Crossing To Paradise (25 page)

Gatty thought of each of the pilgrims, but especially Nest. “You got to be a father and a mother to her,” she told Jesus, “especially if the others leave her behind in Venice. She's like a babe in arms.”

Then Gatty prayed for her mother. “She used to sing to me,” she said, “but that's all I can remember. If you can forgive me all my sins, can I see her again? My lady said I should ask you that.”

Gatty gulped. She prayed for little Dusty and for her grandmother who lay in their cottage for so many seasons, stiff and silent as a plank of
wood; she prayed for her father. And after that she named each person she knew. At Caldicot. Then at Ewloe. It didn't take very long.

All right then, thought Gatty. All right! Her heart began to thump; she was shivering.

“Jesus,” she said out loud. “Please listen now. Nothing's never mattered so much.” Her voice was jerky, and she took deep breaths and tried to steady it. “Lady Gwyneth was coming to you here. She was, and her stomach burst inside her. You know about Griffith? Lady Gwyneth told me everything, how she lay on him while he was asleep, and how terrible it was. She loved him. She did! She was always praying at his tiny grave and tending it.

“Jesus, I'm her messenger. Lady Gwyneth de Ewloe. It's near Chester. She was on her way to do penance for her soul, and I promised I'd come for her. Because of her, I'm learning to read and write and sing. She's changed my life, you know. Please, Jesus, please! Open your arms. Welcome her now to paradise.”

Gatty had started to sob. And each time she sniffed and almost stopped, she started again. For a long time, she remained kneeling at the heart of Holy Sepulchre.

Who am I, she thought. To be here alone in this most holy place in holy Jerusalem? I don't deserve this. I done nothing in my life. I'll make it different because of this, all my life, each day of it.

Through her tears, Gatty thanked Jesus for His grace. She asked Him to smile on the Saracen boy who let her stay in Holy Sepulchre.

“Breathe on him!” she whispered.

Then, Gatty began to sing. She sang and she sang. But when, next day, Snout asked her what she had sung, she couldn't really say.

“I sang psalms and that,” she told him. “And songs without words. And a new song.”

“New?”

“I can't explain. A sort of song of everything. I mean, I made rock solid and gritty.”

“Rock is!” said Snout.

“I know, but it might not be, if I hadn't sung it so.”

Snout frowned.

“I made steps climb and passages twist, I made darkness blind, and candles waxen. I made light shine. In my song, I created them.”

Snout shook his head.

“With my head and heart, my flesh and blood, I made air breathe. I made air sing.”

“You and your notions,” Snout said fondly. “You are a one.”

In the church, Gatty got to her feet. She took a deep breath and opened her arms wide.

She knew she had done what she had come to do, and honored her solemn promise to Lady Gwyneth. And in her heart of hearts, she knew the truth of it. Jesus had heard her prayer.

Silent now and content, Gatty wandered for a long while around the hall of night-sky. And then, at some time during that August night, after dark, before dawn, she crept back down the narrow passage that led nowhere to check that she and Arthur and Pip were still there.

Gatty lay down on the naked rock. Blessed, she curled up like an unborn baby.

Brother
Gabriel greeted Gatty and Snout warmly, and gave Gatty an amused look. “I hear you got yourself locked in for the night.”

“And I waited outside all night,” said Snout. “First I was cross, then I got worried.”

“So far as I know, it's the first time that's happened,” Brother Gabriel went on. “You must have heard the Saracens' shouting.”

“Oh yes!” said Gatty in a matter-of-fact voice.

“And you ignored them?”

“Not exactly,” said Gatty. She told Brother Gabriel about the young Saracen boy, and how he'd blown in her face and she had blown in his.

The knight-brother smiled. “You know what that means?” he asked.

Gatty shook her head. “It was strange,” she said. “I liked it.”

“He was blowing verses from the Koran over you,” the Hospitaller told her. “To protect you and bless you.”

Gatty smiled broadly. “They did and all,” she said.

“Now! I've some news for you,” said Brother Gabriel. “Didn't you tell Sir Faramond how much you longed to see where Jesus was born?”

“Bethlehem!” Gatty and Snout exclaimed together.

Brother Gabriel smiled. “As you know, Sir Faramond gave me money to pay for you here. But even more than that! He gave me extra so you could both go to Bethlehem!”

Gatty shook her head in wonder.

“God bring him to paradise!” said Snout.

“I've arranged for Gregory and Janet to ride there with you,” Brother Gabriel told them.

Gatty clapped her hands.

“Bethlehem!” she cried.

Riding on donkeys, Gregory and Janet led Gatty and Snout through Dung Gate, and away from Jerusalem.

“How far is it?” Gatty asked. “How many miles, did you say?”

“Five,” said Janet. “God willing, we'll be there before noon.”

“I been there all my life,” Gatty told her. “That's what it feels like. All the times I've heard about Mary and Jesus.”

The sky was forget-me-not, almost; the sun was hot but not scorching; an easy wind from the south, scented with thyme and rosemary, freshened their faces. Gatty and Snout were happy to be out of the city's swelter and sweat. And after visiting so many places where Jesus had suffered, they were joyous at the prospect of seeing the place where He had been born.

On their way, they rode through groves of orange trees, pomegranates and figs; and not far short of the village of Bethlehem, they stopped near a farmhouse to eat the unleavened bread, cheese and olives they had brought with them. Sheep and hens and goats strayed around them.

“I'm thirsty!” said Snout.

“That's why we've stopped here,” Janet said. “The farmer lets us use his well.”

“At a price,” added Gregory.

“A young woman drowned here last year,” Janet told them. “Not a pilgrim, I'm glad to say.”

“What happened?” asked Gatty.

“She toppled in while she was drawing water. Her friends could hear her, but they couldn't do anything.”

“They could have thrown down a rope,” Gatty said. “Or tied ladders together.”

“The farmer told me it took days to haul her body out,” Gregory said.

“Never mind!” sighed Snout. “Never mind! The water won't taste any different.”

Gatty screwed up her face. “I'm not going to touch it,” she said.

“Water is water,” Snout replied.

On their way to the Church of the Nativity, the four of them rode up to a hillside cave.

“Then Herod the King slew all the children in Bethlehem and for miles around,” Gregory called out. “All the children less than two years old. The Gospel of Saint Matthew.”

“And they threw their little bodies into this cave,” Janet went on. “The holy bones of more than ten thousand children.”

Gatty and Snout made their way into the gloomy cave, and looked for bones. But they couldn't find any, not even a little finger or a toe.

“Not even a trotter!” Snout said. “The Saracens got here first.”

Then Gregory and Janet led them into a second cave where a Saracen with a flaming brand was awaiting them. He showed them a rock wall shining with white ooze.

“Mary, mother of us all,” Janet called out, “came up here and fed her baby in the cool of this cave. A drop of milk fell from her breast onto the rock, and from that day this cave has oozed.”

At last, Gatty and Snout reached the Church of the Nativity, built over the manger where Jesus was born. It was quite small compared to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and its thicket of shining marble pillars was as slender and beautiful as a forest of birch trees. The roof was supported by cedar beams.

On the tips of her toes, Gatty crept down sixteen rock steps into the manger. She stared at a large silver star lying on the ground. She knelt and closed her eyes.

Before long, Gatty heard all around her a rushing sound. Like frothing water in a mountain stream. And then a distant whistling, as if one of her ears were blocked. Her breathing lengthened. She felt warm. Utterly at ease.

After a while, Gatty opened her eyes and blinked, and the rushing and whistling faded. She smiled an inward smile. It felt like I was unborn, she thought. In my mother's womb, beginning again. Before I knew anything about the world.

I can't remember my mother. Not properly. She hummed like a bee, she did, hummed and rocked me and sang softly:

“
How many miles to Bethlehem?
”

Bethlehem, was it? Or Beverleyham? Or was it Babylon?

“
How many miles to Bethlehem?
Not very far.
Shall we find the stable room
Lit by a star?

How many miles to Bethlehem?
Three score and ten.
Can I get there by candlelight?
Yes, and back again.”

For a while, Gatty watched other pilgrims to the church laying objects on the marble floor around the silver star. Bones and coins and keys and palm badges, phials and flasks and crucifixes: They begged Jesus and His mother Mary to bless them, and then they picked them up again and put them away in their pockets and scrips.

Gatty had an idea. She delved to the bottom of her scrip and fished out the gold ring—a woman with a baby in her arms, holding out something to his mother.

It's an apple, thought Gatty. It must be! The apple of all our sins. It's Jesus and He's promising Mary He will redeem us.

Gatty inspected the inside of the ring. A DE C! Lovingly, she squeezed it, and then she laid it beside the manger—and she didn't take her eyes off it for one moment until she had put it back into her scrip.

Saracens were selling bones and badges and other mementos in the church cloister.

“I know you,” said Snout, “you'll want to buy something.”

“I just want to look.”

“No,” said Snout firmly. “We still need to pay for our passage to Venice. We'll need every penny we have.”

All the same, Gatty went off on her own and looked at the Saracens' stalls. Round and round she walked and round again, and then, biting her lower lip in excitement, for the first time in her life she did buy something! She hid it in her scrip, and almost ran back to Snout.

“Well?” he asked.

“I bought something!” she said. Her eyes were shining. “I did!”

“Gatty!”

“I can't tell you! Not now! It's for Oliver.”

“Who?”

“Our priest. He wrote to Austin about teaching me to read and write.”

Despite himself, Snout couldn't help smiling.

“It's all right,” said Gatty. “It didn't cost much at all. And I'm as rich as three kings now!”

Before they left the Church of the Nativity, Gatty and Snout celebrated Mass, and on their slow way back, they visited another well—not to draw water but to see where the Star in the East had fallen to earth.

Gatty peered in and right down. Taking great care not to topple over, she marveled at the silver fragments still dancing and leaping in the dark water.

The day's light began to drain out of the sky. As they rode back to Jerusalem, Gatty and Snout noisily sucked blood oranges and began to talk about Sir Faramond's and Lady Saffiya's invitation.

“I
can hear him saying it,” Snout told Gatty.

“Who?”

“Sir Faramond. About me working in the kitchen, and you speaking English and reading to him and Lady Saffiya. ‘To begin with,' he told us, ‘you'll say you must get back to England…'”

“Are you saying you want to stay?” Gatty asked Snout.

“No, I'm going home. I've got to for Hew and, besides, I'm longing to see him. The things he says! You should hear him. But you, Gatty…”

“Haven't got anyone,” Gatty said in a flat voice. “I know.”

“You could be happy with Sir Faramond and Lady Saffiya,” said Snout. “I think they'd look after you, and you'd be living in a palace. Don't get me wrong. I'd miss you all the way back. I'd think of you every day of my life.”

“I got to go home, Snout,” said Gatty. “Even if I don't know where home is. When I think about it, you know, the green hills and the way the air is, fresh and damp on my face, and the smell of the earth after it's rained, it makes me feel sick, almost.”

Snout smiled.

“And I got to see Nest in Venice,” Gatty went on. “And I got duties at Ewloe. I got to dig some of Lady Gwyneth's hair into Griffith's grave, and give something to Austin.”

“What?” asked Snout.

“And then there's everyone at Caldicot,” Gatty hurried on.

“Beginning with Arthur,” said Snout.

Gatty looked at him under her eyelashes. She spread out her arms. “I know this is the Holy Land,” she said, “but it's all so sandy and so thirsty. So hot! All these palm trees! I can't explain it exactly, but this isn't my air.”

“That does explain it,” said Snout. “Well, we had better tell Brother Gabriel.”

“Sir Faramond and Lady Saffiya will be very disappointed,” Brother Gabriel told them with a gentle smile.

“It's so difficult,” said Gatty.

“When they paid for us here,” added Snout.

“No one's never asked me to choose,” Gatty said. “Not like this.”

“They'll understand,” the knight-brother told them. “To be honest…I'd go back. That's what I'd do, in your position.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Snout, sounding relieved.

“Yes, of course you must go home,” Brother Gabriel assured them. “Snout, your son is waiting for you.”

“I know!” said Snout, bright-eyed.

“And you, Gatty, you're so young.”

“Sixteen,” said Gatty.

“When is your birthday?”

“About now. After the harvest, that's what my father told me.”

“Sixteen and lovely,” said the Hospitaller.

Gatty lowered her eyes and smiled.

“Your husband…”

“Husband!”

“…and your children.”

“I haven't got none!”

“I know,” said Brother Gabriel. “Not yet. But they're waiting for you.”

“They can wait, then,” said Gatty, smiling.

“All the same,” the Hospitaller said, “you'll have to be patient until we find a ship to take you home. It may take weeks, months even.”

Gatty sighed.

Snout looked quite pained, quite troubled.

“There are many sights here you haven't seen yet,” the knight-brother told them. “Anyhow, patience is a virtue.”

But now that Gatty and Snout had made up their minds to go home, they found it difficult to be much interested in anything else.

The next morning, Snout failed to come to the refectory to break his fast. Gatty waited until she was sure all the other male pilgrims had gone out for the day and then, breaking the Hospital's strict rules, she entered the male dormitory.

The cook was lying on his mattress, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.

“Snout! What are you doing?”

Snout didn't reply.

“Snout, you're worrying me. Please get up now.”

“What's the point?” Snout replied.

“Snout!” said Gatty. “Heaven helps those who help themselves. Come on! I'm not leaving this dormitory until you get up.”

But Snout completely refused to get up, and so Gatty had to go out on her own for the day. She went to see the kitchen where the Paschal lamb was cooked for Jesus's Last Supper with His disciples, but her heart wasn't in it. She kept thinking about Snout; and she had nothing like enough money to buy an Indulgence, forgiving her for her past sins, or even to buy a pair of the light cork shoes everyone in Jerusalem was wearing.

What with my sins, thought Gatty, and my calluses and warts and all, I'd never get halfway up to paradise, not even in those shoes. Not in Mansel's shoes, neither. Mind you, if Snout goes on like this, we won't even get back to England.

The next morning was no better. When Gatty went to see Snout, he just shook his head and sighed deeply.

“What's wrong?” Gatty asked him. “Snout! What's wrong? Brother Gabriel's trying to find a ship for us. Hew's waiting for you in Ewloe.”

Snout's eyes filled with tears.

“Shall I bring you some food? You must eat.”

Snout shook his head again. “I'm all right,” he said. “You go out, girl. See what you can.”

Unhappily, Gatty went off on her own for a second day. She spat on the threshold of Pontius Pilate's house. She walked up to the Garden of
Gethsemane. She walked down to the Golden Gate that will open only when Jesus enters Jerusalem again, and there she said prayers for everyone at Caldicot, as Oliver the priest had asked her to do, but all the time she kept worrying about Snout.

Brother Gabriel advised Gatty that she could do nothing about Snout's deep melancholy but watch and pray. So she went back to the dormitory, and sat silently beside Snout, and prayed. And later in the day, she joined company with other groups of pilgrims who still kept arriving at the Hospital of Saint John: stately black-skinned monks from Ethiopia, men and women from Armenia wearing coats of many colors; and a very rich family from Byzantium, almond-eyed, with their two priests, and two cooks, their stableman, and at least a dozen servants—a whole retinue.

Reluctantly, Gatty went with them to see the grave where Lazarus lay dead before Jesus lifted him back to life again.

I wish Jesus would bring Snout properly back to life again, she thought.

After this, Gatty and the other pilgrims trooped up to the mosque the Saracens had built right over the tombs of King Solomon and King David, and she listened to the muezzin high in the minaret summoning people to prayer. But she kept talking to herself about Nest and Venice, and catching up with the others, about Syndod, and above all about Snout's melancholy. After the fifth day without him, Gatty came back to the Hospital thoroughly dispirited, thinking she had seen quite enough of Jerusalem.

Brother Gabriel was standing in the courtyard.

“I've got something to tell you,” he said. “Where's Snout?”

Gatty shook her head in desperation.

“Not still!”

“Five days,” said Gatty. “He hasn't eaten a thing. He's asleep for most of the time.”

“I'll go and get him up myself,” Brother Gabriel said. “You wait here.”

Before long, Brother Gabriel brought Snout out of the dormitory. He was looking very pale—and he wouldn't even look Gatty in the eye.

“Now, then!” said the Hospitaller. “Jesus must be watching over you.”

“What do you mean?” asked Gatty.

“There are two English traders here in Jerusalem.”

For the first time, Snout raised his eyes. Gatty saw how red and heavylidded they were.

“Yes,” said Brother Gabriel. “They've been here for a week, and they're staying at a hostel outside Fish Gate. They came here this afternoon to ask us for help. They want an escort to Jaffa.”

Gatty stared at Brother Gabriel, made a fist of her right hand and banged her forehead.

“I know who they are,” she said. “I do! I overheard them talking about profit and stopping in Cyprus to buy salt. Inside Holy Sepulchre.”

“They're the ones,” Brother Gabriel said. “They're dependable men. Honorable men. And they're prepared to sail you all the way—the whole way to England!”

“You can't sail over mountains,” said Gatty. “Not unless you're a cloud.”

Snout murmured something.

“What's that, Snout?” Brother Gabriel asked. “Isn't this the news you've been waiting for?”

“We can't, though,” said Snout. “We've only got six coins between us.”

“Listen!” said the knight-brother. “I've already paid for your passage out of our funds. These two traders have their own galley and they're sailing to Alexandria.”

“Where's Alexandria?” asked Gatty.

“In Egypt. And then on west through the Mediterranean.”

“West,” Snout repeated. “Not to Venice?”

The Hospitaller shook his head.

“Not to Venice!” Gatty said very loudly. “We can't, then.”

“Why not?” Brother Gabriel asked.

“Nest!” exclaimed Gatty. “And Simona. And Lady Gwyneth's grave. Everything!”

Brother Gabriel lowered his eyes.

“Syndod!” Gatty cried. “I can't leave her behind.”

For a moment the three of them were silent.

“It's the only way, girl,” Snout mumbled.

The knight-brother slowly nodded. “I believe it is,” he said. “No ships are sailing between here and Venice this side of Christmas, not that I know of. And even if they do, it'll be too late for you to cross the mountains before winter comes.”

Gatty frowned and shook her head. She put her hand into her cloak pocket, and closed it round her little carving of Syndod.

“They're leaving in the morning,” Brother Gabriel said.

“Tomorrow?” cried Gatty.

There were lights in Snout's eyes. He began to smile.

“A passage all the way to England!” the Hospitaller said. “To my mind, this is a little miracle.”

That night, Brother Gabriel sat with Gatty and Snout at supper and Gatty was much relieved to see Snout eating again. But her heart ached at not being able to see Nest in Venice, and lay flowers on Lady Gwyneth's grave, and collect Syndod from the livery stables.

The Hospitaller pinned palm badges onto each of them.

“You are palmers now,” he told them. “Wear these palms of Jericho and everyone will know you've been to Jerusalem.”

“Amen,” said Gatty.

“Amen,” said Snout.

“In making this pilgrimage, you have given other people a grave and beautiful example,” Brother Gabriel told them. “I will escort you myself to Jaffa, and I will pray for you. God will guide you safely home.”

With tears in his kind eyes, the knight-brother embraced each of them.

Before she went to her dormitory, Gatty hugged Snout.

“I been so worried,” she said in a small voice. And then, louder: “I been sick for days, I have.”

Snout held Gatty tight. “You're doing this for me,” he said. “I know you are. Not going to Venice.”

Gatty sniffed.

Without letting go of her, Snout eased Gatty away from him. “I'm sorry, girl,” he said, and Gatty saw that his eyes were moist. “Something got in my head,” he said. “It stopped me from hoping and doing and everything.”

“You saved me,” said Gatty. “You were so…constant. You stayed in Kyrenia and saved me, so I'm standing by you.”

“I'm sorry, girl,” Snout said again.

“Tomorrow!” said Gatty, half-eager, half-fearful. “Tomorrow!”

Snout nodded.

“Well! We done everything. Almost everything. Oh, Snout! Your nose!”

Snout shook his head gloomily. “I didn't think it would,” he said. “Not really. I did try to hope, though.”

“It's quite all right as it is,” Gatty told him. She picked up her candle and held it between her hands. “That song keeps going round in my head:

How many miles to Bethlehem?
Three score miles and ten.

Come on! You sing it too.”

Then Snout quietly joined in, out of tune:

“
Can we get there by candlelight?
Yes, and back again.”

“I wish we could!” Gatty exclaimed.

“What?”

“Get back by candlelight. It took so long, so long to get here.” Gatty stared into the flame of her candle. “I know,” she said.

“What?” asked Snout, and he yawned.

“I'm going to pray for Nest and Syndod, and I'll say one more prayer for Lady Gwyneth, just to make sure. Then, before I go to sleep, I'll pray for us, Snout. I'll pray we get home before this candle burns out.”