"We're all catholic in the Nicaean sense." Stanley answered. He referred of course to that gathering of the early church where matters of doctrine and belief were hammered out and written down in the form of a Creed.

"Roman Catholic," Malachi adjusted flatly. It did not sound like a question when he asked, "are you a Roman Catholic priest."

What sort of a question was that?

"Of course I'm not Roman Catholic." Stanley huffed. "Do I look like a Papist fop? "

Ohhhhh. My my my.

There was a slow shift of Malachi's mouth into an almost predatory smile.

"Ah. Let me introduce myself then. I'm Father Malachi Brennan, head priest here at St. Hilda's Catholic church."

Which meant he was not getting replaced. Yet.

"A common mistake, try not to feel too foolish, Mister Merritt," he added flippantly, "but I think you're looking for the other St. Hilda's."

"What?" Stanley asked

"Wrong church," said Malachi.

A slender hand crawled onto Merritt's shoulder, and Malachi took a step around him, as if to direct him towards the door.

"I believe you're looking for the other St. Hilda's, Mister Merritt. There's two. This one is filled with Papist fops."

Catholic? Oh no!

Stanley felt foolish, but he didn't want to admit it.

"What sort of an idiot dedicates two churches to the same saint in the same town!?"

"An Anglican, I suppose."

Malachi hadn't the first idea about which church had actually been there first, but he certainly sounded confident when he said it.

"Not to worry, though. I hear the smaller St. Hilda's is a lovely place."

Not really. He'd witnessed a burglary as soon as he'd stepped foot in there, and he wasn't sure that the place was actually smaller than this one either.

Stanley indeed felt foolish for at least two reasons. Firstly, he had not checked that this church was the correct one. But that sort of thing wasn't usually a problem. None of the helpful locals who had directed him here had said at any point up till now, 'is this the one you want?'

His second reason for embarrassment was being so callous with this Brennan fellow. Sexual practices, the bishop wants to see you.. He might very well be a papist fop, but he was a brother in Christ, surely that was worthy of consideration, and amicable fellowship? After all, theologically they were very similar. Stanley considered it, and then ignored the thought. If he was Catholic, he'd probably have to go to confession. Thank god he wasn't.

This Brennan chap seemed to be in a hurry to escort him from the building. Stanley needed no urging. He could feel the hidebound stuffiness of Romanism starting to cling to him like a bad smell, much longer and he would start speaking Latin..

Undeterred by the other priest's embarrassment, Malachi kept a steady hand to the back of his shoulder as he led him straight back to the door he'd walked in from.

Upon reaching it, his other hand went to swing it open.

"Best of luck to you. Terribly sorry to hear about the issues with your church."

Malachi flashed a smile and smacked his shoulder in what was, presumably, meant to be a friendly, brotherly gesture.

"Vale, Mister Merritt."

Ah, Latin.

"Peace be with you."