by Rebecca Wait
They were back on the rough track now, and she was able to walk more easily without watching her step. As the houses came back into view, the dark outline of the forest rising up behind them, she said, ‘Does anyone else ever come this way?’
‘Outsiders?’ he said. ‘No, it’s private property. We see the odd walker from time to time, but they mostly don’t make it this far.’
‘It’s lovely and remote,’ Stephanie said. She remembered again the drive up here on her first visit, the way the mist had seemed to bleach the colour out of everything, giving the scene a mythic feel.
Before they went back inside, he said, ‘One more thing. It might be best if you avoid mentioning any uncertainties about what we mean by God in front of the others. Don’t worry if you feel you don’t quite see things the way they do. Just trust me, OK?’
She nodded. ‘Always.’
He led her into the smaller of the two houses and up the stairs to their room.
Afterwards, he said, ‘There may come a time when you think of me as having saved you.’
‘I already think that.’
‘Oh, my love,’ he said, touching her face. ‘That’s what I’m trying to say. I don’t want you to think like that. The truth is, you’ve saved me. I didn’t know I could love someone as much as I love you. I don’t think I could manage without you now.’
‘You won’t ever have to,’ she said.
It had been surprisingly easy in the end, unravelling her life. There weren’t really any friends she needed to tell. No one close enough to care much. Stephanie wasn’t quite sure how this had happened – she’d been popular once. But in any case, it hardly mattered now.
Her mother, too, had been easy to deal with. Stephanie had written her a letter, with Nathaniel’s help, explaining that she and Judith were moving away to get a fresh start; and since their relationship had been difficult in recent years, Stephanie wrote, it would be best to make a clean break.
Her possessions were quickly disposed of. Some things she had given to charity shops, but other things Nathaniel had managed to sell – the TV, Judith’s Game Boy, the antique oak dresser that had belonged to her grandmother. She was grateful to be able to make this small financial contribution since, as Nathaniel gently pointed out, he would be providing for her from now on. He had already made it clear that he didn’t want her to carry on at the cafe, and she secretly agreed with him that it was beneath her.
‘But the money won’t last for long,’ she said. ‘I could try to find a proper job. Something more worthwhile.’
He reached out to touch her cheek. They were in bed, as they always seemed to be. One of the last evenings they spent in her flat. ‘There’s no need. I’ve said I’ll take care of you. This is how it works, with our little group. We’re a family, so we look after each another. If there’s enough money, why should people work for the sake of it, when it doesn’t make them happy? What’s the point?’
It was strange, the idea that she wouldn’t need to worry about money any more: that familiar grind of anxiety, the agonizing in the supermarket over what could be afforded, eyes always trained for the red flash of a special offer, all those coupons carefully saved – suddenly she was delivered from it all.
‘But what will I give in return?’ she said.
‘You’ll make me incredibly happy,’ he said. ‘Providing a roof over your head and food for you to eat seems a small price to pay in return.’ He laughed. ‘Especially as the food, I expect, will mostly be cooked by you. You’ve seen me in the kitchen.’
She grinned. ‘I haven’t forgotten the boiled egg.’ This had been Nathaniel’s single foray into the kitchen since they’d been together. He’d insisted on making her breakfast in bed after one of their nights together. She’d been amazed at the egg: it was as tough and rubbery as a bouncy ball.
‘I didn’t even know this could happen,’ she’d said, pressing it between her fingers in fascination. ‘How long did you give it?’
‘Not sure,’ he said vaguely. ‘Maybe around twenty minutes. I didn’t realize it was an exact science.’
She’d begun to laugh, but then, seeing his face, stopped herself. ‘Let me cook us breakfast,’ she said. ‘I love cooking for you.’ He’d laughed as well then, and allowed her to get up and go to the kitchen.
Her first task was preparing supper with the other women that evening. She met Rachael, Deborah and Esther in the kitchen; only Ruth was absent, having a meeting with Nathaniel in the prayer room. Stephanie was nervous to begin with, but it was difficult not to relax when Deborah and Rachael were so warm and friendly, chatting brightly to her about their daily routines and the weather on the moors as they chopped vegetables.
Esther, however, seated herself in the corner and barely spoke. Stephanie wondered if she was shy, or if she was always like this. Esther seemed a bit of an anomaly, about ten years younger than the other women, probably no older than Stephanie herself. Very pretty, too, with an unusual combination of blonde hair and dark eyes that Stephanie envied.
When she’d finished peeling and slicing the carrots, Stephanie tried to endear herself to Esther by asking if she wanted any help with the onions. But Esther simply murmured ‘No, thanks,’ without looking up from her chopping board.
‘I’d love some help with these peppers, Stephanie,’ Rachael said, at the same time as Deborah said, ‘Do you think you might help me score the meat?’
Stephanie was startled, but Rachael and Deborah looked at each other and laughed.
‘You see how in demand you are,’ Rachael said as Stephanie went over to help chop the peppers.
She was relieved by the distraction provided when Judith came in, trailed by the boy called Moses with the birthmark staining half his face. He hovered in the doorway as Judith came forward.
Judith was scowling, but had clearly decided that ignoring her mum wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She said, ‘What are you doing?’
‘Making supper, love,’ Stephanie said. ‘Do you want to help?’
Judith paused a moment. ‘Alright.’
But Rachael said to Moses, ‘Sweetheart, you know you’re not supposed to be in here whilst we’re cooking. Why don’t you show Judith your books?’
‘I don’t want to see his books,’ Judith said. ‘We’re not friends. He keeps following me.’
‘We’re not friends yet,’ Moses said, prompting Judith to sigh with impatience.
‘I want to stay with you, Mum,’ she said, and Stephanie saw that underneath the sulkiness she was close to tears.
‘Can’t she stay with us just this once?’ she said to Rachael. ‘The move’s been a bit of a shock for her.’
Rachael looked at Deborah. ‘But Ruth—’ she began, and Stephanie began to see that Judith would have to be sent out of the room. She felt like crying herself.
But then Esther spoke, addressing Judith. ‘If you stay in the kitchen, Judith, will you be very good and do as we say?’
Looking resigned, Judith nodded.
Esther turned to Rachael and Deborah. ‘Let her stay just this once. It’s not easy when you first arrive.’ She smiled for the first time. ‘Remember what I was like?’
Rachael and Deborah seemed to consider for a moment. Then Rachael said to Moses, ‘But you don’t have the same excuse, darling. You’re not new, are you? So be a good boy and run along and find Peter. See if he’ll play cards with you.’
‘He won’t,’ Moses said over his shoulder as he left, but he spoke without resentment.
Judith sat down on the workbench beside her mother. Stephanie wanted to give Esther a grateful smile, but Esther was looking down at her chopping board again. Stephanie slipped her arm round Judith, squeezing her tightly for a few moments. Usually, Judith would have resisted, but now she leaned into the embrace, burying her head in her mother’s shoulder.
‘Hey there,’ Stephanie murmured. ‘Hey. This isn’t like you. It’s alright, love.’ She was talking to her softly, soothingly, as she hadn’t since Jud
ith was little. She felt her daughter’s tears on her neck. ‘Come on, Judith. Everything’s fine.’
Judith got herself quickly under control, wiped her arm once across her face, and then sat in an uncharacteristically docile manner amongst the women as they continued to get the meal ready.
After dinner and the evening prayer meeting, Stephanie made a point of going upstairs to check on Judith as the girls got ready for bed, ignoring Nathaniel’s disapproving look. She found her daughter showing Mary and Abigail how to do a handstand against the wall of their bedroom, and was relieved to see them all on friendlier terms.
She was afraid Nathaniel would reproach her again for ‘fussing’, but when she returned to the smaller of the two houses and joined him in their bedroom, he held out his arms to her. ‘Seeing what a wonderful mother you are only makes me love you more,’ he said.
As she fell asleep, she thought that perhaps there was some truth in what he said; perhaps she wasn’t as bad a mother as she’d always thought. Although it was obviously going to take some time for Judith to adjust to living here, wouldn’t she have a far better life overall? She would be safe and happy and fulfilled, just as Nathaniel promised, just as Stephanie herself already felt. Judith would be able to become the best version of herself. In Shipdale they’d only ever had each other, but here they would be part of a large, loving family, and Stephanie wouldn’t be tired all the time, wouldn’t be irritable, would always be patient and cheerful with her daughter. She hoped that Judith would be able to understand all this one day.
4
Moses breathed out a big gust of relief when the naming ceremony was announced, because this meant Judith and her mother would definitely be staying.
As the followers knelt together in the prayer room, the prophet revealed that the God-given name of Judith’s mother was Sarah.
‘Sarah, an obedient and virtuous woman,’ the prophet said, placing his hand on her head. ‘You are reborn.’
Moses almost wriggled with excitement as he waited to hear what Judith’s God-given name would be. But when the prophet asked if she was ready to hear it, Judith said no.
Moses felt the room go still. A cold shudder in his chest; the feeling he got when he knew someone was going to have a session.
Judith’s mother began to say, ‘Judith, it’s just a special—’ but the prophet held up his hand and she fell silent.
When the prophet spoke again, his voice was soft. Moses knew this was the most dangerous voice of all. The prophet said, ‘Do you refuse what God offers?’
‘I have a name,’ Judith said. ‘It’s Judith.’
The prophet’s eyes closed and his mouth moved, so Moses knew he was praying. He could feel Peter standing rigidly beside him and wanted to look at him, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the prophet.
Then the prophet’s shoulders relaxed and he opened his eyes. He said, ‘I thank God for His gift of patience. He’s reminded me that shaking off the narrowness of Gehenna is no easy matter.’ He smiled at them then, that gentle smile that Moses liked best. ‘I’m going to pause things for now, and pray. We need to ask for God’s help on this, OK? Sometimes He sends us a challenge, but there’s always a reason for it.’
Moses delighted in the prophet’s mercy, and the new warmth in his voice. At times like this he felt he didn’t love anyone more, not even his own mother. As the adults began to drift away to go about their work tasks and the children went off to play, Moses saw Judith’s mother, who was now called Sarah, go over to Judith and try to hug her. Judith pulled away. The prophet came over and said something and placed his hand on Judith’s head, then he and Sarah went out of the room together. Moses heard their footsteps on the stairs overhead.
He looked at Judith. She was staring at the floor, her lips pressed tightly together. He thought he recognized the expression; it was what he did when he was trying not to cry. Even Mary and Abigail hadn’t waited behind for her.
He asked God to make him brave.
He said, ‘Hello, Judith.’
She didn’t look at him. She said to the floor, ‘Just as soon as they know where I am, social services will be round here. They’ll be round here quick as a flash.’
Moses waited to see if she wanted to say more. When she didn’t, he said, ‘I like the name Judith.’
She looked up at him quickly, as if checking he was serious. After a moment, she said, ‘I like it too.’
‘It’s a good one,’ Moses said.
‘Did you ever have a different name?’
Moses shook his head. ‘I was born in the Ark, so I’ve always had the right name.’
‘You’ve always lived here? Really?’
‘Yes,’ Moses said. ‘Really.’
Judith absorbed this in silence. After a moment, she said moodily, ‘I’m not having a different name.’
‘But it’s a nice thing,’ Moses said, ‘to be given a special name from God. It shows He’s chosen you, like He chose all of us.’
‘I don’t believe in God,’ Judith said.
Moses was so astonished he couldn’t speak for a few moments. Then he said weakly, ‘There’s no such thing as not believing in God.’ When she didn’t reply, he pushed for reassurance. ‘You do really.’
‘I don’t.’
‘You must do,’ Moses said, common sense reasserting itself. ‘You wouldn’t be alive if God hadn’t made you. The moors wouldn’t be here. Nothing would be here. The world would be empty.’ Feeling slightly dizzy, he pursued this thought to its logical end. ‘There would be no world at all.’
‘Yeah, there would,’ Judith said. ‘Science did it.’
‘What do you mean?’ The only lessons they had in the schoolroom were Arithmetic, Reading and Writing, and History, but Moses knew what Science was. It was what people called the way God had put their bodies together, and the way God had put the land and the sea and the sky together. It was the way God made everything work. Now he could see Judith’s mistake.
‘God made Science,’ he said. ‘Science doesn’t exist without God.’
‘Oh yeah? Prove it.’
This was a bizarre demand, and Moses looked at his new friend in increasing bewilderment. He could see she was on very dangerous ground, however many allowances the prophet said they must make for her. He wasn’t sure how to help her, since she seemed unmoved by warnings about the devil. ‘Heaven is high,’ he said. ‘We mustn’t look into God’s affairs.’
Judith shrugged and walked away from him and he saw that somehow, once again, he’d lost her.
Moses worried for the rest of the day about the problem of Judith’s name, but when the prophet called them to a special meeting the next morning, he said that God had resolved the matter for them. Judith, it turned out, already had her true, God-given name. She had been living under it all along, as a sign that she and her mother were always destined for the Ark. It was further evidence, the prophet said, of the neatness of God’s plan.
Moses was vastly relieved, and delighted with God. But he could see the others hadn’t forgotten Judith’s rebellion. Once again, Mary and Abigail didn’t wait for her after the meeting, and nor did any of the other children. Judith’s mother went over and touched Judith’s shoulder, but then she followed the prophet out of the room.
Moses watched as Judith wandered outside on her own. He made himself wait a few moments before going after her.
She had walked a little way onto the moors. ‘Hello,’ he said as he approached.
She looked at him warily, but didn’t seem as angry as before. She had tears on her face, though she wasn’t crying properly.
Moses searched for a way to comfort her. ‘Do you know the story of Judith?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Judith the slayer. It’s a story from God. We learned it in the schoolroom when we were little.’ Seeing that she was actually listening to him, he continued. ‘Judith was a Jew, who were a good people once and now are full of sin like everyone else in Gehenna. Th
e Jews were attacked by a wicked army, and Judith wanted to protect her people. She went and made friends with the general of the wicked army, and when he fell asleep in his tent – ’ he paused, glad to have got her attention properly – ‘she got a huge knife—’
‘Did she stab him?’ Judith said.
‘Not quite.’
‘Gouge out his eyes?’
‘No. She cut off his head. And the blood of God’s enemy went everywhere.’
‘Cool,’ Judith said.
‘And then she carried the head back to her friends and they all celebrated.’ Seeing that she was still listening, he capitalized on his advantage. ‘Would you like to see the forest now? It’s dark and scary. The other children are too scared to go in by themselves, even Peter. But I’m not, even though I’m nearly two years younger than him. He’s the oldest, and Jonathan’s the second oldest, and they’re both scared.’
‘How old are you?’ Judith said.
‘Twelve.’
‘You’re twelve?’ she said. ‘You seem younger. You seem like a baby.’
‘I’m not,’ Moses explained. ‘I’m twelve.’
‘And you’re weird.’
He thought he was beginning to understand how people talked to each other in Gehenna. ‘Your hair’s weird,’ he said, to make her feel at home, and gave her his best smile. ‘But I also like your hair,’ he added, because it was true. ‘Shall I show you the forest?’
He expected her to tell him to shut up again, but suddenly she shrugged her shoulders: a big, loose shrug. Moses wanted to copy it immediately.
‘Alright,’ she said.
5
‘I just want her to be happy,’ Stephanie said to Rachael and Esther as they cleaned the kitchen a couple of days after the naming ceremony. ‘But she’s so angry with me at the moment.’
‘I wouldn’t worry,’ Rachael said. ‘Children are very adaptable, aren’t they? Before long, she won’t remember things were ever different.’
