Chapter Nineteen

I lie awake, and am like a sparrow alone on the housetop.

Psalm 102:7

The weeks dragged by and before Sennett knew it, it had been a month since Silas left for Engelberg. They had stayed in touch via weekly emails but it wasn't the same as sitting down to a meal with him and being able to talk the way they once had. Still, she looked forward to hearing from him and he never missed a weekly email.

She expected to gradually adjust to not having him around, for the loneliness to diminish but to her surprise, it didn't. If anything, it deepened over time. She never really got used to her empty flat again. She withdrew slightly from her other friends, turning down more invitations than she used to. She didn't feel like putting on a cheerful façade. Perhaps knowing Silas and dealing with his problems had taken more out of her than she realized? Perhaps she needed a holiday away from London and work.

The long Summer holidays were due soon and Oxford would get very quiet. She was pretty sure she could get permission to take 2-3 months off. Another tutor could cover for her in the few weeks she would miss of the new semester.

The more Sennett thought about it, the more she wanted to get away from London and her flat. It had been a long time since she had visited many places around Europe that she had really loved. Her parents had made sure she was well-traveled by the time she was a teenager, so she knew the places that she enjoyed visiting.

She would take her laptop for her private work. Internet connections could be found everywhere in Europe, so she would miss none of Silas' emails.

The first place she would go was a private castle on the coast of Italy. Her parents were well enough acquainted with the owners for her to be able to rent it for a month or so. Several movies had been shot there but her favourite was 'Enchanted April'. Sennett decided she needed an Enchanted June in order to get her feathers smooth again.

Silas received Sennett's emails each week as eagerly as the first one. Somehow, when he was reading that weekly email, all the loneliness and unhappiness of the previous week seemed to fall away. Although he really had settled in to Engelberg well in terms of routine, he still was battling malaise and that awful, debilitating ache.

The men of the community were very caring but due to the contemplative nature of the Order, they rarely spent social time together. He didn't have much chance to get to know them well. Even if he had, he doubted he would have much in common with any of them. He would not be able to tell them the truth about himself and his past. With Sennett, it had been so easy to be honest and be himself.

She was taking holidays and sent him digital photos over the email every now and then of the places she was staying in. His eyes grew wide when he saw the rich, magnificent colour of the Italian castle gardens. Every shade of the rainbow was crowded in wild profusion from garden to beach, and then stretched water silvered by dancing sunlight to the horizon. It was a dream of heaven. Silas had never seen anything like it. His life had been lived in the poor suburbs of Marseilles as a boy – dreary and ugly and dirty, then on the hideous streets until being shut away in a tiny stone cell in a jail. He had seen more of the world after that within Opus Dei but his life was shut away most of the time until he had a mission to perform. Then his view of the world had been narrowed down to simply knowing the best path to follow in order to trap a particular man. His surroundings were singularly irrelevant. He barely saw them except as information on how to get to his target.

Was it possible to have a life where one could visit places like this, just because they were beautiful? It seemed it was. The thought was a revelation to Silas' narrow and intensely practical vision of life. It seemed like an impossible dream for someone like him and perhaps it still was. His life had always been defined by survival and work, not by beauty and pleasure and fun. He didn't know how to change it.

Sennett whiled away the month in Italy. She had a few friends that she had invited to visit her for a few days at a time and it was lovely to see them when they came but she was just as glad to see them go. For most of the time, she jealously guarded her days.

The Italian sunshine would probably have done her some good if she could go out in it. It was easy enough to stay in the shade with all the mature trees around the estate and in the garden. She longed to swim in the sea but had to go either early in the morning or late in the afternoon when the cliffs shaded the water.

The rest of the time, she lazed in the garden and took long walks in the shady garden. She tried to read, there were always a lot of books being published that she should keep on top of in her line of work. Usually it was easy to be interested in them. For now however, she found it impossible to concentrate. She didn't want to do anything at all, not even think. She found herself noticing things around her far more, the shape of a flower petal or the different coloured feathers on a bird. In some ways, it was like being a kid again. There was time to watch the changing shapes of the clouds and have an empty mind.

At the end of the month, she packed up to go to Norway. She loved the fjords and it was enough of a change to sound interesting.

One month turned into three with aching slowness for both Silas and Sennett.

The Abbot could not figure out the reason for Silas' malaise. In every way, he had settled in well. The other men genuinely liked Silas for his humility and deferential manner, as well as respecting his work ethic. They knew if they took the time to talk to Silas, they were going to be listened to both respectfully and with authentic interest. Silas liked to hear other people's stories; it gave him an insight into other ways of living that he had never been exposed to before. It gave him new ideas about life. It made him wonder about the choices that may be open to him if he was willing to take risks.

In the end, the Abbot decided to contact Sennett. He had Seraphim's excellent advice on handling Silas - all of it having worked extremely well as far as it went. He didn't have Sennett's view on his Novice, however. It could prove valuable or provide some insight.

He rang Seraphim at the library he worked at and Seraphim gave him Sennett's email address. Apparently she was away from London on holiday but was checking her emails.

Dear Ms Langlois,

His Grace, Bishop Seraphim has kindly given me your email address. I hope you will pardon my intrusion on your holiday.

I write in regards to a friend of yours. I won't name him over the internet least it compromise him in some way. As you know, he is well into his Novitiate at our Abbey. As his Confessor, I felt it might help me to help your friend if I were able to meet with you to discuss your time with him and what you learned about him. It might give me some insights on how best to guide your friend at the present time, as he seems to be suffering from a kind of melancholy that will not lift.

I am happy to report that in every other way, your friend is doing very well. He has just begun his studies at Berne University and the reports from his lecturers are excellent so far. His skills in animal husbandry go far beyond the time he has spent apprenticed to the head of our farm and he is well liked by the other monks here. As such, I am at a loss to understand his depressed spirits. I know his past has been tragic and cruel but he knows he is in a safe and accepting place. He should be blossoming in confidence and self-esteem, and I believe he has made progress in these areas in leaps and bounds. However, something seems to be oppressing him, preventing his happiness in these achievements.

I am happy to meet with you in Prague at your convenience which is where I understand you are currently holidaying. I am due to attend a Benedictine conference in Berlin next week and would be able to stop in Prague while in transit.

Could you please kindly indicate whether you are willing to meet with me next week by return?

Regards,

Abbot Philemon.

Sennett could not have been more surprised. The Abbot's timing was good. She was due back in Oxford the week after next, so if he had wanted to meet her after next week it would have had to be in London.

She could see no harm in meeting the Abbot. She wasn't sure whether the Abbot simply wanted to pry into the parts of Silas' past that the Bishop had not been able to reveal due to the seal of the confessional. Sennett felt protective of Silas. She would not tolerate prying. So, it was with a spirit of wariness that she replied to the Abbot's email to meet her in her Hotel Lobby the following week.

Sennett loved Prague. It made her feel like she was in a different centuary; a slower, more gracious and more human centuary. She knew it was an illusion. It would have been a more brutish and dangerous centuary too. Still, she'd rather focus on the beauty and graciousness of the architecture and imagine to herself that it was an easier era to live in.

She waited in the Hotel Lobby. She knew the Abbot's plane was on time because she'd checked the internet site. He wouldn't be far away. She knew she would recognize him, he would be in black monk's robes. He would stick out quite a bit.

Sure enough, almost exactly when she expected him, a monk in black robes with grizzled hair walked into the lobby. Sennett got up from a seat and walked over to him. He was obviously looking around for her.

"Abbot Philemon?" Sennett said, walking up behind him.

The Abbot whirled around, "Sennett?" he said and then his eyes widened in surprise. In a flash of certainty, the Abbot knew without doubt why Silas was depressed and struggling. The answer was standing right in front of him.

"Would you like to share a pot of tea or some coffee with me in the lounge? There are not many people around at this time of the morning and we should be able to talk freely," Sennett said.

"I hope you won't find it an intrusion but would you mind having our chat in your suite? I'm concerned for your friend's safety if what we discuss is overhead," the Abbot asked.

Sennett nodded. She could see he was being very, very careful. That was a comfort. At least he was taking extra-special care of Silas.

Sennett took the Abbot up to her suite and wondered what on earth any other patrons would think if they saw him entering or leaving her room. She smirked to herself. After offering the Abbot a chair at a small table, she rang down for coffee and cake.

"What do you want to know about Silas?" Sennett asked, coming straight to the point when she sat down again.

"Just your impressions of him. I know so few people who know Silas, so it's of help to me if other people can share insights into his character and personality to help me guide him. His soul is in my care at the moment," the Abbot said, somewhat heavily.

Sennett shook her head slightly, "How do I describe Silas to you? He is indescribable. He is so different from any other person you will ever know. You've had more time with him in your care than I spent with him, so I'm surprised you are asking me this."

The Abbot shrugged, "The routine of the Abbey is very strict. There is little time for socialising. I only have an hour or so with Silas each week as his Confessor and I must say, he has not been particularly forthcoming with me. He will answer any direct question I ask him truthfully but he won't just talk about himself or how he's feeling or his past or his hopes for the future."

At that point, the morning tea arrived and Sennett poured the Abbot some coffee and gave him a slice of the cake.

"Silas is more of a question asker than a talker," Sennett said thoughtfully, "Perhaps his questions tell you more about who he is than the things he might otherwise say. Do you ask all the questions?"

The Abbot immediately realized she was right. He had been asking all the questions. He should have given Silas encouragement to ask as many as he liked.

"Thank you, that already helps me immensely," the Abbot said humbly, "I get the impression that you spent a great deal of time with Silas, just talking," he added after a pause.

"The only times we really had was over breakfast or dinner because I was at work most of the time and he was passed out on pain killers. On the weekends, I would be in and out of the flat running errands or meeting up with friends. We did have some very personal conversations on occasion, however. He seemed to feel comfortable talking to me. I'm not sure why," Sennett admitted.

"I know that Silas emails you every week and he gets a great boost from hearing from you. He keeps a copy of your weekly email in his habit pocket. He is not being disobedient in this and no-one minds but it is like you are a private thing to him that he doesn't wish to share," the Abbot said carefully.

Sennett stared at the Abbot. She had been expecting the conversation to go in this direction. She knew how it must look to others. The unexpected news about Silas keeping her emails made her feel suddenly glad.

"Abbot Philemon, I know what you are trying to say and I understand why. I know what you are thinking and I do have to tell you that our relationship was not like that. We never even exchanged a hug, let alone anything else," Sennett said bluntly but in non-aggressive tones.

The Abbot didn't know whether to be surprised or not. He had guessed that Sennett was not stupid. You didn't have the degrees and job that Sennett did if you were stupid. What he hadn't known was that Sennett was also a very direct, straightforward person.

"You don't have to have had a physical relationship for there to be ties of the heart," the Abbot said gently, "And there is nothing wrong in that feeling being there."

Sennett was silent for a few moments. "I have no idea what Silas felt for me other than gratitude perhaps," Sennett said honestly, "I don't think I was the kind of person that he had ever encountered before, so perhaps there was some curiousity as well. I think he may have envied the opportunities I'd had in life too. I think I opened up the world to him a little – just a tiny crack. Through my eyes, he was able to see a lot of things differently."

"Why was he able to open up to you when he finds it so difficult with anyone else?" the Abbot asked.

"I think he met me in a very vulnerable moment – life and death, in fact. He had no option but to trust me if he was going to survive," Sennett said, knowing full well it really wasn't the full answer. She didn't know the full answer herself.

"And why did you do so much for him, a perfect stranger and obviously a dangerous one too? Why did you choose to hide him from the Police, why weren't you afraid of him, why have you invested so much of your personal wealth into his comfort and his future?" the Abbot asked quietly.

Sennett shook her head. She didn't know herself. There weren't many people she would do that for. "I just felt right at the start that he was more of a victim than a danger. I felt sorry for him because he was so vulnerable. When I heard his story soon after I took him in, I knew my instinct had been right," she replied, again knowing her answer was incomplete. After a pause, she said, "He does have a truly terrible vulnerability."

The Abbot knew what Sennett meant. For such a large man who obviously had a history of violence of some kind, there were times he seemed as vulnerable as a small child.

"I think he loves you," the Abbot said gently but uncompromisingly.

The words were shocking to Sennett. She had never even thought them. She had refused to think them. She didn't want to think them. There was no point. It was not a thought that someone like herself had any right to. She was sick and she would be a burden on any man.

She felt the shock of the thought spread out over her skin like cold water. She couldn't say a thing.

"I'm not sure he understands that, however," the Abbot added truthfully. After a moment, he said, "When I first saw you, I knew it. You are beautiful, not just pretty. You are roughly the same age. You treated him like a human being, perhaps the first person to ever do so. Someone like you would have an enormous impact on someone like Silas, particularly when he was in such a terrible situation. It would be very hard for him to walk away and walk out of your life without feeling like he was losing the best thing that ever happened to him – because you are the best thing that ever happened to him."

Sennett shook her head, almost in denial. "I don't know if you are right but I'm not sure what you want me to do about it even if you are," she said. She went to take a sip of her coffee to cover up her discomfort but her hands were shaking so badly that it only made it worse.

The Abbot could see that he'd upset her quite badly. He realized he was not looking at a manipulative or selfish or vain woman who had lured a vulnerable man into loving her just because she could.

"I'm sick, Abbot. I don't have any right to love a man who would only find me a burden eventually," she whispered, tears in her dark eyes.

The Abbot was shocked. He had no idea that she was sick. She told him a little about the disease; roughly what she had once told Silas himself.

"Perhaps he is just having trouble settling in," she said finally, clinging to the hope that he'd be fine in time. She badly wanted Silas to be happy.

The Abbot shook his head slowly. "No Sennett, you must face the truth even if Silas is still ignorant of it."

"What do you think I should do about it?" she demanded, almost angrily. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so agitated.

"I think one day he will leave the Abbey and come to you. Just be ready for it," the Abbot said simply, "Until then, we will continue to shelter him."

"Thank you," Sennett whispered.

"At any rate, now I know why I can't get through to him and why he is unhappy. He will realize the truth in time. For now, I can't do anything more than I am doing," the Abbot said, "Thank you for your time Sennett. You have helped me immensely."

Sennett felt restless after the Abbot left but suddenly, she didn't feel so depressed. She decided to return to London early.