Chapter Twenty

A fire not blown shall consume him.

Job 20:26

Sennett felt calmer when she went back to London and settled back into the rhythm and pace of Oxford. She deliberately didn't think about the things Abbot Philemon had said and tried not to dwell on thoughts of Silas. They would keep coming back at odd times – something he had said or a particular expression on his face. It no longer made her unhappy, however. She would even smile quite often when she remembered some of his odder questions or more amazed expressions.

Silas was struggling more and more, however. He withdrew into himself even further in confessional although his friendships within the community were still good. He felt like he was wrestling with shadows that he couldn't name.

In so many ways, he felt he was growing. The ways of the gentle men around him were rubbing off on him. He learned how to mix with others, to have considerate manners and understand what was expected in terms of civilised behaviour both in a group and one-on-one. He learned some of the art of small talk without being false or insincere; the kind of communication that greased communal life and made it more pleasant. He learned to have more confidence in approaching others with questions or for help. He was never rebuffed or treated unkindly which made him so much more secure. In that sense, his anxiety lessened exponentially which felt both odd because it was strange to him not to be so anxious but also quite wonderful. He felt lighter and freer.

Brother Paul taught him how to deal with those outside the Abbey who supplied certain goods and services to their farm. Silas found himself communicating with ordinary, good-hearted, honest people in the local village and beyond. They wanted to get along with him, not just for the business that the Abbey bought them but because they were basically nice people – the sort of people that Silas had never known before. It was a source of wonder and astonishment to him that such people existed, particularly outside monastery walls. It warmed him and gave him hope to know them through his new work. He enjoyed hearing about their families and their lives in the surrounding villages. As time went on, he found it increasingly easy to talk to them naturally without his usual restraint. It made him wonder if it was possible to find a place populated by people like this somewhere in the world; a place where he could settle down and have a life without the strict Rule of a monastery.

After nearly six months, Silas made an honest assessment of his time at the Abbey in the privacy of his own cell one night.

He admitted that he loved working on the farm with the animals and seemed to be good at it. He would like to keep doing that. He liked the company of the other men but they had so little time together socially that he felt he never got enough time to enjoy it. He was doing well with his study through Berne University and it was opening up so many things to him. He would be devastated to lose his chance to complete his degree. The supportive environment at the Abbey was helping him enormously to grow as a social person and to gain confidence. He was no longer afraid that he didn't know how to behave properly amongst normal, well-adjusted people.

He was getting frankly fed up with the Rule, however. He didn't like being made to pray in such a regimented way. He had not questioned it at Opus Dei but then again, Opus Dei hadn't had a Divine Office that started at 2am and didn't finish until 6pm. He found getting up at such ridiculous hours unnecessarily tiring. He didn't want to talk to God at 2am and he didn't want to go to bed at 7pm.

If he could find a way to still work in animal husbandry, still study through Berne and be with people like those he encountered outside the community in the villages, Silas believed be could be happy. He didn't need the Rule so long as he could get to Mass every Sunday. He didn't need set prayer times, so long as he found time to spend with God every day. He didn't need his time with others restricted so ridiculously. Those times helped him grow as a person – it was helping him become more normal and confident and secure every day. He needed more of it.

Silas was sure he would be able to choose who would be good people to mix with now. He had had an opportunity to see all walks of life; the bad and the good. He had no desire to mix with the bad ever again. At least now he knew there were good people out there, if one was discerning. He was confident he could find good people to share his life with and avoid the bad.

Despite all these positive things that made Silas feel so much lighter in so many ways, he still wasn't happy. It wasn't the weight of the Rule dragging him down. He was used to unpleasant discipline. There was something more that he still couldn't name. It caught him at odd, unguarded moments. Suddenly he would be aware of a vast, empty space within. It felt big enough to stretch to the horizon. It felt deep enough to have no bottom. The emptiness ached and hurt. Those moments were overwhelming. Feeling this vast space within him frightened Silas. He was afraid he would always feel it and never get away from it. At the same time, he was desperate not to feel it. He would almost want to hurt himself again so the physical pain would distract him from it. Sometimes it haunted him for days. It would weigh down his limbs as well as his heart. He would find it hard to function, hard to care about what he was doing, hard to concentrate on the task at hand and impossible to pray.

After six months of so many wonderful new discoveries, Silas could no longer blame the trauma of everything that had happened before coming to the Abbey. It was something else, something he couldn't name.

In the end, he turned to the one thing he knew would make him feel better for awhile. He pulled Sennett's last email out of the pocket of his robe and carefully unfolded it to read again.

Sennett knew deep down she was getting sicker. There were times she felt an odd sinking feeling. She chose to ignore it. She didn't care if she was sick. It didn't seem like anyone else cared either. People still made the same demands they always did. People rarely, if ever, asked her how she was – even those who knew she was sick who were around her every day and her own family. Certainly no-one showed any consideration or sympathy. It made her fed up with people sometimes. The human race was selfish. Being sick had shown her that. So long as you were able to deliver to others what they wanted, they didn't care how you were or what it may cost you.

It seemed like she had stopped caring about anything much herself. She traced this strange reaction back to the time Silas had left London. Ever since then, she hadn't felt any drive to keep going. She just kept going because she didn't know what else to do.

She kept going until she finally collapsed one day at work about six months after Silas had left.

When Silas opened his email and didn't see Sennett's usual weekly email, his spirits sank so suddenly, sharply and completely that it scared him. It wasn't like Sennett not to communicate. She was a faithful correspondent. She had never missed a single week since he left London. Perhaps something had happened to prevent her getting on-line before Saturday?

Feeling desperately anxious and not knowing what to do with the feeling, Silas logged out. He immediately went to the phone in the refectory that any of the monks could use at restricted times to ring Seraphim, stopping by his cell to get the number. Fortunately, they were allowed to use the phone after 6pm on any night of the week.

Seraphim's answering machine picked up.

You have rung the home of Seraphim S. I am currently away on retreat and will be uncontactable for a few weeks. If you would like me to ring you on my return, please leave a message after the beep.

Silas hung up with a feeling of despair. What did he do now? He stood alone in the refectory as still as a statue for a long time as his mind tried to work out a solution to the problem.

Sennett could be in trouble, she could be sick… If she was just away, she still would have contacted him by email. No, something had to be wrong…

Finally Silas decided to wait until Wednesday and check his email again. He didn't care if it broke the Rule. Sennett was more important than any Rule. If he hadn't heard from her by then, he would go back to London to try and find out what had happened. She had given him a key to her flat to keep in case he ever needed to go back for any reason. He didn't care if the Abbey threw him out for it. He would figure something else out.

With desperation sitting in his heart like a weight, he went to his cell to count the hours until Wednesday night.

The Abbot could tell immediately that Silas was restless and anxious over the next few days. No attempt on his behalf would draw Silas out as to why. The Abbot guessed it was something to do with Sennett but without Silas being willing to tell him about it, there was nothing he could do to help. He had a feeling that Silas would not be at the Abbey for much longer, not because they would expel him but because he would leave and not wish to come back.

Sennett had given Silas a brand new credit card the day before he left for the Abbey.

"If something happens and you need to get away from the Abbey quickly, if one of your enemies finds out where you are and you need to make a run for it, I want you to use this credit card to buy anything you need – airfares, food, accommodation, new clothes, whatever," she had told him, handing it over, "I'll keep an eye on it and make sure its paid each month. Make sure you sign the back before you use it."

It was a platinum Visa Card. The limit on it boggled Silas' mind. He had no idea what on earth he would ever need that would account for the limit she had put on it. He had carefully hidden it doubting he would ever need it.

When he opened his email late on Wednesday night and there was still nothing from Sennett, Silas knew he was leaving and may never be back. He took the Visa out of its hiding place, packed his own personal belongings (pitifully few) including his study materials, put on the clothes he had worn to come to the Abbey and slipped out the building into the night.

He had already located a road map with directions back to London from Zurich on the internet, and called a cab. The only car hire place open at this hour would be the airport, so that was where he was going first.