Aelred's Sin (25 page)

Then I wake from a dream of a ship sinking in the sea, from a storm and a ship crashing on the rocks. I hear the gentleman like that gentleman in Virginia talking to Master Walter. I peep through a hole in the stable and I see into a room hang with saddles and stirrups and reins, and this same gentleman is showing Master Walter his contraptions, which he is taking out of a trunk mark
Bristol. These are his contraptions from Kentucky, which he is saying Master Walter needs to use on the young breed that he buy. He show him the muzzle, then he show him the mask and last of all he bring out that thing they call the bit, and he explain to Master Walter how to use it. And how confounding good it is to keep that breed in control if he wants to get his money worth, for they are natural lazy, natural indolent, and wish all the time to run away.

Miss Amy say, tucking her sick father into his chair by the fire, some of you darkie lads must be scoundrels, I suppose. You better watch for the young Master Walter. There is no knowing what young Master Walter might do when he flies into a fury, Miss Amy say, going out to fill the kettle at the pump in the yard. I can tell you some tales myself, my lad. That is what Miss Amy of Somerset say that evening when she go out into the yard where the swallows still darting and swooping, clicking and whistling. They’ve come back home, Miss Amy say, looking up into warm May evening. I swear them is the very same birds that was here last year, Miss Amy say with authority in her voice.

Swallows persisted with their darting and making a swooping arc above the cemetery, in and out from under the far eave of the chapel into the ash trees and back again, building a home in England while Aelred struggled with his translations.

The bell for None brought Aelred back to the same Ashton Park. He made his way quickly from the cemetery to the novitiate to put down his books. The novices were shuffling from siesta along the corridor to choir. Aelred
went via the library and the oak staircase. He had this fancy to check the portrait of the boy he called Jordan. Then he went to his position as acolyte of the choir near the holy water font. Aelred dipped his fingers into the holy water font and offered them to Benedict as he entered the choir. Benedict’s face was blank. He could not read any explanations for the questions he had crowding his mind. Last of all in the procession was Edward. Edward’s eyes met his for a second, then were lowered again as he entered the choir. The celebrant for the week intoned: ‘
Deus
in
adutorium
meum
intende
.’ The community responded:
‘Domine
aduvandum
me festina
…’ ‘Lord, make haste to help me.’
Festina
!
Quickly.

The two novices, Aelred and Edward, were put to work at haymaking that afternoon. Aelred had wished to have Benedict near him, because, whatever the new rules Father Abbot and Father Justin were making for their relationship, he had to speak at least one more time. Aelred delayed his departure to the fields and lingered in the basement where the monks changed from their house shoes into their work boots. At first, the basement was busy with monks coming and going. Aelred pretended that his laces were in a knot and sat fiddling with them.

The last to leave was Edward. ‘I’ll see you in the fields,’ he said.

‘Yes. I won’t be long.’

‘We must get those climbing boots.’ Edward lingered by the door out into the courtyard.

‘Yes, maybe.’ Aelred did not look up.

As Edward closed the door behind him, Aelred caught
a snatch of the tune he had heard that morning in the pantry. Edward was whistling it as he closed the door. The words came to him: ‘Love, love me do. You know I love you.’ When Aelred looked up Edward had left.

The basement was dark and cool and smelt of dirty socks and sweaty boots. A tap dripped into the basin in the corner. Where was Benedict?

Brother Theodore came down to the basement and changed into his boots. He smiled at Aelred. ‘Any new wild flowers, brother?’

Aelred looked up, pretending hard to be working on his knot. ‘There’s campion and speedwell in the hedgerows. I’ve got those.’

‘Yes, pink and blue. The speedwell runs under the white daisies and cow parsley. A river of blue. I checked with Father Christopher about the tropical plants book. He says it’s ordered. What’s it like in your country now?’

‘Rainy.’ Aelred thought for a moment, as if he doubted himself, and then said again, ‘Yes, it’s rainy season.’

‘Rainy. Well, we’ve got a lot of that stuff here. But we’re having quite a dry spell. We need it after that winter. Well, I’ll be off. And you keep your chin up, brother. You look a little glum this afternoon. Make hay while the sun shines.’ Brother Theodore chuckled as he fumbled with the door knob.

‘I’m fine,’ Aelred said, looking up and trying to smile. Brother Theodore’s remark brought a lump to his throat and tears into his eyes. When he was on his own again he found the tears pouring down his cheeks. He would call it homesickness - it was that kind of loss; but it was also all that had taken place, and most of all, it was that he was frustrated that he could not talk to Benedict. What was
happening? This was not how he had imagined monastic life. He thought of Ted and what he felt at his funeral. It was his face which was not his. Then there was that smell of frangipani and asparagus fern. Ted’s head was on a white satin pillow.

He forgot that he was pretending to be untying a knot in the laces of his boot. He was staring at a stream of light coming through a crack in the door, which Brother Theodore had left open. It was filled with myriad specks of dust, floating aimlessly. He remembered staring through a microscope in chemistry class, back at Mount Saint Maur, at bacteria in a glass dish. A whole life he did not understand, formed and reformed. To the naked eye it was a smudge on the glass. This was why he was here: to sort out these mysteries. He sat absorbed, right there, on the old bench in the basement. It was a prayer, not a prayer, but
prayer,
he thought.

‘You’re still here.’ It was Benedict appearing quietly and suddenly. He was wearing his slippers.

‘Oh, I didn’t hear you. It’s this knot.’ Aelred kept his head down, almost believing that there was a knot to untie.

‘Let me see.’ Benedict’s voice, his care, made Aelred cry again.

‘No, it’s nothing.’ Aelred looked up.

‘What? You’re crying? What’s the matter? Let me look at it.’

‘Nothing’s the matter. There’s no knot. I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve got to speak to you.’ Aelred was sobbing now.

‘Hush. Someone may still come down, though I think most people have gone out to the fields already. We must
take care.’

‘So, you’ve been told?’

‘Yes, this morning.’

‘I know. I saw you going into the Abbot’s room then Father Justin coming out. I saw the Abbot this morning. What’s happening? What do they know?’

Benedict could not resist wiping the tears away with his fingers. ‘Try and stop crying and then we can talk for a little while as I get my boots on. I’m late. We mustn’t walk down to the fields alone.’

‘Are we going to have to live like this all the time?’

‘We must show that there isn’t a special attachment between us. That’s what both Father Abbot and Father Justin are most concerned about, that we don’t show to others that there’s a special attraction between us. It’s as if they’ve accepted that there is. They would prefer that there wasn’t, but they realise that there is.’

‘And they think it must stop.’

‘We must be very particular. Our being together is going to be interpreted as being inappropriate, whatever our behaviour is like. So at least for a while we must stay apart.’

‘This is so hard. I don’t know whether I’ll be able to do this.’

‘You must. You must think of me. You must think of your vocation.’

‘What exactly do they know about us?’

‘I’m not sure. Father Justin may have heard more than we thought in the library. He may have been noticing us and wondering for some time. But coupled with this is the reading of Aelred of Rievaulx. That has alerted them to the quality of our relationship. I’ve not told them
anything that we’ve done, anything that is rightly a matter for confession.’

‘I’ll have to talk to Basil. Only he will understand.’

‘I understand.’

‘Yes, but how will you help me now?’

‘I’m sorry. You must realise this is a great fear for superiors. It isn’t simple, what we’ve embarked on. Aelred of Rievaulx recognises these feelings, but he does insist that they become spiritual.’

‘He allows for holding hands.’

‘Yes, but we’ve done more than hold hands. We’ve kissed. He expressly speaks against the carnal kiss.’

‘Carnal - it sounds terrible.’

‘Come on, brother. I don’t think Father Justin will be allowing holding hands at recreation. We won’t see Father Abbot walking hand in hand with Brother Theodore or whoever. It’s not like that. You know that. It won’t happen. We mustn’t be naïve.’ Aelred began to see the funny side and he and Benedict began laughing and imagining possible couples among the community.

‘A farewell kiss?’ Aelred leant over and turned Benedict’s face to his and rested his lips gently on his.

Benedict smiled. ‘
Au
revoir.
Look at me when you need encouragement. We can hold it in our eyes. But be careful. It’s going to be harder than you imagine. We must go.’

Benedict left first and Aelred followed a short while later. Near the bed with with the yellow roses Aelred saw Father Justin weeding. He felt policed. He felt guilty.

Aelred was working on his own, solitary against the hillside. His confusion drew him into himself. But he had
spotted Edward lower down the field. He had been concerned earlier, because he had not seen him at all. He knew that they had both been put down for haymaking duty. He wondered what had happened to him. It might take him out of himself, and his thoughts about Benedict and their problem with Father Justin and Father Abbot, if he worked with Edward and talked about learning to rock climb. He had no intention of rock climbing, but it might be distracting just to talk about it. Maybe this was a way to get to know Edward. Things might run more smoothly between them. The secret of Benedict and himself was becoming an obsession. It seemed to grow louder and louder in his mind, so that he thought all the community must know something about it. Maybe all sorts of little things had been noticed and interpreted. He felt guilty as he went along, dragging the heavy bales and waiting for the tractor to come and collect them.

The monks elsewhere in the fields eventually broke from their haymaking to collect around the tractor to have tea, which Brother Crispin had brought out in a small urn on the back of the tractor with some of Brother Edwin’s fruit cake as a treat for their hard work. There was fresh milk from the dairy after the first milking.

Benedict was among them. Aelred worked out that he had been detailed to work in the barn, making room for the new hay. That would mean that they might not be able to talk to each other again this afternoon. But he might, in the new natural way they must now be careful about, while mixing with their other brothers, catch a moment to speak.

Such a moment came when Benedict was passing the cake around. ‘I wanted to say that I think you should try
and meet up with Edward. He’s been talking to me about you and he wants to mend fences. He thinks there’s tension between you about silly things. Maybe some big things too, like changes in the church? Anyway, try and mix with him. It’s difficult being the new novice, as you ‘ll remember.’

Aelred had a lot of questions in his head but he decided to just go along with Benedict’s suggestion. They were interrupted by Brother Crispin who was collecting up the mugs. ‘We’ve got a lot of hay to be bringing in, brothers.’

As Benedict turned away to go back down to the barn in the farmyard, he said, ‘I must just have a quick word before we turn in this evening. I’ll be down at the barn. Try and come that way.’

‘Yes.’ Aelred tried to smile, to look normal about their communication. Yet it all seemed so furtive, so self-conscious.

Edward had been the last to join the group having tea. He had hung back from the others, who had been chatting about the hot weather and the quality of the hay. Now the good news was that they might have to stay out longer, past the time for Vespers, because rain was expected the next day: they could not risk the new hay being soaked. This meant that they would work late into the evening, beyond Compline. Aelred was pleased by this. He felt that it would be stressful having to be back with the novitiate and the normal routines of the day. It would be a kind of holiday, a
dies
non,
staying out late.

The bell for Vespers had been rung a long time ago. Now the community must be at supper. Aelred was
exhausted with pushing himself. Then out of the haze which now hung over the fields, Brother Crispin arrived on the tractor to take him out of his exhaustion and daze. Riding at the back of the tractor was Edward. They had come to collect him to go down to the farm to work in the barn. Aelred kept his eyes averted. Yes, he should talk to Edward, as Benedict suggested, he thought. But now he felt more at peace within himself and he didn’t want to disturb that.

At first Aelred thought that now he would be able to see Benedict, as he had suggested, before they turned in. But as they approached the farm, he saw Benedict walking up the hill to the abbey between the lime trees. He realised that he and Edward were relieving the monks who had been working all afternoon at the farm. They, he and Edward, were to take the last shift before darkness came and the last bales of hay were brought in before the rain. He suddenly realised that he would not be able to talk to Benedict. As soon as the tractor stopped, without thinking, he jumped off and literally ran up through the avenue of lime trees, calling, ‘Benedict, Benedict.’ He realised what it must have looked like to Brother Crispin and Edward, but he continued. Benedict stopped and looked around. Aelred was out of breath. ‘You said you wanted a quick word. And I’m to stay down in the barn.’