Chapter Thirteen - Unfurling

Maynard and the boys finished the stairs that morning. The steps clung to the wall with a smooth banister built into the stone, another focused down to the tall newel post at the bottom step. It was much easier to climb up and down those steps now, rather than going outside to the cloisters and around to the vestry. Even while Maynard was still there, the nuns began to utilise them. They had serious matters to attend and finding a man in the library was of little or no consequence to them. They did pause for a moment, to appreciate the work or congratulate Claude or Pierre on their endeavours, but most had to care for sick children and could spare little time for admiration.

All was in readiness for the replacement of the books and the library was expected to return to normal in a matter of days. Maynard had built shelves into the cupboard, utilising the space under the staircase. The side facing into the library awaited only the three carved panels that would fit into the wall of wood, including the door. They moved the bookshelves to new places nearest the entry to the library. Anne helped the carpenters clean the site and then went to fetch the Mother for her final inspection. The Mother had come, leaning on the shoulder of her confidant, Sister Beatrix. After examining the new stairs, Claude had been sent to find a chair for the Prioress, while in her turn, the Mother sent Sister Beatrix to find Jeanette.

The Mother said she had been impressed by the standard of work. She congratulated Maynard and shook Claude and Pierre each by the hand. She repeated her queries about the boys becoming apprentice carpenters. When they replied in the affirmative, she told them because they were not yet ten, they could take this opportunity to try the work for a year before being bound into apprenticeship. Both boys stood up straighter than ever before to give themselves the height they felt required for their newly elevated positions. They’d accompany Maynard back to his workshop to become acquainted with their new lives but usually they’d sleep and eat at the convent. They’d also be here on Sundays and Holy days.

The Mother then turned to Anne and gave permission for her to accompany her brother to see Maynard’s workshop. Then she paused, looking at Anne with concern. ‘What worries you, daughter?’

‘I don’t think I should go.’

‘But why, child?’

‘Léonie.’

‘Ah, yes, poor child. But what of your frown, Anne? You’re frightened for yourself?’

‘No, Mother.’ Anne found it difficult to resist telling the Mother her thoughts. ‘I am worried about the way she died, Mother. She didn’t confess or prepare her soul … ’

‘Although you were asleep, child, she wasn’t alone.’

‘But these were her last moments. How could it have been the right way?’

‘Léonie was but a little girl, and Jesus loves all children. She’ll be safe, Anne.’

Anne knew that Léonie had done kind things in her life and the Mother reassured Anne that Léonie would be on her way to heaven. Was that all? Anne was scared there were demons in the room last night, to take Léonie. Eloise had seen them. The Mother assured Anne that if there had been demons there were equally likely to have been angels and, if so, Léonie would have seen the angels. She told Anne that thunderstorms were nests for nightmares. Eloise might have seen shadows or heard some of the sick children crying out.

As far as Anne having to stay in the convent today, that poor little girl had no living relatives. If any child in the orphanage would have jumped at the chance to go out visiting with a brother or sister, it would have been Léonie. ‘Hold her memory in your heart and pray to God to help her get to heaven.’

‘Because she’s in purgatory?’

‘Yes.’

‘At peace?’

‘Yes, child, Léonie is at peace.’

Anne also knew that Sister Matildé and Sister Blandine were washing and wrapping Léonie in her winding sheet and would soon be laying her body in the parlour. Poor cold Léonie would join a babe and a small boy who had died the previous day.

Anne had offered to assist the nuns, but they had refused. The measles had taken its toll on the young orphans and, surprisingly, Sister Agnes had also been confined to her bed with a severe cough. She didn’t have the eruptions, and it was hoped she could avoid measles and recover soon. Anne understood both young and old were vulnerable to disease. She worried about Sister Agnes and prayed to Our Virgin Mother of God for her safe recovery.

The nuns told Anne the priest would officiate at the funerals on the following day. He’d also be called upon, if needed, to perform the Last Rites for any other child who was sick. Sisters Gertrude and Absolem, Geneviève and Catherine were all taken away from their normal work for nursing duties. Anne had also discovered that, together with two porter nuns, Marie Therese was digging the grave in the little cemetery next to the church.

Sister Beatrix led Jeanette, who wore a travelling cloak over her novice habit, to the top of the new fresh steps and nodded at the Mother below. Jeanette bowed her head respectfully to the Mother, smiled at Claude and Anne, and could not help looking at Maynard.

Anne watched the Mother turn to see Maynard’s eyes sparkle and his whole demeanour turn to face her sister as though she were the sun and he a sunflower.

Anne wondered if the Mother would change her mind about the outing. Surely, she had seen the couple’s obvious feelings? But no, as soon as Jeanette had made her way to the ground, the Mother told her she too would be going to see Claude’s new workplace. She did not offer the young novice a choice. Jeanette should make the most of the adventure and see where Claude would be in the future. Anne looked at the soft face bulging from the confines of her veil and wondered what that senior woman knew or suspected or might be thinking. Anything.

The Mother suggested that Maynard and Claude get about their business preparing and loading the cart. She also thought Claude and Pierre might wish to visit Louisa and see what provisions might be found to journey with them to the workshop. When the males had safely left the library and could be heard going out through the study and the day room, the Mother bid Jeanette step closer. Any doubts Anne had about the extent of the Mother’s empathy were dispelled as she watched the Mother take Jeanette’s hand in hers, and say softly, ‘My dear, God is generous and kind. Although you’re decided and resolute, you must know the religious life isn’t for everyone. It can be good to see what else Our Lord God offers and to open your heart to all possibilities. You’re a young woman who has rarely left this place since you arrived. Take this moment. Stretch your wings, little one.’

Jeanette looked at the Mother with wide eyes and Anne was amazed to see how frightened she looked but the Mother patted her hand and said, ‘Be reassured, Jeanette. “In all thy ways, acknowledge him and he shall direct thy path.”’

‘But Mother, how can … ‘

‘Now, child, going to see the workshop where your brother is to be apprenticed is not a dangerous journey. You may rest assured you have my full permission and understanding in everything you do.’

Jeanette appeared so horrified that Anne went to her at once and put her arm around her.

‘See, Jeanette?’ The Mother said, ‘Your little sister will help you see the world through her eyes. Do you want to be enclosed without so much as glimpsing what else might be yours?’

Anne gave her sister a squeeze to encourage her.

‘It’s a blessed moment of freedom, my daughter.’ The Mother waved to her companion, ‘Sister Beatrix, will you come to my aid?’ The Mother rose to her feet, and with the other nun’s help, moved out of the library.

Anne thought Jeanette looked just a little bit more courageous as they went outside to the waiting cart. Maynard smiled at Jeanette who found the bravery to return the favour. The Mother came to watch the loading of the cart with an encouraging smile. ‘Take care of your charges, Mijnheer Lauren.’ Maynard acknowledged her with a wave. The Mother turned to Jeanette and her little family, clustered together beside the cart. ‘Waste no time and bless you, my children.’

Anne was surprised she was smiling, too. After the events of the night, she had not thought it possible.

The boys finished loading tools and the remaining wood and brought Silvia back into harness. Maynard offered Jeanette a hand to assist her climb into the cart, but Jeanette shook her head shyly. She climbed easily to the seat and enveloped herself in her heavy woollen cloak as Maynard arrived beside her. He sat tall and proud beside Anne’s petite sister and smiled down at her as though she were a prize and he a surprise victor, which, Anne supposed, in a way, he was.

Anne and Claude ran to open the gates, and close them one after the other, as Silvia pushed forward, taking the strain behind her. Once the wheels were rolling the horse had only to keep the momentum of the weight rather than constant striving. The cart rolled around the corner to the road and Silvia trotted past the church with her head held high.

Anne helped Pierre hold the gate shut as Claude threw the bolt to. She was surprised to see Marie Therese standing at the corner of the public building, staring at her. Anne wondered how long she’d been there. She hoped the tertiary hadn’t seen Jeanette sitting up with Maynard but there was no time to be lost, and the three youngsters ran after the cart. They ran through the town and then, Anne keen to show her brother her owl tree, suggested they go by way of the woodland. On the way they found sticks and practiced fighting. Claude and Pierre were surprised by Anne’s new skills. Although she was annoyed she’d lost her sword, she told them about the cruel boys she’d encountered. They were running and playing hard when they arrived at the tree.

They stood in silence. Although the rain had stopped, the green around them was wet to the ankle and dripping to the hair. The sky was marbleised white, grey, and charcoal. A pewter sun tried to decorate the leaves with glister but managed only gloom. Cold splatters of water randomly hit the ground or ran down the back of an unprotected neck with no warning and no melody.

Lighting had gone through the tree, the force peeling a thick strip of bark down one side as cleanly as if Louisa had peeled a rotten side from a carrot. The tree had split into two uneven pieces. One heavy slide of wood and a major branch had crashed to the ground leaving a stark wooden arm stretching up to heaven, pleading for deliverance. After the initial shock of the sight of the blasted oak, Anne wasted no time in running to the workshop to fetch Maynard and Jeanette, who hadn’t even stopped the cart. They turned Silvia to the nearest clearing, made the horse safe, and came on foot to see.

Now, Anne and Jeanette, together with Claude and Pierre, stood in a semi-circle with Maynard, looking at the blasted tree. There were leaves, shattered splinters of wood and bark scattered some distance from the base, providing evidence of the force of impact. The dent in the soil was deep where the wood had crashed. It now lay more lightly on the ground and Claude invented a satisfying bouncing position, hanging on one small branch and leaning hard on the one underfoot. Pierre ran to assist in the game.

It was easy to see the remains of the hollow in the base and there was even still a leafbearing branch attached to the top edge of the remaining trunk. The topmost hollow, where the owls’ nest had been, was gone. Anne approached the bouncing branch and, while she watched Claude and Pierre balancing and jostling in fun, she was looking everywhere on the ground for … Then she found it … the remains of Jan’s basket. There was no sign of the baby owl. Just a tattered and squashed weaving of hazel.

Still holding the basket, Anne returned to Jeanette’s side. She kept looking to other trees to check if she was really looking at the right one. After the death of Léonie and the resultant efforts to clean the damp, and illness-ridden, dormitory, she struggled to make sense of anything. ‘Why would God want baby owls to die?’

‘It’s possible they escaped,’ reassured Maynard.

‘I’m sure Our Heavenly Father has some purpose in showing us this power,’ sai Jeanette. ‘It’s not for us to know.’

‘Life is short,’ said Maynard.

‘But the afterlife is long,’ said Jeanette. ‘Our choices here and now have everlasting consequences.’

‘Eternal life,’ sighed Maynard.

Anne sensed Maynard felt defeated by this enormous concept. She noted him lean towards Jeanette and how her sister seemed to fit beside him. Anne also felt confused. ‘But isn’t eternity forever?’ She asked and no-one answered. Then she added ‘How’s it possible to have no end and no beginning when God is Alpha and Omega? Isn’t that the beginning and the end?’

Jeanette said quietly, ‘O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!’

In the ash-grey midday there was silence apart from arbitrary trickles and drips throughout the woodland. Gradually, Anne found a feeling of peace as her small group seemed to pray together around the oak. There was no rush. But then a trickle of rain ran down her spine and she felt cold and restless. Claude and Pierre began to explore further afield. Everyone began to look in different directions and think different thoughts. They heard the church bells for Sext ring through the trees and dissolve into the clouds.

‘We’ll get some wood out of the tree.’ Maynard spoke first. ‘We’ll bring tools tomorrow, boys.

‘You mean cut it down?’

‘We can perhaps fashion furniture or platters if the damage to the heart wood is not too bad. Otherwise, we’ll have to burn it. And that will cook our dinner. So, not all is lost.’

Anne was worried for her little fluffy friend, ‘But what about the owl?’

‘It’s the way of the world. We live where we can until we cannot and then we move to the next place.’ Was there no end to the serious looks that Maynard shared with Jeanette?

The five were still around the stricken tree when Jan and Houtachtig, the little black and white dog, appeared. Houtachtig ran at the group barking and growling but, even so, wagging his tail. He appeared to recognise Anne, probably because she called his name and made a fuss of him, and was excited to be introduced to Claude, Pierre, and Jeanette as well. His owner came up soon and, clapping his son on the back, was also pleased to meet everyone.

The reason Jan had arrived, having heard the cart pull up at the workshop door and then depart again, was to tell them that Sara was ready with food for them all to share, and he hoped they’d join them at table.

Anne gave him the damaged owl basket. Jan looked at it in silence for a while. ‘Did you see feathers?’

‘No.’

Jan smiled at her, reassuring. ‘A good sign.’

Anne hoped so. She needed some good from this day.