Christ had absolutely nothing to say about celibacy. Never even thought it worthy of a mention, other than that he had chosen not to marry – or had he? The Church always downplayed Christ’s enjoyment of the company of women. Giovanni reflected on Luke’s description of Jesus travelling through the towns and cities of the Holy Land with several women among his disciples. ‘Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, and Susanna, and many others – who provided for him out of their resources.’ All this in a culture where it was forbidden to speak to a woman in public, let alone travel with them. Jesus was charismatic, spiritual and a gifted speaker, and he treated women as equals. No wonder they were attracted to him. Perhaps Mary Magdalene’s relationship with Jesus was much deeper than the Church allowed. Perhaps the hypocrisy of the Church on sex and the role of women in religion covered up something that was more spiritually balanced. A sense of harmony between male and female that was a crucial element to the patterns of creation, as Professor Rosselli had hinted at in his lectures.
When sleep came, it was fitful. Giovanni drifted in and out of a drowsy wakefulness, deeply troubled. Somewhere along the line the Faith had become perverted by a male hierarchy intent on increasing their power. The Church had somehow corrupted Christ’s message, of which celibacy was but one element. It didn’t have to be that way.
Giovanni changed gears three times from fourth down to second before he had to stop the Fiat on one of Maratea’s notorious hairpin bends. The gearbox grated and protested as he searched for low gear. An awkward silence had settled over Allegra and Giovanni, broken only by the protests of the little car as they ground up the valley between the mountains in the still of the early morning, the port town of Maratea and the Tyrrhenian slowly receding behind them. The crunching of the gears reflected the cranking up of Allegra’s anger at the restrictions of her Church and she was equally angry at herself for dreaming about a partnership with Giovanni. Why did the Church try to overrule human emotion, and had it always been that way? Perhaps the Omega Scroll did give some insight into a more human Church, a Church that recognised human nature and what people felt in their lives.
‘I’m sorry about yesterday,’ Giovanni said, interrupting her thoughts.
‘Are you?’ she snapped, angry that Giovanni should be sorry for what they both felt for each other, something that was so natural between them. Rebellion had surfaced again, but this time even stronger than before. Molta testarda.
Giovanni was taken aback by Allegra’s response. It wasn’t like her. He felt a shift in Allegra, a strength and determination starting to surface within her.
‘I’m sorry too,’ Allegra said, finally controlling her anger. ‘For the way I sounded. It’s just that I’m not sorry for how I feel and how we responded to each other.’
Giovanni didn’t reply immediately. ‘Me neither,’ he said. ‘But it can’t happen again. We both know that.’
‘I know, but that doesn’t mean we can’t see each other,’ she said defiantly.
Giovanni took one hand off the wheel and reached out for hers. ‘Of course not. There’s no rule against pasta on a Friday night. But… there’s nothing I want more than to be back on that beach with you, but that is too difficult for both of us.’ Giovanni hesitated. ‘I love you, Allegra.’
Allegra turned to face him, her brown eyes gentle.
‘I love you too, Giovanni.’
BOOK THREE
1985
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Milano
I t was winter. The snow during the night had been unusually heavy. In the Piazza della Scala, the stone coats of Leonardo da Vinci and other statues in the old historic centre of Milano were dusted in white. The cold snap matched the mood of the Cardinal Archbishop of Milano, Lorenzo Petroni. In a concise hand he wrote just one word on one of two documents in the morning dispatches, Accetti, directing his private secretary to accept the invitation to attend the graduation ceremony at the Universita Statale. The second document did nothing to improve his temper. It was a letter from the Chancellor. Eminence, I am writing this letter because Signor Donelli and Signora Bassetti have achieved marvellous results in Philosophy, Archaeology and Chemistry…
The reference to Catholic students as Signor and Signora irritated Petroni, but it was the Chancellor’s description of the pilot program as a brilliant success that annoyed him intensely. It didn’t surprise Petroni that Father Donelli had achieved the University Medal for Philosophy, but at least the problem of what to do with him next had been solved. There had been some initial surprise when Petroni had suggested posting Father Donelli to the Middle East, but there were more pressing issues in Rome than the posting of a young priest to Israel. An ageing Cardinal Secretary of State had acquiesced with a shrug of his shoulders.
But how to deal with the nun from Tricarico? She could not so easily be dispatched to some far-flung corner of Catholicism without some eyebrows being raised. Sister Bassetti was to be awarded the University Medal for Archaeology and the University Medal for Chemistry. How could a woman achieve this? This signalled a danger for the Holy Church. Trying to control his frustration Cardinal Petroni reflected on Genesis. In the Garden of Eden Woman had been responsible for the Fall of Man and all women needed to realise that like the snail that carries its house on its back, a woman had been put into the realm of Man to manage his household and to provide sex for the procreation of mankind. In his next report to the Pope, Petroni had already decided to describe the education program as ‘an interesting experiment’. This would be accompanied with a strong recommendation for a return to the normal Catholic channels of education that had appropriate controls in place.
As he studied Allegra’s photograph that had now found its place on the inside cover of her file, Petroni grew thoughtful. Dark brown eyes and black hair, a tanned oval face; a very beautiful young nun who was obviously academically gifted was an interesting combination. Perhaps it was time to get better acquainted with Sister Bassetti. Madonna, whore – Petroni could always see advantages in any situation. The religious conundrum would be a perfect one to explore. Petroni’s eyes narrowed as he chanted the words of the apostle Paul to the Ephesians: ‘Wives, be subject to your husbands as you are to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife just as Christ is head of the Church.’ The hum of the wise words of Paul soothed him. It was time to put Sister Allegra Bassetti in her place.
Allegra pulled her coat tightly around her as snow was still falling lightly on the thickly covered grounds of the university. The summons to dinner had been delivered that morning by Cardinal Petroni’s driver and, try as she might, Allegra had not been able to come up with an excuse to refuse the invitation from the powerful Cardinal. She made her way through the now familiar cloisters surrounding the quadrangles of the main square towards Ca’ Granda’s main entrance. Giovanni had only been gone two days and she missed him more than she thought possible. It had been hard, but they had honoured the pact they’d made on the way back from their fateful visit to Maratea. For her part, Allegra had thrown herself into her studies and the increasing number of High Distinctions and Distinctions were impressive. Delving into the intricacies of biochemistry, the exquisite phosphodiester bonding and nucleotides of DNA, and the development of life on Earth from a single primordial cell line intrigued her. The more she learned, the more she realised that the creation story of Adam and Eve didn’t gel.