Chapter Twenty-One

And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.

John 8:32

Silas knew he would not make it to London before the sun rose and he didn't want to travel through England in daylight, so he stayed in a small motel just outside Paris during the day and slept. At 6pm, he set out again. He would get to Sennett's flat at around midnight depending on when the Ferries left Calais. Driving at night, he would make better time into London as well.

Silas felt strange during the long night-time drive. It felt odd to leave the Abbey behind him. It felt like he was leaving more than Engelberg Abbey. It was as though he had shut the door on a whole way of life; a whole option for his future was now a closed issue. It left him feeling very free but oddly disconnected. He felt surer about his decision than he had ever felt about anything. The life of a monk was not for him and there was nothing further to be thought about or discussed. It was a dead issue. His future was now an open book but he was in no hurry to make plans.

The strangest thing about the decision was that it felt entirely his own. He was so used to having his life regimented for him by either the necessities of survival or by obedience to an authority that having the freedom to make a life-changing and vital decision about how he wanted to live was a strange feeling. Silas didn't realize it at the time but it was the security and confidence that the brothers in the Abbey had carefully instilled in Silas over time that enabled him to make decisions freely and without the old fear and anxiety that used to dog him. The brothers had put the tools in Silas' hands for him to break free of a life he wasn't suited to.

Silas found it hard to sleep in the motel. He was worried about Sennett and it bothered him that he couldn't do any more than he was to find out if she was okay. Time hung heavily on his hands. Finally he fell asleep over one of his text books that he had bought with him.

By the time he reached London and parked his car in a side lane near Sennett's flat, he was almost afraid of what he would find. There was no-one else around on the back streets of Kensington at this time of night, so he was able to let himself into her flat without being seen. The flat was in darkness and Silas turned on the lamp in the lounge room, easily remembering his way around although it was six months since he had been there.

Silas could feel immediately that the flat was empty and had been shut up for awhile. Everything was left as though Sennett had expected to be back soon, however. It was obvious that she had not been planning to go away.

At this time of night, Silas could not do anything much. Even if Seraphim had been back from his retreat, he would not have been able to call him at this time of night. All he could do was wait until morning. He was sure Sennett would have an address book with her friends' contact details in it. He could ring them to see if they knew where she was. He didn't have to identify himself. He could also try and track down her department at Oxford. Her workmates must know where she was.

He curled up tired on the couch and began to fall asleep. He felt odd, as though he had come home. It was a silly thing to feel when it was really Sennett's home and he had only spent a month here before. Still, it was the one place in the world where he had felt completely comfortable. He could feel that comfort flooding his veins once again as his white eyelashes closed over his pale eyes.

Sennett checked herself out of the hospital early that morning. She did feel much better than when she had been raced there in an ambulance but she knew she wasn't very strong yet. The doctors didn't really seem to know why she had collapsed. Then again, that was the problem with having Lupus. The doctors didn't seem to have a clue. They didn't know what caused the disease and they didn't really know how to treat it either. It was really a case of suppressing symptoms rather than curing the disease. What use was that? She always felt like a guinea pig that doctors were testing their theories on. It was annoying and exhausting. She knew she just needed rest and peace. A hospital was no place to get either.

It was in depressed spirits and without much hope that she finally returned to her flat which she had been away from for nearly ten days. She was glad to be away from the hospital but not overjoyed to be back in her flat.

Silas was in the kitchen making himself a cup of tea after just waking up when he heard the key in the lock and came through to the lounge, hoping it was Sennett. He could feel his heart pick up speed as he walked through.

Sure enough Sennett had just walked in but his heart almost stopped when he saw her. She looked ill and tired and dispirited. Her skin was paler than usual and her eyes looked too bright with fever. Her cheeks were thinner, the bones of her face more prominent. He could tell she was physically weak just by looking at her. She actually looked like she might fall down any moment.

When she saw him though, her face transformed. At first she looked stunned but then she smiled slowly, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. She dropped her bag and went straight over to him.

It looked like she might hug him at first but seemed to hesitate. She put out her hand to him, for him to take. Her dark eyes searched his face, wanting to see how he was. He looked very well, much better than she had ever seen him. He had fresh colour in his face and had lost that haggard, exhausted look. Obviously farm work in the fresh air agreed with his constitution. No doubt the lack of corporal mortification and endless fasts had helped his health a great deal too.

For Silas' part, he wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. He pulled Sennett's slender form against him in a hug. Sennett realized quickly that Silas still hadn't mastered the art of hugging. He was holding her far too tightly. She could barely breathe. She wondered if he knew his own strength. It was considerable and her ribs felt ready to break. She put her arms around his neck for lack of any other place to put them. It was awkward to do anything else in this bone-crushing embrace. Despite the suffocating nature of her position, she could feel herself melting into the warmth of Silas' body. It felt so good, she half hoped he would never let go. However, he would have to if she was ever to breathe again.

For the first time in a long, long time Sennett felt perfectly safe and at peace. It surprised her, how strong this feeling was. Nothing felt out of place. She could breathe in Silas' scent forever or so it seemed. He smelt clean, like fresh mountain air and sunlight soap. She closed her eyes and rested her silky dark head on his chest, feeling herself relax. When was the last time she really felt relaxed? She couldn't remember.

Silas didn't want to let go. She felt fragile in his embrace, all small bones like a bird. If he hadn't known she had been ill by looking at her, he would have known it when he held her. He could feel she was thinner than when he had left. To his surprise and jubilation, he felt Sennett's body relax and lean against him. It was like when he held a small, sick animal. They just went still in his large, pale hands.

Neither of them moved or spoke for a long time. Finally Sennett lifted her head and looked up into Silas' face, her dark eyes darting over his face searchingly once more.

She put her hands on either side of his face and looked him in the eye, "How are you Silas?" she asked seriously, "Are you alright?"

Silas didn't understand why she was asking him this when it was obvious it was her who was not alright.

He simply nodded, "I'm fine. I was worried about you when I hadn't heard from you. It's not like you not to write. I thought something had happened to you and now I can see you've been sick," he said, his pale brows drawing together in a frown that Sennett found achingly familiar.

"How did you get to London?" she asked, her expression worried.

"I drove but only at night. No-one saw me," he reassured her.

"It was a risk," Sennett said anxiously.

Silas shook his head, "I couldn't stay away. I would have worried myself to death wondering what had happened," he said with his breath-taking honesty and lack of guile.

Sennett's face cleared a little as she absorbed this. "I missed you," she said truthfully.

Silas' pale eyes lit up with a strange pale blue light. No-one had ever said they missed him before. That someone like Sennett could miss him was extraordinary.

Silas nodded slowly, "I missed you every day," he said in his rasping voice.

"Are you happy at the Abbey?" Sennett asked, leaning her head against his chest again. He seemed to have relaxed his death grip a bit.

She could feel him hesitate and she frowned but her face was averted from him and he couldn't see her expression.

"I like working on the farm with the animals. I like my study. The brothers are very nice and helped me a lot. The villagers are nice too," he said evasively.

Sennett lifted her head and frowned up at him, "You don't seem very sure," she said anxiously.

Silas pressed his lips together as he struggled for words. Sennett thought (and not for the first time) what a nice mouth he had. It was full and firm and wide. Such a waste on a man she couldn't kiss, she thought with a small sigh to herself.

"I don't want to be a monk," he finally burst out and then pressed his mouth closed again.

Sennett stared at him in astonishment, her dark eyes wide. "You don't?" she said.

"I don't want to be told when to pray and what to pray. I don't like getting up at 2am to say sleepy prayers made meaningless by tiredness. I don't like all that regimentation. I want to see more of the world. I want to live in my own home amongst nice people like the villagers. I want to spend more time with the animals and less in draughty churches," Silas said - a remarkably long speech for him.

Sennett frankly stared at him. She had never imagined that Silas may want any other life than that of a monk. She knew Opus Dei numeraries and monks were quite different things but Silas had seemed to thrive on an ascetic life. She thought he'd make a perfect monastic candidate. Now he was saying he wanted a normal life with the choices and options and freedoms of a regular person.

Slowly, a smile curved the corners of Sennett's mouth. Here was a new Silas before her - a freer, confident, secure Silas who had more trust in the world and in people than previously; a Silas who knew what he wanted rather than allowing circumstances and authority figures to kick him around or tell him what to desire.

Here, finally, was the happy and well-adjusted Silas she had wanted. She knew he still probably had a long way to go but he was well on his way. At least he knew what he wanted now and could make decisions which was a great step forward.

"What are your plans, Silas?" she asked, leaning back a little in his embrace to see his face more clearly.

Silas had no clearly thought out plans before this moment but suddenly it all became clear.

"I want to finish my animal husbandry apprenticeship but on a regular farm, not the Abbey farm. There is a large farming district in Central Switzerland. It is safer for me there," he admitted, "I'd like to keep studying by correspondence too. If I could finish my apprenticeship, I could settle in the village nearby if I didn't stay on the farm itself."

Sennett smiled dreamily as she listened. It sounded lovely. A life in the fresh mountain air looking after animals while still being able to study what you were interested in, being involved in village life too. She sighed. It was a life she couldn't have herself, regardless of how lovely it sounded. She still missed the French countryside she grew up in. She didn't like town life.

"It sounds wonderful, Silas," Sennett said almost wistfully, "I miss living out in the country. I miss wide open spaces and fresh air and peace and the slower pace."

"Why do you keep working at Oxford and living in London then?" Silas asked, confused.

"I suppose there is a certain prestige to working at Oxford but I must admit, its only useful to ambitious people who want to publish academic works – people like Langdon, for instance. Oxford is a centre that draws all the best academics in the world as well as having wonderful resources. It's a very stimulating environment. I couldn't find that in France. Living in London is just convenience," Sennett said.

Silas thought about this in silence. "It's made you sick, Sennett," he finally said quietly.

"It probably is all a bit much for my health," she admitted with sigh, "I've thought about working part-time for quite awhile now."

"You should be sitting down," he said, reluctantly letting her go, "You've been sick."

Sennett went and sat in an armchair while Silas went to make them some tea. When he came back, he sat on the end of the couch nearest to Sennett and looked at her earnestly.

"I'm going to look after you until you're stronger," he said firmly, "and then I want you to come to Switzerland with me."