Lambs of God (2019) s01e02 Episode Script
The Blood of Eden
1 We have a new Agnes, sister.
It's Sister Cook! She's come back to us.
You want us to leave? We are an enclosed order.
It's 1999.
The church has moved on.
And you will leave.
We must pray for a sign.
The Holy Mother will show us a way.
Sister Carla, fetch Father a nice big cup of stay-at-home.
What are we going to do with him? He will be missed.
We need to find out what his plans are for our home.
There it is.
If the car is gone, perhaps he never made it here.
G-God h-help me! This is God's punishment for breaking our vows! We have to press on, or we'll be stuck outside overnight! Saint Joan! I see Saint Joan! Carla! We must stay together! This is the way! I'll catch her.
Carla! Margarita! I woke This mornin' And I looked Iphigenia! Iphigenia! She's bleeding! Let's get her up.
I know the way home.
I have been clean nine months now.
Not even a drink.
Still smoking, though.
My boys are liking being back home with me.
I guess the only thing that's really gotten under my skin is my brother, Ignatius.
He was supposed to come and visit.
He's a priest.
As you can imagine, he hasn't had much time for someone like me but I'd reached out and he had promised to come and stay for a couple of days.
Finally meet my boys.
But he didn't show.
Didn't even call.
I guess I'm still being punished.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.
Come on.
Come on, quickly! Quickly! Gotta get inside, quick.
Oh, god.
You have reached the mobile phone of Father Ignatius Jones Jesus! Bishop, I do appreciate you taking my call.
It's just it's it's really not like him.
We may have had our differences but he would have called me if there'd been a change of plans.
Well, I'm sure there's nothing to be alarmed about, my dear.
Ignatius is on church business and may well have been waylaid.
Well, have you heard from him? No, not for a week now.
But I did tell him to take a well-earned holiday after his trip.
"Take a bathing suit," I told him.
"Head to the beach.
" You do know Ignatius can't swim.
Not to worry.
I'm expecting him back Monday.
I'll make sure he calls you on his return.
It's starting! God bless you, my dear.
Damn, damn, damn! Christe eleison Christe eleison Eleison Eleison Ignatius.
- Water! - Fetch some healing herbs.
Bring me water! Water! Sister, I don't think you're nearly warm enough to be out.
Bring me water! Bring me water! Now remove my bonds and bring me my phone! Quiet, Father.
You're the one who forced us to take your legs, by running away.
Don't make me take your voice too.
Alright.
Come on.
Come on.
My brother is more than a little obsessive.
That's five text messages to confirm his visit and his arrival times.
And he did check in to a hotel in town, the Royal.
But he never came back.
- Do you have a gun? - Ben! No, I don't have a gun.
No gun? What kind of cop are you? One who doesn't need a bloody gun.
I have this, though.
Will that do? Will you help me find my brother? According to your schedule, he's not due back at work until Monday.
So? So technically, he's not a missing person until then.
That's ridiculous.
By Monday, it could be too late! Thanks, Joe.
Look, you've called the hospitals.
There's been no road accidents reported this week.
Maybe your brother just changed his mind about visiting.
You did say that the two of you haven't been on the best of terms for a while.
I know that something is wrong.
I'm going to need that back, little man.
Let's talk Monday.
- But I'm sure he'll be back by then.
- You're a lazy prick.
Come on.
You know what kind of cop you are? A shit one! Got yourself a missing priest! He's not missing till Monday, Jock.
Odd fish.
The priest? Came in for a drink, over a week ago now, in the full frock, wasn't even Sunday! And did he say what he was doing here? No.
He did ask directions to the causeway, though.
Right.
So he was headed to the island, then? Didn't say.
Cagey bastard.
I did warn him, though, not to risk the tides and take the car across.
Poison! Put it over there, Carla.
It might be useful.
Margarita, would you pass his case again? Is this our island? Where is the St Agnes monastery? It seems as if we don't exist.
Devil! I know what he wants to do with our home.
"Connoisseur Hotels.
" "The ultimate in discretion, privacy and luxury.
" "Accommodation for private individuals and groups in mediaeval fortresses, castles and monasteries.
" I don't understand.
The bishop wants our home as a hotel for rich people.
A hotel.
What is that? A swimming pool.
What are those coloured drinks? The pictures are so beautiful! We are not in them.
Look! In such a world, we will not exist, nor the Agnes Sisters.
He said they were to be slaughtered, remember? We cannot allow this to happen.
You will be punished for this! I am not stone! I am flesh and blood! If you listen, you can hear the sea.
Sleep.
Story? A story to warm you.
Once there was a queen.
Despite her riches, she had grown tired of life inside her kingdom.
She wanted to see the world.
One day, the queen set off across the sea.
But her ship was no match for a wild storm and it foundered.
The sea closed over the ship, leaving no trace.
But the queen was not dead.
Only sleeping.
When she did not return, her king set out to find her in his big, black chariot.
Poor baby Moses.
No bulrushes to keep you warm.
Her king set off across the sea, his big, black chariot just like Moses.
Yes, Moses.
Stretching out his hand and dividing the waters.
He would awaken his queen and deliver her to the promised land.
Where they would drink very special, coloured drinks By your grace, save me.
Son of Grace, sanctify me.
on a carpet the colour of blood.
Oh, you filthy whore! You filthy whore! You tempter of man! I despise you and all your sex.
It reviles me that a man should be born between a woman's shit and piss! God pronounced a curse on your sex, for you are the devil's gateway! You betray the laws of God! Because of you, the Son of God had to die! A curse on all your whoring sex, from Eve to Mary Magdalen, to the Sisters of Saint Agnes! A curse on all your whoring sex! We are nuns.
It is not right for a man to be in our midst.
If we release him now, he will bring the wrath of men down upon us and we will lose our home.
We could, perhaps Let him return to God? There is another way.
I'm sorry for my outburst.
Father Ignatius, you have strayed from God.
Which is why you would choose to make our house a secular one.
A hotel and playground for the rich.
How do you know that? God has sent you here so that we can minister to you.
You may choose to remain on this path of damnation praying that you are rescued before Nature takes her course.
Or we can bring you into the Order of St Agnes.
To learn our ways.
And become a sister.
Never.
Very well.
You have made your choice.
Wait.
Wait right there.
Spinning wheel.
Spindle.
Cards, combs and wool.
First, shearing, then sorting, washing, carding, combing and spinning.
You must learn each skill.
Will there be a test? May I have a paper and pen to take notes? What if I fail? Best you don't, Father.
Spindle.
Spindle bobbin shaft.
Pulley, treadle.
Today we will hear the story of the first spinners.
Lachesis, who spins the past Clotho, who spins the present and Atropos, the future.
One is old, one is young and one is in between.
Souls between one life and another come before the spinsters to be given the measure of their lot.
They must choose: a life of music, devotion, love, wealth anything you can imagine.
The choice is irrevocable.
Once chosen, the Fates spin the lot into a cocoon around the soul.
Lachesis gives fibre, so that the soul's destiny can be fulfilled.
Clotho turns the spindle, to confirm the choice.
And Atropos twists the thread, to make it unbreakable.
Then the thread is snipped off and the souls lay down to sleep in the Sea of Forgetfulness waiting for the waters to part, sending them up to be scattered upon the face of the earth.
Awakening from their long sleep, the soul's weave starts to unwind, their story unfolding.
How does your story end, Father Ignatius? Ah, thank you so much for coming, Sergeant.
We spoke on the phone.
Father Malachi.
This way, if you'd be so kind.
The bishop is most anxious to talk to you.
The car company called.
Ignatius's rental hasn't been returned.
Ah, Sergeant Barnaby.
Thank you for travelling so far to meet with us.
No problem, your holiness.
Please, call me Bishop.
Your predecessor, Sergeant Molloy, was a good friend to the Church.
Are you a churchgoing man, Sergeant Barnaby? Uh, no.
No, I'm not.
Shall we get down to business? May I ask, Bishop, why Ignatius was in port with us? Your sister mentioned he was there on church business.
Yes, he was.
Right.
And may I ask what kind of business? He was to assess one of our properties.
On the island.
The St Agnes monastery.
You're well informed, Sergeant.
Uh, no, not really, Bishop.
Ignatius asked directions to our causeway.
There's nothing else left on the island.
The island's a harsh place, Bishop.
You know, the local people say it's cursed.
Didn't the Church burn witches there? Old wives' tales.
I'm surprised you'd go for such things, sergeant.
I have to ask, Bishop.
Father Ignatius wouldn't be running from something? An investigation, you know? A scandal of some sort? Ignatius is a good man and a damn fine priest.
And I want him found.
And I'd appreciate you keeping your investigations quiet, so that others don't jump to the same uncharitable conclusions.
Right.
Well, perhaps we can start with Ignatius's phone and credit card records.
If you could fax them to the station, that would be great.
Of course, Sergeant Barnaby.
Right, uh I'll be on my way.
Each knitted piece tells a story, bright with meaning.
Our work is filled with memories of stitches learnt across millennia.
It is a celebration of the inventiveness of imagination and contains within it the ribs and cables of the knitters' own lives.
So, Father.
Well, it's time you learnt.
It's time you learnt to knit.
- Is this another test? - No.
You will knit your own story.
So silky.
Your hair.
To be mixed with the wool for your sacerdotal robes.
For when you become a sister.
Sister Margarita? Left hand, like this.
Needle through the stitch, loop around and over.
- Uh - Now you.
Try again.
I knitted.
I knitted something.
Yes.
One whole stitch.
Have I offended her? That's enough for today.
Thank you for a delicious dinner, Sister Iphigenia.
Goodnight, Father Ignatius.
Some reading for you.
The story of St Agnes.
Thank you.
I have to admit, I don't know her story.
Well she refused to be married off at 12, because she was already wedded to God.
So the Romans dragged her to a brothel to be raped.
They tried to burn her at the stake but the flames wouldn't touch her, so they beheaded her.
I'll practise my knitting.
And I do appreciate all your lessons.
They've been illuminating.
Thank you, Sister Carla! Just because you cannot find the car, doesn't mean he's dead! - I didn't say that.
- You have to keep looking for him.
Look, I'm just one man with a patrol car.
You'd need a bloody helicopter to search the coast properly! Well, we could hire one, from the tour company.
Right.
And will you be funding that private search-and-rescue operation? Can't the church pay for it? I don't think they'd go for it, Frankie.
They don't want to draw any unwanted attention to themselves, not right now not with all the court cases.
Is that what they said? One of their priests goes missing but they can't afford the bloody attention? Frankie! What are you d? Who are you calling? Bishop Malone, please.
Yes, it is urgent.
Tell him Ignatius's sister is on the line.
Are you always like this, this pig-headed? - Bishop Malone.
- You are.
I am with Sergeant Barnaby - Don't tell him that.
- and he has said that he will need a helicopter - to help search for Ignatius.
- I didn't say that.
Now, if the church will agree to pay for it, I'm sure the local tour company could help out.
I'll have to stop you there, Frankie.
Much as it pains me to say it, the church really doesn't have the resources to fund such an endeavour right now.
What a shame.
Well, I suppose I could appeal to the public.
Go to the press.
Although that may mean some awkward questions for you, Bishop, like why the church is trying to hide the fact one of their priests has gone missing, rather than actually help try and find him.
May I bring in another colour now? Of course.
Would you show me how to join it with the rest, Sister Margarita? Allow me, Father.
Thank you.
Story? It's your turn, Iphigenia.
I'll tell a story, if you let me.
What stories do you know, Father? Prodigal son.
That's a Bible story, not a knitting story.
Let him tell it, Margarita.
There once was a man who had several sons.
And his youngest, knowing that he would inherit a portion of his father's wealth asked if he could have his share now.
The son gathered his belongings and his money and he made his way into the world.
And after many trials and tribulations he found himself in a new land, determined to make his fortune.
This land was wild and untamed.
There were many strange creatures and people.
He soon found he could not leave.
He'd lost all his father had given him and he was reduced to nothing.
Lower than the beasts of the field where he was obliged to sleep.
By and by, the people of the land saw his plight, fed and clothed him and eventually they let him go.
When he came to his father's house the servant said, "There's a beggar at the door.
" And the father came and saw his son kneeling to beg for forgiveness, in his strange new apparel.
"I have been wayward.
" "I've gone out into the world and lost the things you have given me.
" "I have returned to be your servant.
" "If you will not have me in your house, then lodge me with your animals.
" But the father did not reject the son.
Wasteful, wilful child.
Margarita! He should have been punished, as a useless philanderer.
And why did the father let him go in the first place? Why did he not search for him? - Protect him from this brutal world? - Will you hold your tongue, sister? Father Ignatius told his story well! How dare you rebuke me? I only ask you to be charitable toward our new novice.
Novice! Who ordained you abbess, that you can bring new novices into our order?! It is not right that he is here! Please, sister! What are you doing? Nothing.
Why? Thumping.
You were thumping.
I was itching.
I'm rotting down there, under the plaster.
I'm enjoying our lessons.
And I did want to thank you for defending me against Sister Margarita.
Over my story.
I can smell your deceit, Ignatius.
Divide and conquer may have worked for the British Empire but you will not divide the sisterhood.
You must pray for your salvation.
For your very soul.
You are the one who needs to pray, Sister.
Holy Mother, have mercy on me.
Cleanse me of my sins, so that I may put on the armour of God and fight against the wiles of the devil.
Amen.
H-holy Mother, h-have have mer-mer mercy on on-on-on me.
Help help me to fight fight fight fight against the w-wiles of the d-devil and the Sister Margarita! Margarita, it's us! Let us in.
Margarita! Oh mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions but in thy mercy, hear and answer me.
Digging day.
Carla.
Carla.
It's beautiful.
So are you.
How did you end up here? I was left outside the gates as a baby.
24 years ago.
You're 24? One day my mother will come back for me.
Who could ever leave you? Carla! Worms.
Cook! Cook! Who could leave me? Not him.
I told you all God's creatures could be tamed.
And I will tame him.
Oh, thank God! Cook! Come back! Cover the fire! Cook! Don't be afraid! Come back! Cook! Carla! Stay here and watch him! Carla! You need to come! We have to hide! Not without Sister Cook! Come back! Cook! No! Cook! Cook! Carla! No, Cook! Cook! Carla! Cook! No! No! No sign of the car.
We'll fly over the ruin.
See if he made it up there.
What! Oh, dearest.
Sister Cook.
She fell.
Broke her neck.
- Quick! - Go, go, go! Where is he? What? It was a gift.
I'm so sorry.
He is to blame for this.
Not you.
Let's circle around again.
Get closer.
Oh! Wait here.
Give me the strength to forgive.
But if vengeance be Thine, O let me be worthy.
Let me be Thy sword, Thy vessel, Thy avenging angel.
Drive away the evil men who seek to take our home! Hey! Over here! Over here! Hey! Help us to stand against the darkness of this world.
Behold, I send you forth a sheep in the midst of wolves.
Be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless as doves.
Jesus! What was that? But beware of men - No! - because they will deliver you up to the councils - and scourge you in their synagogues.
- No! Hey! I'm here! No! No, we can't leave! Are you fucking serious?! Of course we're leaving! No! No! Stop.
No! Come back! I'm here! I'm here! Come back! Hey! Come back! I'm here! Come back! Come back here! I'm here! Give me your hand.
Come back! I'm sorry.
No!
It's Sister Cook! She's come back to us.
You want us to leave? We are an enclosed order.
It's 1999.
The church has moved on.
And you will leave.
We must pray for a sign.
The Holy Mother will show us a way.
Sister Carla, fetch Father a nice big cup of stay-at-home.
What are we going to do with him? He will be missed.
We need to find out what his plans are for our home.
There it is.
If the car is gone, perhaps he never made it here.
G-God h-help me! This is God's punishment for breaking our vows! We have to press on, or we'll be stuck outside overnight! Saint Joan! I see Saint Joan! Carla! We must stay together! This is the way! I'll catch her.
Carla! Margarita! I woke This mornin' And I looked Iphigenia! Iphigenia! She's bleeding! Let's get her up.
I know the way home.
I have been clean nine months now.
Not even a drink.
Still smoking, though.
My boys are liking being back home with me.
I guess the only thing that's really gotten under my skin is my brother, Ignatius.
He was supposed to come and visit.
He's a priest.
As you can imagine, he hasn't had much time for someone like me but I'd reached out and he had promised to come and stay for a couple of days.
Finally meet my boys.
But he didn't show.
Didn't even call.
I guess I'm still being punished.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.
Come on.
Come on, quickly! Quickly! Gotta get inside, quick.
Oh, god.
You have reached the mobile phone of Father Ignatius Jones Jesus! Bishop, I do appreciate you taking my call.
It's just it's it's really not like him.
We may have had our differences but he would have called me if there'd been a change of plans.
Well, I'm sure there's nothing to be alarmed about, my dear.
Ignatius is on church business and may well have been waylaid.
Well, have you heard from him? No, not for a week now.
But I did tell him to take a well-earned holiday after his trip.
"Take a bathing suit," I told him.
"Head to the beach.
" You do know Ignatius can't swim.
Not to worry.
I'm expecting him back Monday.
I'll make sure he calls you on his return.
It's starting! God bless you, my dear.
Damn, damn, damn! Christe eleison Christe eleison Eleison Eleison Ignatius.
- Water! - Fetch some healing herbs.
Bring me water! Water! Sister, I don't think you're nearly warm enough to be out.
Bring me water! Bring me water! Now remove my bonds and bring me my phone! Quiet, Father.
You're the one who forced us to take your legs, by running away.
Don't make me take your voice too.
Alright.
Come on.
Come on.
My brother is more than a little obsessive.
That's five text messages to confirm his visit and his arrival times.
And he did check in to a hotel in town, the Royal.
But he never came back.
- Do you have a gun? - Ben! No, I don't have a gun.
No gun? What kind of cop are you? One who doesn't need a bloody gun.
I have this, though.
Will that do? Will you help me find my brother? According to your schedule, he's not due back at work until Monday.
So? So technically, he's not a missing person until then.
That's ridiculous.
By Monday, it could be too late! Thanks, Joe.
Look, you've called the hospitals.
There's been no road accidents reported this week.
Maybe your brother just changed his mind about visiting.
You did say that the two of you haven't been on the best of terms for a while.
I know that something is wrong.
I'm going to need that back, little man.
Let's talk Monday.
- But I'm sure he'll be back by then.
- You're a lazy prick.
Come on.
You know what kind of cop you are? A shit one! Got yourself a missing priest! He's not missing till Monday, Jock.
Odd fish.
The priest? Came in for a drink, over a week ago now, in the full frock, wasn't even Sunday! And did he say what he was doing here? No.
He did ask directions to the causeway, though.
Right.
So he was headed to the island, then? Didn't say.
Cagey bastard.
I did warn him, though, not to risk the tides and take the car across.
Poison! Put it over there, Carla.
It might be useful.
Margarita, would you pass his case again? Is this our island? Where is the St Agnes monastery? It seems as if we don't exist.
Devil! I know what he wants to do with our home.
"Connoisseur Hotels.
" "The ultimate in discretion, privacy and luxury.
" "Accommodation for private individuals and groups in mediaeval fortresses, castles and monasteries.
" I don't understand.
The bishop wants our home as a hotel for rich people.
A hotel.
What is that? A swimming pool.
What are those coloured drinks? The pictures are so beautiful! We are not in them.
Look! In such a world, we will not exist, nor the Agnes Sisters.
He said they were to be slaughtered, remember? We cannot allow this to happen.
You will be punished for this! I am not stone! I am flesh and blood! If you listen, you can hear the sea.
Sleep.
Story? A story to warm you.
Once there was a queen.
Despite her riches, she had grown tired of life inside her kingdom.
She wanted to see the world.
One day, the queen set off across the sea.
But her ship was no match for a wild storm and it foundered.
The sea closed over the ship, leaving no trace.
But the queen was not dead.
Only sleeping.
When she did not return, her king set out to find her in his big, black chariot.
Poor baby Moses.
No bulrushes to keep you warm.
Her king set off across the sea, his big, black chariot just like Moses.
Yes, Moses.
Stretching out his hand and dividing the waters.
He would awaken his queen and deliver her to the promised land.
Where they would drink very special, coloured drinks By your grace, save me.
Son of Grace, sanctify me.
on a carpet the colour of blood.
Oh, you filthy whore! You filthy whore! You tempter of man! I despise you and all your sex.
It reviles me that a man should be born between a woman's shit and piss! God pronounced a curse on your sex, for you are the devil's gateway! You betray the laws of God! Because of you, the Son of God had to die! A curse on all your whoring sex, from Eve to Mary Magdalen, to the Sisters of Saint Agnes! A curse on all your whoring sex! We are nuns.
It is not right for a man to be in our midst.
If we release him now, he will bring the wrath of men down upon us and we will lose our home.
We could, perhaps Let him return to God? There is another way.
I'm sorry for my outburst.
Father Ignatius, you have strayed from God.
Which is why you would choose to make our house a secular one.
A hotel and playground for the rich.
How do you know that? God has sent you here so that we can minister to you.
You may choose to remain on this path of damnation praying that you are rescued before Nature takes her course.
Or we can bring you into the Order of St Agnes.
To learn our ways.
And become a sister.
Never.
Very well.
You have made your choice.
Wait.
Wait right there.
Spinning wheel.
Spindle.
Cards, combs and wool.
First, shearing, then sorting, washing, carding, combing and spinning.
You must learn each skill.
Will there be a test? May I have a paper and pen to take notes? What if I fail? Best you don't, Father.
Spindle.
Spindle bobbin shaft.
Pulley, treadle.
Today we will hear the story of the first spinners.
Lachesis, who spins the past Clotho, who spins the present and Atropos, the future.
One is old, one is young and one is in between.
Souls between one life and another come before the spinsters to be given the measure of their lot.
They must choose: a life of music, devotion, love, wealth anything you can imagine.
The choice is irrevocable.
Once chosen, the Fates spin the lot into a cocoon around the soul.
Lachesis gives fibre, so that the soul's destiny can be fulfilled.
Clotho turns the spindle, to confirm the choice.
And Atropos twists the thread, to make it unbreakable.
Then the thread is snipped off and the souls lay down to sleep in the Sea of Forgetfulness waiting for the waters to part, sending them up to be scattered upon the face of the earth.
Awakening from their long sleep, the soul's weave starts to unwind, their story unfolding.
How does your story end, Father Ignatius? Ah, thank you so much for coming, Sergeant.
We spoke on the phone.
Father Malachi.
This way, if you'd be so kind.
The bishop is most anxious to talk to you.
The car company called.
Ignatius's rental hasn't been returned.
Ah, Sergeant Barnaby.
Thank you for travelling so far to meet with us.
No problem, your holiness.
Please, call me Bishop.
Your predecessor, Sergeant Molloy, was a good friend to the Church.
Are you a churchgoing man, Sergeant Barnaby? Uh, no.
No, I'm not.
Shall we get down to business? May I ask, Bishop, why Ignatius was in port with us? Your sister mentioned he was there on church business.
Yes, he was.
Right.
And may I ask what kind of business? He was to assess one of our properties.
On the island.
The St Agnes monastery.
You're well informed, Sergeant.
Uh, no, not really, Bishop.
Ignatius asked directions to our causeway.
There's nothing else left on the island.
The island's a harsh place, Bishop.
You know, the local people say it's cursed.
Didn't the Church burn witches there? Old wives' tales.
I'm surprised you'd go for such things, sergeant.
I have to ask, Bishop.
Father Ignatius wouldn't be running from something? An investigation, you know? A scandal of some sort? Ignatius is a good man and a damn fine priest.
And I want him found.
And I'd appreciate you keeping your investigations quiet, so that others don't jump to the same uncharitable conclusions.
Right.
Well, perhaps we can start with Ignatius's phone and credit card records.
If you could fax them to the station, that would be great.
Of course, Sergeant Barnaby.
Right, uh I'll be on my way.
Each knitted piece tells a story, bright with meaning.
Our work is filled with memories of stitches learnt across millennia.
It is a celebration of the inventiveness of imagination and contains within it the ribs and cables of the knitters' own lives.
So, Father.
Well, it's time you learnt.
It's time you learnt to knit.
- Is this another test? - No.
You will knit your own story.
So silky.
Your hair.
To be mixed with the wool for your sacerdotal robes.
For when you become a sister.
Sister Margarita? Left hand, like this.
Needle through the stitch, loop around and over.
- Uh - Now you.
Try again.
I knitted.
I knitted something.
Yes.
One whole stitch.
Have I offended her? That's enough for today.
Thank you for a delicious dinner, Sister Iphigenia.
Goodnight, Father Ignatius.
Some reading for you.
The story of St Agnes.
Thank you.
I have to admit, I don't know her story.
Well she refused to be married off at 12, because she was already wedded to God.
So the Romans dragged her to a brothel to be raped.
They tried to burn her at the stake but the flames wouldn't touch her, so they beheaded her.
I'll practise my knitting.
And I do appreciate all your lessons.
They've been illuminating.
Thank you, Sister Carla! Just because you cannot find the car, doesn't mean he's dead! - I didn't say that.
- You have to keep looking for him.
Look, I'm just one man with a patrol car.
You'd need a bloody helicopter to search the coast properly! Well, we could hire one, from the tour company.
Right.
And will you be funding that private search-and-rescue operation? Can't the church pay for it? I don't think they'd go for it, Frankie.
They don't want to draw any unwanted attention to themselves, not right now not with all the court cases.
Is that what they said? One of their priests goes missing but they can't afford the bloody attention? Frankie! What are you d? Who are you calling? Bishop Malone, please.
Yes, it is urgent.
Tell him Ignatius's sister is on the line.
Are you always like this, this pig-headed? - Bishop Malone.
- You are.
I am with Sergeant Barnaby - Don't tell him that.
- and he has said that he will need a helicopter - to help search for Ignatius.
- I didn't say that.
Now, if the church will agree to pay for it, I'm sure the local tour company could help out.
I'll have to stop you there, Frankie.
Much as it pains me to say it, the church really doesn't have the resources to fund such an endeavour right now.
What a shame.
Well, I suppose I could appeal to the public.
Go to the press.
Although that may mean some awkward questions for you, Bishop, like why the church is trying to hide the fact one of their priests has gone missing, rather than actually help try and find him.
May I bring in another colour now? Of course.
Would you show me how to join it with the rest, Sister Margarita? Allow me, Father.
Thank you.
Story? It's your turn, Iphigenia.
I'll tell a story, if you let me.
What stories do you know, Father? Prodigal son.
That's a Bible story, not a knitting story.
Let him tell it, Margarita.
There once was a man who had several sons.
And his youngest, knowing that he would inherit a portion of his father's wealth asked if he could have his share now.
The son gathered his belongings and his money and he made his way into the world.
And after many trials and tribulations he found himself in a new land, determined to make his fortune.
This land was wild and untamed.
There were many strange creatures and people.
He soon found he could not leave.
He'd lost all his father had given him and he was reduced to nothing.
Lower than the beasts of the field where he was obliged to sleep.
By and by, the people of the land saw his plight, fed and clothed him and eventually they let him go.
When he came to his father's house the servant said, "There's a beggar at the door.
" And the father came and saw his son kneeling to beg for forgiveness, in his strange new apparel.
"I have been wayward.
" "I've gone out into the world and lost the things you have given me.
" "I have returned to be your servant.
" "If you will not have me in your house, then lodge me with your animals.
" But the father did not reject the son.
Wasteful, wilful child.
Margarita! He should have been punished, as a useless philanderer.
And why did the father let him go in the first place? Why did he not search for him? - Protect him from this brutal world? - Will you hold your tongue, sister? Father Ignatius told his story well! How dare you rebuke me? I only ask you to be charitable toward our new novice.
Novice! Who ordained you abbess, that you can bring new novices into our order?! It is not right that he is here! Please, sister! What are you doing? Nothing.
Why? Thumping.
You were thumping.
I was itching.
I'm rotting down there, under the plaster.
I'm enjoying our lessons.
And I did want to thank you for defending me against Sister Margarita.
Over my story.
I can smell your deceit, Ignatius.
Divide and conquer may have worked for the British Empire but you will not divide the sisterhood.
You must pray for your salvation.
For your very soul.
You are the one who needs to pray, Sister.
Holy Mother, have mercy on me.
Cleanse me of my sins, so that I may put on the armour of God and fight against the wiles of the devil.
Amen.
H-holy Mother, h-have have mer-mer mercy on on-on-on me.
Help help me to fight fight fight fight against the w-wiles of the d-devil and the Sister Margarita! Margarita, it's us! Let us in.
Margarita! Oh mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions but in thy mercy, hear and answer me.
Digging day.
Carla.
Carla.
It's beautiful.
So are you.
How did you end up here? I was left outside the gates as a baby.
24 years ago.
You're 24? One day my mother will come back for me.
Who could ever leave you? Carla! Worms.
Cook! Cook! Who could leave me? Not him.
I told you all God's creatures could be tamed.
And I will tame him.
Oh, thank God! Cook! Come back! Cover the fire! Cook! Don't be afraid! Come back! Cook! Carla! Stay here and watch him! Carla! You need to come! We have to hide! Not without Sister Cook! Come back! Cook! No! Cook! Cook! Carla! No, Cook! Cook! Carla! Cook! No! No! No sign of the car.
We'll fly over the ruin.
See if he made it up there.
What! Oh, dearest.
Sister Cook.
She fell.
Broke her neck.
- Quick! - Go, go, go! Where is he? What? It was a gift.
I'm so sorry.
He is to blame for this.
Not you.
Let's circle around again.
Get closer.
Oh! Wait here.
Give me the strength to forgive.
But if vengeance be Thine, O let me be worthy.
Let me be Thy sword, Thy vessel, Thy avenging angel.
Drive away the evil men who seek to take our home! Hey! Over here! Over here! Hey! Help us to stand against the darkness of this world.
Behold, I send you forth a sheep in the midst of wolves.
Be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless as doves.
Jesus! What was that? But beware of men - No! - because they will deliver you up to the councils - and scourge you in their synagogues.
- No! Hey! I'm here! No! No, we can't leave! Are you fucking serious?! Of course we're leaving! No! No! Stop.
No! Come back! I'm here! I'm here! Come back! Hey! Come back! I'm here! Come back! Come back here! I'm here! Give me your hand.
Come back! I'm sorry.
No!