“Temporarily Closed”, read the sign placed across the notice of mass times at the front of St Benedict’s. From the bus window I could see the sign had faded and frayed. One year to the day after Father Jacob was jailed, Archbishop Pedro still hadn’t enough priests to appoint a replacement. St Ben’s had begun to look as careworn as many of the other churches around the city closed for want of a pastor. “Lily really did a job on Father Jacob,” I thought as the electric bus silently lumbered past, going no faster than the twenty-five kilometres per hour…