We strive to honour God’s commandment to observe the Sabbath, but it is of little consequence to the people of Leiden. It is becoming increasingly difficult for us to impress upon our young ones the importance of observing Sunday as a day of rest. But try stopping your twenty-year-old son when his friends meet him at work and drag him off to the inn to get drunk and do heaven knows what other sinful things. There are women of low morals … A day’s wages are soon spent in such a den of iniquity! And if your son has grown tired of the heavy work in the shipyard or blacksmith’s, try forbidding him to join the navy or the army.
Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it.
And so, together, we have decided that it is time for us to move on. Pilgrims are we on the paths of righteousness. We know that America is a land of promise. It could be our promised land. We can bring the good news of our Lord and Saviour to the godless heathens who live there. They have been heading for eternal torture in hell since time immemorial, but now we will tell them that He died for them, for the remission of their sins. And we will finally be free there. No more looking over our shoulders, no more fear that the English will demand our extradition. We will be able to read what we want, preach what we want, and freely discuss what we want with each other. And at the same time, we will be able to save the pitch-black souls of the ignorant savages there who walk about in darkness!
We live in the year of our Lord 1620. The Twelve Years’ Truce that was agreed between the Netherlands and Spain in 1609 is coming to an end. There is already heavy fighting in Germany. (This was the start of the Thirty Years’ War – PvV.)
For most of us, returning to England is not an option. We have managed to preserve our Englishness here and have proudly held onto our own way of life, but we have no desire to go back.
And yet, something troubles me, especially when I read back over what I have written today. It is all true: our desire to practise our own faith, the fear that our group will disappear into the Leiden population, the concern for the souls of our children who are constantly exposed to and sullied by the wickedest sins and temptations that the Devil can contrive to divert them from the path that leads to Salvation. The poverty, the toil, the theological disputes that we find ourselves entangled in, but … This applies to all of us. We all find ourselves in the same plight.
And yet, John has chosen to stay here.
I will write it again.
John Robinson is to stay here.
John has gathered an inner circle around himself to which I sadly do not belong. They will also remain here. These people could afford to travel to America and even have enough money to take others with them.
It is difficult to understand why. Impossible, in fact. All the reasons I have mentioned for leaving here make perfect sense, and few would argue with them. If they make sense for the rest of us, then surely they must make sense for John and the people around him too – possibly even more so!
So what reason do they have for staying behind?
An obvious division has formed between those who are leaving and those who have decided to stay. The latter group also includes people who do not have enough money to emigrate now but may be able to make the journey in a year or two.
Although it pains me greatly, my family and I are among those who are unable to find the means to make the great crossing.
What concerns me is that there is a group of people who could easily pay for their crossing but still choose to stay, despite all the problems we have here.
Why do they not leave?
I am not privy to whatever has caused it, but I can see that the group has split in two. There is no crystal-clear dividing line that makes it clear to outsiders who belongs to which group. Nor are there two distinct factions who stand opposite each other or sit apart from each other during worship. It seems to be much more subtle than that. There is one group around Josh Nunn and another around William Brewster. However, the two groups do not appear to be firmly fixed, and I have been unable to discern who is on each ‘side’. William has often openly and vehemently expressed his revulsion for what he sees as an overly liberal interpretation of scripture. People who share this opinion have gravitated towards him. These are the people who are determined to leave Leiden and go to America. Those who have gravitated towards Josh Nunn – many of whom work in the building trade, stonemasons and so on – he that hath ears to hear, let him hear – have chosen to stay in Leiden. Josh has done well for himself and has his own private loge box at the theatre. The men at the core of his group meet there often and discuss things with each other during the intervals.
Josh has now taken a new boy under his wing. He seems to be starting anew with the same process as before: they withdraw together to speak in private. It is obvious that Josh does most of the talking – I see them sometimes, sitting together in our shared garden – and the boy nods as earnestly as his predecessor did ten years ago.
And here is the most astonishing thing of all: that – former? – apple of Josh’s eye, the young lad who is now a grown man in the prime of his life. The boy who spent the last ten or eleven years as Josh’s inseparable shadow. The boy upon whom Josh looked with fatherly pride, nodding in approval when he spoke in church – to the increasing vexation of the members of the other faction. That boy …
That boy is going to America.
Chapter 17
Peter had read the translated fragments that Piet van Vliet had sent him twice now.
He read them in a rush the first time, scanning them like someone quickly reading through a love letter to get the gist of it.
Then he read them a second time, calmly, carefully, forcing himself to take a moment now and then to make notes. It was exactly as Piet had told him: in broad terms, the fragments contained nothing very different from what they already knew. The flight from England, the brief stay in Amsterdam, the eleven years of poverty and religious quarrels in Leiden.
He wasn’t sure what to make of the business with the young boy who seemed to be under the protection of a character called Josh Nunn. He noticed that his first thoughts were of some sort of non-platonic relationship, but it was no doubt a sensibility peculiar to modern times that made him jump to such a conclusion.
Peter had never heard about disagreements or discord within the group before.
Might there have been other reasons, reasons that aren’t already widely known, that would explain why more than half the group eventually chose to stay behind in Leiden, he mused. And if so, what do they have to do with the group around Josh Nunn?
An email from Mark arrived. He had been approached by Detective Chief Inspector Rijsbergen who had asked him to visit him at the police station at three that afternoon. Apparently, Coen Zoutman had had an envelope full of biblical texts in his pocket on the night he was murdered. He hoped that Mark, being a professor, would be able to offer some insight into the case. ‘Two heads are better than one,’ Mark had written, ‘so I wanted to ask if you’d mind coming with me.’
Peter emailed him back to say that he would be happy to help.
He realised with a start that it was already a quarter to one. He turned on his phone to see if he had missed any messages. There was just one, from Judith, agreeing to meet for lunch.
It looked like Fay was as determined to keep up the radio silence as he was.
Irritated by it nevertheless, he rushed over to the Lipsius Building, as the LAK had been renamed years earlier.
Judith was rarely punctual, so he ended up waiting for her in the atrium for a while.
The hall was a hive of activity. The long couches and chairs were all occupied, and there were students everywhere, many of them eating and working at their laptops.
Eventually, Judith arrived, and as she walked towards him, the soft rays of midday light that fell through the high windows
illuminated her long, black hair that was gathered messily in a large hair clip. She was wearing a blouse that, from a distance, looked like a batik print, with a denim jacket, a flowing flower-print skirt and knee-high black leather boots.
Her face lit up when she saw him. She kissed him, as she always did, lightly on the cheek.
He breathed in the smell of her hair and closed his eyes for a moment.
‘You okay?’ she asked. She was smiling, but her tone was serious.
‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘I’m fine. It’s just been crazy lately.’
‘I know, honey. It’s all so much.’
After they had each put together a lunch at the various food stations in the canteen, they took their trays into the dining area. Almost every table was occupied, but they spotted two people leaving seats by the windows that looked out onto the Witte Singel, the old city moat.
‘How are you both doing?’ Judith asked. ‘You must be really shaken by it all.’
‘Yes, we are. It was awful … That poor man. And it’s even worse for Fay. She knew him so well, much better than I did, of course. This has obviously all had a much bigger impact on her.’
‘Oh, poor Fay,’ Judith said. ‘It’s good that you have each other, though.’
I’m not so sure about that, Peter thought.
‘Do they know anything more about the murder yet?’ Judith asked.
‘Not really, no. I don’t get the impression that they’re making much progress.’
He told Judith about the conversation that he and Fay had had with the police the day before and what the current situation was.
‘I’m going to the station with Mark this afternoon,’ Peter said. ‘They want us to look at some texts that Coen Zoutman had in his pocket when he was murdered. Biblical texts. That’s why they’ve asked Mark.’
He took a couple of spoonfuls of soup. ‘How about you? All ready to leave on Sunday?’
Judith had been given a grant to spend three months doing research at Harvard University.
‘Just about. There are a few loose ends to tie up here and there, things I need to finish before I go. I made a list this morning and got a bit of a fright when I saw how long it was. Calls to make, papers to mark, appointments with students before I leave so they can get on with their dissertations while I’m away. Everything I’ll be taking with me is laid out ready to be packed at home. I just need to sort out some books to take, although I expect I’ll be so busy there that I won’t have much time to read them. The time will fly by, but I’ll miss everyone. I’ll miss you.’
Peter smiled. ‘Time always seems to pass more slowly for the people left behind. The person who goes away is usually so busy processing all the new experiences they’re having that it flies by.’
‘That’s true,’ she said. ‘And Mark will be coming over halfway through, so that will split the time up nicely. But my invitation still stands, you know. I’d love you to come and visit me there – or you and Fay together.’
Peter wondered if he should tell Judith about what had happened between him and Fay, about the emails to Coen Zoutman that she’d not told him about and the angry texts that morning.
‘Actually …’ he began, but then decided not to finish the sentence.
I’m not going to bother Judith with our relationship problems, he thought.
Instead, he spent far longer than was necessary blowing on the soup on his spoon before he ate it.
Why shouldn’t I go? A break might be just what I need.
He could feel Judith watching him, but he concentrated on his soup.
Maybe it would be a good idea to get away from everything for a while. See new things, enjoy new experiences …
He put down his spoon and looked at Judith. She was staring at him, just as he’d suspected. ‘I’ll do it!’ he said. ‘Why not do something crazy for once?’
The smile on Judith’s face could hardly have been wider. ‘Do you really mean it?’ she asked. Her cheeks flushed pink.
‘Yes, I really mean it.’
She stood up and leaned across the table. Peter tried to stand up, but there wasn’t enough room behind him to move his chair back properly and he got awkwardly stuck halfway.
Judith put her hand on the back of his head and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I’m so glad,’ she said. She was still beaming at him after they had both sat down again.
‘You know,’ Peter said, ‘in three weeks, I’ll be finished with lectures. And I haven’t any other obligations to keep me here. I’ve got a few things that I still need to do. There are two articles that I ought to finish writing, but I don’t need to be sitting at my desk here to do them.’
Judith nodded slowly, as though she couldn’t quite believe it. ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘I’ve been keeping it to myself but, secretly, I’m really dreading being away for three months. I’ve never been away from home on my own for so long before. Mark is coming after six weeks. Maybe you could come before then? Then I’ll only be on my own for two or three weeks. I’d really like it if you could, Peter.’
‘All right, Judith,’ Peter said. ‘It feels a bit impulsive, but it feels like a good decision too.’
‘And Fay?’
‘Oh, Fay will be fine. She’s got a busy summer ahead of her. She’ll be in the final stages of writing the book she’s been working on. She’ll probably be thrilled that she can completely devote herself to that without having to worry about me. Just the book, Agapé and her mother. I should think Fay will be quite happy.’
The prospect of spending two or three weeks in the United States, somewhere he’d only been twice before, was suddenly very appealing. ‘I’ll have to be quick if I want to book a flight and a hotel.’
‘You won’t need a hotel, silly. Harvard is giving me an apartment. I’ve seen the photos. It’s quite big. There’s a sofa bed in the living room, so it’s been set up to accommodate more people than just the visiting researcher.’
‘Won’t Mark mind?’
‘Mind? Why?’ She looked genuinely surprised. ‘Oh! No, of course not,’ she said when she realised what Peter meant. ‘Don’t be silly. Mark’s the least jealous person in the world – I don’t think he even knows what jealousy is – and in your case, there’s no reason for him to be jealous at all. Or do you think that Fay will mind?’
‘No, I think that Fay will feel the same.’
‘Well, then. That’s perfect, isn’t it? And I’m not assuming that you’ll want to spend the whole time in Boston. You’re welcome to, obviously, but you’ll want to see other things too, I expect. New York isn’t too far away. Oh, it’s going to be great!’
Peter decided he would book a flight to Boston right after lunch.
I’m sure Fay will be less than pleased at first, but it might do us good to take a break from each other.
Judith and Peter ate the rest of their meal in companionable silence.
They looked at each other fleetingly from time to time – anyone watching them might have thought they were a couple still caught up in the giddy first days of a romance.
When they had finished eating, Peter bought them a cup of coffee each so that he could make their time together last a little longer.
‘Have you heard any more about the paint on the Sionshof wall?’
‘No,’ said Judith. ‘I hope they can tell us something soon. That stunt was too stupid for words, but I’ll still be glad if the police find whoever did it.’
‘If only they knew that, as a member of Een Ander Joods Geluid, you’d probably actually agree with them.’
‘Yes, indeed, I would. Not with the “death to …” part, naturally. But I would gladly talk to them if the police ever find them. It feels like everyone’s completely lost the ability to be rational about the conflict, it really does. There’s an attitude developing in Israel that says, “There’s only room for us Jews here.” All those colonists in the illegal settlements … It’s just awful. And that Israeli soldier who shot a Palestinian detainee in the head,
they’ve just given him an appallingly short sentence. The poor boy was already lying on the ground, wounded. He was defenceless.’
‘Yes, I saw the video of that. But Een Ander Joods Geluid is trying to make people aware of this other side of the story, aren’t they?’
‘Yes. But I’m afraid that we’re increasingly just a “voice crying out in the desert”. Literally in the desert in this case.’
They had both finished their coffee now, and they got up from the table. They cleared their trays away, then said goodbye in the atrium.
‘I’m planning to work in the café in the Pieterskerk for a bit tomorrow,’ Peter said. ‘So if you fancy a decent cup of coffee … And if you have time, of course.’
He wanted to have Judith to himself again, but somewhere quieter than here where they were surrounded by hundreds of people.
‘I’d love to,’ she said, smiling. ‘And I’ll always make time for you.’ She hugged him, keeping her arms wrapped around him for a moment longer than usual.
Peter buried his face in her hair again and pressed a kiss onto the top of her head.
‘I’m so glad you’re going to come to America,’ she said. ‘You will really come, won’t you? I’ll be disappointed now if you change your mind.’
‘No, no, I’m really coming. I promise,’ he said.
As soon as he got back to his office, he booked a flight to Boston and paid for it with his credit card. He forwarded the booking confirmation to Judith’s email address.
‘I keep my promises …’ he typed with a growing feeling of excitement.
The handful of appointments that were in his diary for the weeks he would be in Boston could be dealt with via email or Skype. Just one meeting would have to be brought forward – or even postponed. No doubt most of his students would be delighted that they’d all be getting extensions on their dissertation deadlines.
Although it wasn’t absolutely necessary – outside of term time he could do with his time as he pleased to a large extent – he sent an email to the heads of the History and Archaeology departments and their administrators.
The Pilgrim Conspiracy Page 17
