Chapter Four - Unfurling

Claude and Pierre, with straight backs, carried a bench as close as they dared to the Virgin Mary. They stood on either side and to the rear of Jeanette as Angel Gabriel, played with dignified spirit by Sister Agnes, arrived on stage. Sister Agnes climbed up onto the bench, hardly wobbling at all, and, with the help of Claude and Pierre, stretched out her wings. The children with the silver salvers reflected the candlelight up to the angel. Eloise thought it an interesting effect to shake her salver, dancing the light playfully over Sister Agnes’s blinking eyes. Sister Blandine left the chorus to kneel beside Eloise and keep a steady hand on the errant salver. Sister Agnes looked grateful.

Jeanette, now with her back to the audience, stared at the spectacle, and fell to her knees.

Sister Agnes intoned, in the deepest voice full of drama she could muster, ‘“And the angel answered and said unto her, The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee: therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.”’

Jeanette bent her head and murmured, ‘“Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.”’

The nuns’ chorus raised their voices to sing, ‘“Holy Mother of God, pray for us. Holy Virgin of virgins, pray for us.”’

Sister Catherine stepped forward saying, ‘Joseph learned Mary was pregnant. He wanted to disown her. But he had a dream where an angel told him to marry Mary.’

Jeanette remained kneeling as Sister Agnes needed assistance to get down from the bench. She proceeded with her pair of pages with aplomb, brushing aside their helping hands and smiling at the audience, saying, ‘And so, Joseph did complete the wedding rituals.’

Colette, as Joseph, came to stand beside Jeanette. Gently, ‘he’ raised her to her feet and Anne was surprised to see how sweetly Colette looked at Jeanette as she assisted her to walk around the stage. Jeanette put her hands protectively over her belly, signifying she was now miraculously pregnant.

The nuns’ chorus sang: ‘“Mother most pure, pray for us. Mother most chaste, pray for us.”’

Sister Catherine said, ‘Joseph returned to Bethlehem where Jesus was born.’

Sister Absolem was waiting in the wings with their newest offering, a tiny babe who had been left in the orphans’ cupboard just two weeks before.

The cast of nuns and orphans moved in orderly and picturesque formation, twisting, and turning around each other as they sang, ‘“Mother inviolate, pray for us. Mother undefiled, pray for us.”’

Jeanette took the swaddled infant in her arms and returned to the stage. Colette put her arm around ‘his’ wife to form the nativity tableaux. Mary, flanked by Joseph, held baby Jesus. The small orphans became animals in the stable.

Sister Beatrix’s flute began the slow introduction to the traditional Dutch Christmas song, ‘A Virgin has been chosen.’ The little baby Jesus slept soundly. Jeanette and Colette shared a relieved glance before they looked down again in adoration of their ‘son’.

As the last notes from lute and flute warmed into satisfying harmony, Sister Catherine said, ‘Joseph dreamed that Herod intended to murder the infant.’

The Holy Family looked at each other in alarm. Mary quickly returned the real baby to the waiting Sister Absolem who gave her a wrapped doll to run with.

When she saw the players were ready, Sister Catherine continued, ‘Suddenly, from the midst of the bleating of sheep and the mooing of cows appeared a Great Red Dragon with Seven Heads, Ten Horns, and Seven Crowns.’

Strange snorts and groans were heard as the audience tried to stifle their laughter. Pierre and Claude, together with some of their stronger friends, entered and swung their Beast wildly. A choreographed fight scene danced around the playing area and the Dragon remained intact as it attempted to devour baby Jesus. With vigour Joseph and Mary were able to fend off the Dragon and, with a final dramatic flourish, Claude flicked the tail as they exited. After their last disastrous rehearsal, Claude and Pierre were jubilant and clapped each other on the back as soon as they thought they were out of view.

Another change of tableaux led to the Temple. Claude, now playing Jesus, faced the audience surrounded by masculine figures (wearing tunics borrowed from the monks) displaying only their backs.

Sister Catherine continued, ‘When Jesus was twelve, Mary found him talking to elders in the temple.’

Jeanette came to Claude and, leading him away, put her arm around her younger brother and smiled down at him.

Claude said, ‘Mother, why did you seek me?’

‘You’ve been missing for three days, my son.’

‘Please don’t worry, Mother. I was talking to my friends, the priests, about my Father.’

Jeanette took Claude by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. There was a hush through the room. ‘Dearest Son, believe me, I could not bear to live without you.’

Anne was enchanted when Claude embraced Jeanette and said, ‘Worry not, Mother. I’ll look after you,’ before Mother and Son walked off together.

During the fluster to get the next scene in order, Anne found Eloise in the lavatorium. Anne wiped Eloise, dragged her inside, stopped her crying and put the three little ones in line. Finally, she pushed them onstage with their props, hoping they would find their way. The Nuns’ Chorus sang, ‘Virgin most powerful, pray for us. Virgin most merciful, pray for us.’ As she sang, Anne could see the three children dressed in green, backs to the audience, holding up their crosses to represent Calvary, far away.

The next tableau again put Jeanette at the centre of the group of mourners. Marie Therese, with barely a nod to her role as a Roman Soldier, carried the body of Claude to lay over Jeanette’s lap. She stepped back as the Virgin looked to Heaven and grieved the loss of her son. Anne wondered at the twist of pain that crossed the lay nun’s face. Was Claude too heavy for her?

During the red heaven in the Pentecostal scene, where red handkerchiefs waved above the disciples’ heads like flickering flames and red flags waved to signify the wind of the Holy Spirit in the public parlour, Anne could see that Jeanette had seen the man from the market too. They were looking at each other. Jeanette was first to turn away.

The Dove of the Holy Spirit flew high above the entire gathering. It stayed fixed to the hazel stick even when Léonie gave some swift artistic swoops over the disciples.

It was clear to all that the cast had finally arrived in heaven when Jeanette was ceremoniously clothed in a cloth of gold, the raiment of the sun. The cleanest orphans had been dressed by Sister Absolem to look like cherubim and arranged with more responsible children to populate heaven with glowing guardian angels.

The chorus sang beautifully, and during her solo, Anne’s voice rose above them all as directed by Gustav. ‘Hail, star of the sea, Nurturing Mother of God, And ever Virgin, Happy gate of Heaven.’

Together, with ceremony, Heavenly Angel Anne, and Risen Jesus Claude, placed a twelve-starred crown on Jeanette’s head. The nuns’ chorus sang: ‘Queen of virgins, pray for us. Queen conceived without original sin, pray for us.’

Anne sang: ‘Pray for us, O holy Mother of God.’

Claude said, ‘That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.’

Then there was silence.

From her seat, the Mother bowed her head. ‘Let us pray. “Grant, O Lord God, we beseech Thee, that we Thy servants may rejoice in continual health of mind and body; and, through the glorious intercession of Blessed Mary ever Virgin, may be freed from present sorrow, and enjoy eternal gladness. Through Christ our Lord.”’

And everyone joined in with ‘Amen’.

Anne was sure the applause could have been heard from outside the wall. She saw Jeanette glance up to see if the man with shoulder-length hair was still at the back of the room before she picked up her golden robes and left the stage. The grille had never hidden a young novice so well nor so fast.

The servant nuns brought in refreshments for the audience, attending first to the nobles of the town. They offered horn cups of beer and leather cups of cider. There were slices of bread and cheese, bread and honey, and slices of apple. There were blackberries and a magnificent rhubarb tart which the Abbot would not allow past him perforce he must take a piece, lips pursing and fingers dancing mid-air as he paused to select the most generous portion. The servant nuns, clean and polite, invited the audience to withdraw to the Prioresses’ office, where a laden table waited. The people needed no second invitation and made their way from the parlour.

After he’d licked his fingers clean, Anne saw the Abbot get to his feet. His ankles were swollen, and his shoes had been cut at the back to allow more room for the flesh to overflow like one of Louisa’s loaves. He moved to bow to the Mother. He offered her congratulations for the cleverness of the script and the choreography.

The Mother bowed her head graciously but made no move to stand. ‘I will convey your admiration to Sister Gertrude, who had the direction of the piece.’

The Abbot said, ‘I cannot help but admire the naturalistic acting of your young people.’

‘As you know, Reverend Father, it is because of the educational nature of the play.’ The Mother said, ‘It must be helpful to the audience, as well as our children, to allow them better understanding the suffering of the saints, and especially that of our Blessed Virgin Mary.’

‘Indeed, Reverend Mother, it well suited that purpose.’

‘Thank you, Father.’

‘I also congratulate your young people on their … dragon? The two young men controlling it, are they of age to move to our choir?’

The Mother did not alter the mask of her face as she said, ‘Oh, neither can sing a note, Father. And, I am sorry, as practical boys, they are already apprenticed to craftsmen of the town.’

Anne knew the stonemason was looking for an apprentice and hadn’t heard her brother was promised already. But she had more urgent concerns and looked to find the man from the market. He was either hidden by bodies standing and moving through the room or gone. She was pleased to hear complimentary remarks from the Marquis speaking through the grille to his daughter and smiled at Sister Catherine as she turned to leave.

Anne determined she must run around to the front of the building. Just as she turned to leave the playing area, Mijnheer Gustav stopped her, ‘Well done, my dear. I am delighted with this day’s music. We’ll work together again, soon, I hope.’

Anne smiled at him, truly grateful for the musical opportunity he’d given her. ‘Thank you, Mijnheer. I should be pleased to be of use to you.’

They bowed together, a funny pair, thought Anne. He old, and yellowed with tobacco and she with her yellow hair tucked under a cap. On impulse she reached up and kissed the gruff old fellow on the cheek. It was hard to say which of them was more surprised, but Anne left the parlour then, and followed the community out into the garden, listening as she ran around the building toward the gates.

‘When those Pentecostal flags and handkerchiefs waved,’ Claude was laughing with Pierre. ‘Did you see the hair of the Abbot flap in the air?’

Grinning, Pierre agreed, ‘Not that he has much hair to move.’

Marie Therese hit out hard at both boys where she could reach as she passed them. ‘Respect, elders and betters.’

‘Yes, Marie Therese, forgive us,’ said Claude instantly before both lads disappeared into the field behind the convent.

When Anne got to the front door, she could see Armaud in conversation with the man from the market. He invited him to enter the front door and from there presumably back to the parlour. Anne watched, realising she would have no decent hiding place if she were to follow them into the main entry hall. Back she went, round the building and through the garden and back into the parlour, behind the grille again. People still spoke through the grille but her little corner behind the red curtain was free. She reached her observation nook just as Armaud brought the man from the market in front of the Mother.

‘Begging your pardon, Mother,’ Armaud said. ‘I would like to introduce you to Maynard Lauryn, the journeyman, born and bred here, in Templemars. You may be assured of his trustworthiness.’

Anne examined the man, thinking to herself, ‘Oh, so this is a journeyman.’

‘Thank you, Armaud.’ The Mother smiled at both men, before dismissing the monk. ‘I hear you’ve quite a reputation, young man. Mijnheer Lauryn, is it?’

‘Please, call me Maynard, Mother,’ he said. ‘A good one, I hope, Mother?’

‘You’ve recently returned from Lille?’

‘That’s correct, Mother.’

‘And what, exactly, were you doing there?’

‘I worked on the altar piece in the Collegiate church of St Peters, and there were private carvings for the screens in the Palais Rihour. Unfortunately, there was some question after the King’s death ... ’

‘I see.’ Anne thought the Mother the cleverest woman in the world. How did she know what the journeyman was talking about? The Mother continued, ‘And Armaud explained our problem?’

‘Yes,’ the journeyman nodded, looking as if he calculated how best to communicate with this businesswoman.

‘You know Armaud well?’

Again, the Journeyman nodded and added a small grin. ‘I’ve known him since childhood, Mother. It was by chance I met him in the marketplace yesterday. I saw a boy being beaten. One of your little angels, I believe. I didn’t recognise him here today. I hope he’s well?’

‘One of our little angels? I wonder who that could be?’ The Mother turned and looked around the room. Anne, certain the Mother looked for her, sank further back into her nook.

‘Armaud mentioned your staircase. And the need to rebuild it?’

‘Indeed. Did he tell you what had happened to it?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Perhaps he understands how much I like to tell the stories myself.’

Maynard had the wit to nod and smile as she continued.

‘Sadly, one night last year, the front stairs to the sleeping quarters caught fire. Perhaps it was a fallen candle, we can’t be certain. We were able to leave by the other staircase and could throw enough sand and … other liquids … to keep the flames at bay. We asked permission of the church to rebuild a simple staircase. It was decided it would be of benefit to our prayers if our holy family had some inspirational images to assist our devotions. Armaud says we’re lucky to have you returned to Templemars.’

‘He flatters me, Mother Prioress.’

‘I do hope not. It’s past time to restore our more decorative elements in the new style.’

‘With God’s help, Mother.’

‘There are problems around this business, however. You’re a man.’

He shrugged at the Mother as if to say, well, there is nothing I can do about that.

The Mother Prioress went on, silently agreeing with his shrug. ‘Our problem is that the stairway is from the library to the nuns’ dormitory. Clearly, not a place where we want male visitors. Luckily, the quick action of some of our sisters saved the library. We have buckets of sand in all the wooden buildings for such events.’

‘Wise indeed, Mother.’

‘I must assure you I am not afraid on our nuns’ behalf. They are, without exception, sensible people. However, you’ve met the Abbot? You know his strict opinions concerning the Priory? The Council of Trent has certain ideas about religious societies and, unfortunately, some of these ideas mean women are not free to do business as they would like. What I would want to know is, can nuns assist?’

‘I need to assess the scope of the job myself. The pieces could be cut, and I can sculpt, in my father’s workshop then deliver the results.’

‘Your time here must be short, efficient, and finite. You understand?’

‘I should be able to assemble the stairs in one day. Especially if I had my father’s assistance.’

‘Claude and Pierre are capable young men, perhaps you might be able to utilise them?’

‘All assistance gratefully received. May I enquire their ages?’

‘You saw them in the performance. With the dragon of their own making.’

Anne was almost insulted on Claude’s behalf when Maynard responded with mirth, but he doused his laugh down to a polite smile, to match the Mother’s business-like manner.

She continued gravely, ‘We’ll expect you at the main gate after your midday meal. At the eighth hour?’

He bowed, ‘As you wish, Mother Prioress. I’m grateful for this opportunity.’

‘You may not think so well of us when you realise your work will only ever be seen by a small group of women.’

‘Mother, if all my clients were as discerning as your community, my life would be blessed.’

Anne realised Maynard was preparing to leave. She backed around the corner and straight into Marie Therese who was also apparently eavesdropping. In quick response, Marie Therese raised her arm, but Anne ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction out into the garden. She was only grateful the carpenter had not reported her.

There would be a strange man in the convent, not Armaud, not Gustav, not the Abbot, nor Father Vincent, for the first time in many years. And that man was Anne de Breuil’s idea of heaven.