chadora when Ana arrived in the Brothel chapel in her smartest clothes, worn so rarely since her interview. She had combed her hair carefully, applied the lipstick with which she so rarely bothered and cut her fingernails with fastidious attention. She was very anxious about her visit to the Convent. She so wanted to make a good impression on Binta’s former lover. At least she hoped it was her former lover, and the barely vocalised fear that this might not be wholly the case made her feel terribly insecure.

Chadora was dressed in her normal working dress and was fussing about the chapel. She had laid hymn books in front of every pew, and organised the selection of hymn sheets on the board. Ana watched Chadora unhurriedly straighten a few cushions and cross herself in front of the altar. She strolled towards Ana through the fragmented kaleidoscope of light from the stained glass windows above the altar and smiled warmly.

“It looks like a fine day for visiting the Convent, God Willing!” Chadora commented, taking Ana’s arm in hers and escorting her out of the Brothel through an exit Ana hadn’t been aware of before. It avoided the main reception area and led the two of them through the Brothel recruitment office where a slim girl with quite a long nose sat bored at the desk reading a newspaper. She stood up sharply as Chadora and Ana entered, but relaxed immediately.

“Good morning, sister!”

“Good morning, Qabiha. How has your day been?”

“Just two visitors today, sister. Neither very interested I thought. I shan’t earn much commission at this rate.”

“God willing there may be more,” Chadora remarked, leading Ana out of the door and into the streets beyond. The Convent was in a distant suburb of the city, and it was necessary to travel there by bus. Chadora took Ana to the bus stop several blocks away and they sat on the waiting bus as it prepared to leave. Ana envied the respect Chadora received from passers by, and remarked on this.

“The way I dress does indeed make a difference,” Chadora agreed. “I am a servant of God, and therefore I am accorded respect. That is a good thing and something for which I am very grateful. When I worked in the Brothel as a prostitute I wore very different clothes, was seen as a servant of men’s lust and was treated with as much contempt as I am now treated with honour. I am essentially the same person but in my capacity as a whore I truly earned the disrespect that was shown towards me, for I was indeed nothing better than an expensive diversion for men who would be better focusing their attentions on higher spiritual values. But it is not for me to condemn. The Lord’s will is that all should be loved equally: high or low, misguided or enlightened. After all, He has shown His great love and mercy by welcoming me into His bosom where I can now compensate for all that I did in my early days.”

“Do you regret having worked as a prostitute?” Ana wondered as the bus moved off.

“Regret is the wrong word. No, my regret is that it took me so long to surrender myself to His ministry. There were so many wasted years, but the Lord be Praised I am now wholly dedicated to His service. But this is my decision. It may be that I would never have chosen such a vocation had my earlier one not been so very different. I have foresworn marriage to a man, and have opted instead for the more worthwhile and absolute marriage which is that to God and His Church. No other love is greater than His, and no love is more satisfying than that I feel towards Him. Unlike a man He will never abandon me. He cares for me when I err. He loves me when I am miserable. And His capacity for forgiveness is infinite. What man can possibly offer so much?”

Ana blushed. She had no real knowledge of the love a man could give, but felt that it must be very much secondary to the love that Binta offered her, or that she felt towards Binta. This was not a subject she wished to discuss with Chadora.

The chaplain smiled at Ana. “We are now on our way to the Convent. Like the church, the chapel and the cathedral it is a house of God, and a place where, together with my sisters, I too spent a happy year of my life dedicating myself to the worship of the Lord. It is a place of great spiritual beauty. A place where my love for the Lord was encouraged and nurtured, and where I discovered I no longer needed the distraction offered by a man’s temporal love. It is not an easy matter to abandon the affection of physical or sexual love. It is difficult and occasionally frustrating. Especially for one such as I who had made love to men maybe more than a dozen times every day. It was not because I dislike such activity. Indeed, like Ketaba, it occasionally gave me feelings of great usefulness to the poor men who felt the need to buy a prostitute’s services and, I’m afraid, it was sometimes very pleasant. Unlike your friend Binta, men do not repulse me at all. I became a novice from a wish to worship and serve, and not to escape from another way of life.”

“What’s life like in the Convent?”

“Austere. Very austere. There are no distractions from the main purpose of worship. There is no television, no shopping, no parties and definitely no men. Indeed, had you been a male friend of Binta’s, it would have been a much more difficult excursion to organise or even gain permission to do so. “

The Convent was no less austere in appearance than Chadora’s description of its daily routine of prayer, bible readings and good deeds was in activity. At first, Ana was sure that the tall imposing walls surrounded a prison. It must have been just as effective in preventing Mezyana from escaping and seeking her liberty in the streets of Blad outside. However, the entrance was quite unlike that of a prison, although the large metal doors were just as functional for security purposes. Chadora explained that unlike a prison the gates were there to keep intruders out rather than to keep the nuns in.

“How does that relate to Mezyana’s sentence?” Ana countered.

Chadora noticeably blushed. “I believe that the use of the Lord’s house as a prison or as a punishment goes against its spirit. Just as your boss, the Director, forever complains about having to act as a prison governor as well as the head of a commercial enterprise, I would say that God also protests at the abuse of His house for such a base and unspiritual rôle. For Mezyana, this place is indeed a prison. Just as the Brothel is to her partner in crime. I don’t know Mezyana, of course. She isn’t one of my wards. But I would hope that her attitude is not that the Convent is only a prison, although I doubt she has any more freedom than your friend, Ferhana. I hope she benefits from serving the Lord and recognises His love in allowing her to do so at the behest of President Marmeluke’s government.”

Chadora rang the doorbell to the Convent’s entrance, and entered into an exchange with a woman on the intercom. Ana studied the ancient doors of the Convent which came directly onto the street with no intervening garden or forecourt. The doors were opened, and Chadora and Ana were let in by an elderly nun who greeted the two of them with a broad smile and a humble bow. Chadora returned the compliment and indicated subtly to Ana that she should also bow her head.

The interior of the Convent was as austere as its exterior. The lights were quite dim and there were no decorations or ornaments except for a large crucifix on the wall and a portrait of President Marmeluke. A series of corridors radiated in all directions, along which could be seen the occasional dark shadow of a nun. The nun ushered the two of them towards a room to one side, in which there were a few ageing chairs and a table on which a few religious magazines were laid.

“If you can wait here, I’ll look for someone with the appropriate authority. It’s to see Sister Mezyana, is it?”

Chadora repeated that it was, and that they were very grateful for her services. She waited until the nun had left, and then smiled at Ana who was sitting apprehensively, her legs crossed, studying the portrait on the wall of a former mother superior whose features were difficult to distinguish in the shadows. “They’re not very used to having visitors in the Convent,” Chadora remarked. “In most cases, the nuns are free to come and go as they please, so this kind of escorted visit is actually quite rare.”

Ana nodded, and glanced through the open door down the corridor where the nun scurried along, carrying a loose-leaf folder under her arm. “Will she be long?”

“I can’t say. But Convents are not places noted for their speed and haste, Ana dear. Anyway, there will be plenty of time to talk to Mezyana. So, tell me. Are you enjoying your career at the Brothel?”

“I quite like the work and I enjoy meeting the other people who work there,” Ana answered diplomatically.

“Especially meeting Binta, of course. And Ketaba, as well,” smiled Chadora. “But you’d probably have got to meet people in Blad, whatever job you were doing. Does it trouble you to work in a Brothel given the activities that go on there?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure I don’t have to elaborate, Ana. The Brothel is a place where young women sell their bodies and where clients indulge in sexual fantasy and sexual congress. Most people who are not prostitutes, and indeed many who are, find this rather unnatural and perverse. It must also be very strange for you: making friends with women who will have up to fifteen sexual partners a day. It doesn’t take much of my imagination to see how all this could upset a girl fresh from the green fields of Rif .”

“I don’t like to think about it very much,” admitted Ana. “It’s not that I’m a prostitute myself. I like to think of people at the Brothel as I find them. I don’t like thinking about what they do when they’re with clients.”

“Including Binta, I suppose. And has much pressure been put on you to persuade you into part-time prostitution like your predecessor, Inta? Have Khedra and the Director sold you the benefits of such work?”

“Khedra visited me at my flat once and told me all about the benefits. And often when I see her at work she makes comments about ‘the door always being open’, and ‘if you’re short of money you know what to do’, and ‘I really don’t know how you manage on your salary’. The Director also makes comments, but they’re horribly coarse. He says I have a very attractive pair of breasts and he’d love to see them. He says my legs are pretty on the eye, but would be nicer to touch. And he often touches me on the bottom at work. And, yes, he does sometimes say it would be good for me to work part-time as a prostitute, and that if I did he’d be privileged to be my first client. He’s so horrible, though! I couldn’t bear the idea.”

“Well, don’t worry about what he and Khedra say. Remember that you are absolutely and unreservedly in no way obliged to provide sexual services at the Brothel. Don’t ever feel that it would advantage your career or that you actually need the extra money. You already earn quite good money for a secretary I imagine, and you wouldn’t be that easy to replace were you to leave. Good secretaries rarely choose to work in Brothels.”

“I didn’t really choose to work in a Brothel,” Ana protested. “It’s just that there were so few jobs.”

“Well now you’ve gained experience, I’m sure your choice has widened considerably. You don’t have to continue working there. If you wanted, you could find somewhere else to work. The oppressive atmosphere of the Brothel need not be a permanent fixture in your life.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Ana remarked, staring at her hands and reflecting on the real reason why she was determined to stay at the Brothel for the foreseeable future. “But I’ve made so many friends there. And I don’t know anyone else in Blad.”

“As I say, you’ll easily make other friends in other jobs. And if you still want to see people like Ketaba and Zabba, you can do so.”

“But it’s not just that...” Ana stumbled, struggling to find a way to phrase that so long as Binta remained working in the Brothel, then so too would she. She visualised Binta’s beautiful face and bare shoulders. She would suffer any indignity to be able to see her regularly and to share a bed with her.

Chadora took Ana’s hand in her own and squeezed it affectionately. Ana turned her head round to look into Chadora’s face. “You needn’t be evasive with me, Ana. I have worked as a chaplain and as a prostitute at the Brothel for several years, and I have learnt a great deal about how it can be between two women who crave affection. I know that both you and Binta feel terribly lonely and isolated in the Brothel. I know, too, that your affection for Binta is rather stronger than that usually felt between two girlfriends. It is not at all uncommon among girls in the Brothel, but it is also something about which the law of the land has a very firm opinion.”

“Are you saying that I should leave Binta?”

“My rôle is to give spiritual and pastoral advice, Ana. I would say that your career at the Brothel and your friendship with Binta, which may seem so wonderful now, could become cause for regret later. The Church is undecided about the morality of homosexuality, but generally believes that due obedience to the law of the land should take priority on issues of conduct which do not impinge too deeply on a good Christian’s duties and ethical standards. Your future hinges on your attitude towards both the Brothel and Binta, and you must seriously ask yourself what is most important in your life and what sacrifices you feel you must make to gain what you really want. Remember that you do have a choice. You don’t have to stay at the Brothel and you don’t have to continue your illegal sexual conduct.”

Ana didn’t appreciate being told how to lead her life, even by someone like Chadora, but she felt too embarrassed to object. She released her hand from Chadora’s, using as an excuse the need to find a handkerchief in her handbag. While rummaging inside among the purse, comb and compact tucked inside the little pockets, she ruminated: “I don’t know what I want to do in the future. But for the present what I most want and what gives me the most pleasure is Binta. I can’t explain to you how very special she is to me and how much ... how very much ... It’s just something that grips me. Holds me captive. I don’t think I could leave her if I wanted to.”

Chadora smiled. “I apologise for talking to you like this. But you need not fear that I shall ever speak to others about you and Binta. However, the time of waiting is over: I see that someone is coming to meet us.”

A thin middle-aged nun with thick glasses and quite prominent teeth drifted into the room escorted by a very young nun, barely out of her teens, quite plump and incredibly bashful.

“Good morning, Sister Chadora,” the nun remarked. “So this is Ana. Come to visit Sister Mezyana. Are you related to the sister, Ana?”

Ana shook her head. “No, not at all.”

“I thought not. Your surnames are quite different. And your dialects as well,” the nun continued, looking at a sheet of paper she had attached to a clipboard. “A friend of the sister, I suppose? Do you work at the Brothel?”

Ana abruptly blushed at that comment, and noticed that the young nun was visibly shocked at the very notion. “Well, yes. I do,” confessed Ana nervously. “But not as a ... not a ... I work in the office. I’m a secretary.”

“I see!” sniffed the nun. “Well, never mind. Sister Mezyana’s friends must come from many walks of life, otherwise she wouldn’t be here on penal servitude.” She looked at Chadora. “Well thank you, sister. I don’t believe we need detain you any longer. If you could kindly sign the visitor’s book as you leave.”

She then whisked around and led Ana and the young nun, both feeling abashed, down a long corridor towards Mezyana’s cell.