Knots And Unknots

Gaius has learned much from Francine.

That a mathematical knot differs from a real knot in that the ends are joined together, and that six billion mathematical knots have been identified already.

However, he feels it necessary to yawn politely.

Yes, says Belle, we should call it a night. Where are you guys staying?

Hotel Nuit et Jour, says Francine. Come on, Albert.

Ditto! says Belle. Come on Arthur.

Arthur picks up the butter knife, and is ready to go.

I'll sleep with the monks in the church, says François-René. I didn't catch up properly.

Because of the potatoes, says Belle. And because Arthur ate the rest of the feast.

Arthur doesn't recall it. But he must have done it, if Belle says so.

It's an unknot, he thinks.

It's an unknot, says Arthur, saying it out loud, to see if he gets a reaction.

How so? asks Francine.

I did it because she said I did it, says Arthur.

No similarity, says Francine. Unknots don't join up. I believe you have had too much existential conversation with Albert.

Yes, says Belle. And put down that butter knife.

Arthur puts down the butter knife, and contemplates pocketing alternative cutlery.

A dirty fork. A pizza cutter.

Why not both?

François-René heads off towards the Eglise de Saint Méen.

The place is quiet.

.......

In the morning, Gaius wakes early.

He heads across to the church.

He is keen to see Saint Roley and hear him speak for the first time, not counting Yes and Sasshoo.

The monks are sleeping on the hard floor, as monks do. François-René has joined them, with a cushion.

Terence and Baldy are whispering in a corner.

Butterball has been obliged to go back and stand in the Arctic Circle next to the Virgin, in the next room.

Saint Roley is stirring on his pile of kneeling cushions.

He has slept well.

His opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is oyster granny.

He turns his head, and the second thing he sees is her too.

O glory be to you, Oyster Granny says Saint Roley. Today I shall honour you. You shall be buried in sand, after I say a few words.

Fie fie!

A faint sound, emitted by the two halves of oyster granny.

Gaius looms.

It's me, says Gaius. I heard you. You have become surprisingly articulate, in a very short space of time.

I have, Gaius, says Saint Roley. And it's good to see you this fine morning.

(for the sun is streaming in through the stained glass windows, illuminating the Actes de Contritions).

Shall we get on with this funeral, says Gaius. Then we can get down to business.

But if he thinks he can hurry things up so simply, he has not factored in Terence.

Guess what ! says Terence.