The Anagram

by Russell French

  “I do not feel within me that he is deceased—not yet, anyway. He is badly wounded, mentally and physically, of that there is no doubt. The picture provided a far greater shock than he could ever have imagined. He genuinely thought that we did not and could not possess a likeness of him, and yet… .”

  “I have to ask, Theeth,” said Beth. “That message in the book Seth brought back from Paris, everything hinged on it. Where did it come from? How did it get there?”

  “I wish I could answer you, my dear. Greater minds than ours are at play here. Seth knew somehow that the book was important, although I don’t think he expected to find the message in it. That’s why he went to such great lengths to get it. For him to go travelling in his later years was unheard of. Even then, once we had found that tattered scrap of paper, there was no guarantee that you would understand the contents of the message or act successfully upon them. Let us just be thankful that you did—the consequences otherwise would have been dire in the extreme. Gilbert’s picture has no more use now, unfortunately. Once it has been used in the way it was, it loses its power. I would advise you to keep it as a memento, however. It may inspire you to great deeds in the future.” The old gnome leader coughed and wheezed merrily for a moment or two before resuming huskily.

  “Our enemy will be kept well-hidden for a while. He may even try to leave the country and stay well out of sight while he endeavours to recover. He has allies in France who will assist him in regaining his strength more swiftly, if indeed he is able to do so at all. Peregrine will take charge for the moment, but he does not yet have the powers or the knowledge that his father had. Also, they will need to promote two Breakers from within their ranks. We know of one in Newcastle and one in Cornwall, but it will take some time for them to be prepared adequately. I shall return to my house in Wales tomorrow with my companions, in an attempt to complete my recuperation. I hope you will feel able to join us.”

  “Well, yes. Apart from anything else, we need to see to our damaged transport,” Gareth pointed out. “My car was in a pretty bad way, as I recall.” The bruise on his forehead acquired during the accident had now faded altogether but he still rubbed the spot ruefully.

  “Your motor vehicle has been repaired and is fully restored. The bicycle has been disposed of. Do not worry, Beth—it was of a certain age anyway. It would be good if you could drive one of the vans tomorrow, Gareth. It will make us less conspicuous as we drive and there will be no need to travel by night.”

  “Yes, of course. It’s the least I can do. When do you want to leave?”

  “As soon as we are ready in the morning. The earlier I return to my home base, the more effective my recovery will be. One thing pleases me greatly. My son has proved himself more than ready to take on the leadership if required, more so than I was in similar circumstances.”

  “Yes, he has impressed us too, with his quiet dignity,” said Beth. “Not that you’re going to be leaving us just yet, Theeth!” She gave her old friend’s hand an affectionate squeeze as they took their leave to discuss plans with Bohommen and make arrangements for the morrow.

  41

  Sunday morning dawned clear, bright and very cold. There would be an icy grip on the roads and a lot of traffic about as people fortunate enough to be able to do so made an early getaway for the seasonal holiday. Gareth and Bohommen had consulted the AA atlas to find the quickest way back to Wales. As the gnome would not be driving, there was no need for any attempt at concealment by driving on B-Roads or avoiding the motorway. It soon became pretty clear that there was no direct route to Machynlleth anyway—just a small matter of some mountains in the way! They decided to leave London via the M40, then pick up the A40 to get them onto the M5. Leave the M5 at Worcester—Junction 7—and follow the A44 until its meeting with the A470. This latter road would take them round the mountains and up to Theeth’s residence in Machynlleth.

  It was decided that Gareth would drive, as agreed, with Beth in the front with him. Theeth would be made as comfortable as possible in the back with Bohommen and two lady gnomes, one of whom, they learned, Athaga, was Bohommen’s wife and the other, Ebuna, his daughter. The rest of the party would follow on in two further vans much later in the day and return home via the same circuitous route as they had taken on their way down, thus of necessity adding several hours to their journey. Only a couple of gnomes would remain in London to look after the property in Tachbrook Street.

  Getting out of the capital proved less difficult than they had anticipated and they made good time on to the M40. There was a battered old radio in the front of the van but, with Theeth resting, no attempt was made to try to coax it into life. Gareth and Beth contented themselves with chatting quietly.

  “Did your Mum break completely with Jewish tradition? It must have been quite difficult for her, if she came from a strictly Orthodox background.”

  “She did try to stay true to her beliefs. One or two things still survive, even now. I don’t know if you noticed, but I touched the doorway on the right-hand side as we went in.”

  “Yes, I did notice, but I didn’t attach any meaning to it. I thought perhaps you were just pleased to be home.”

  “Well, yes, I was but all Jewish houses are supposed to have a mezuzah there in a wooden container. That’s a manuscript specially written by a rabbi with a Jewish prayer on it. In houses, as opposed to flats or rented rooms, it’s supposed to be affixed as soon as you move in. Ours was, and it’s been there ever since. I still touch it as you’re supposed to, even now. Habit, I reckon, but I would be very unhappy if I didn’t do it. In fact, in the more strict houses, they have one on every door, except the smallest rooms, but I think my Mum thought she’d be pushing her luck there—it would have been a bit too much.”

  “And there were candles burning in a very beautiful candlestick,” Gareth said. “What was that about?”

  “That’s celebrating Hanukkah”

  “Hanu… what?”

  “Hanukkah. It commemorates the re-dedication of the Holy Temple in the 2nd Century BC. It’s a moveable feast, like Easter. It always falls between late November and late December and lasts for eight days. This year, it was between 5th and 12th December. If you looked closely you’d see that the holder, or menorah, as we call it, had four candle holders on one side, four on the other and a taller one in the middle. The candle in the taller one is used for lighting the others, one a day till all eight are lit. The eight candles all have to be the same height. We were there on Sunday night, the ninth, so five candles were lit.”

  “Yes, I was going to ask you why they weren’t all lit. Gwyneth did that, I suppose.”

  “Yes, my Mum would have made her swear to do it while she’s away. But she’s a good kid, our Gwyn. She wouldn’t mind.”

  “Isn’t it strange how closely these religions resemble each other? You have this menorah business, we have a lot of candle-lighting at Christmas and the Hindus have their festival of lights, Diwali, a little earlier in the year. Makes you wonder why someone doesn’t bang all their heads together to sort out the common ground and have them all believe in the one thing. Life would be so much more peaceful.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Beth commented sadly.

  “What about some of the rituals? Did you observe those?”

  “The boys were all circumcised eight days after birth, as required. Even Baby Jesus had to go through that one! Paddy wasn’t around, so there wasn’t much he could do about it. Besides, it’s much healthier for you, I believe.”

  This was not a topic of conversation Gareth felt inclined to follow. He said:

  “What about Bah Mitzvah? Did the boys have that?”

  “No. They were getting a bit big and rebellious by then. Even at the age of thirteen, they were all pretty massive. There’s a ceremony for the girls, too. It’s called Bat Mitzvah.”

 
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

  “No, a lot of non-Jews don’t. Well, we followed our brothers’ example and dug our heels in. Mum still tries to keep the faith. As I said, the local Rabbi is a good friend and has been for many years.”

  “You’ve not been tempted to go back to it?”

  “No. Like you, I find that all the orthodox religions leave too many questions unanswered. I think there is a lot of sense in what Theeth says. I’d like to think some of it, if not all of it, was true. I suppose that’s why I’ve found it relatively easy to believe.” Beth gave a sad little smile.

  Gareth agreed. “Yes, my thinking runs along the same lines. We will probably never know.”

  They made good progress onto the A40 and then up the M5. Traffic was quite heavy near Worcester and they stopped for a quick break, but then they got onto the A44, where the traffic was less intense and finally reached the A470 without too much trouble. It was getting darker now and Gareth had to concentrate even harder on his driving, especially as he was not at all familiar with this stretch of road.

  They heard Theeth stirring in the back of the vehicle and established that all was well with him. This encouraged Beth to switch the radio on. After some crackling, twiddling of dials and a couple of encouraging slaps, she managed to alight upon a local station, which, as luck would have it, was in the middle of a news bulletin.

  “Two incidents in this area involving fire have rather put a dampener on the Christmas spirits,” the announcer intoned funereally. “A badly burnt-out car, identified as a 1989 Bentley, has been found on a beach near Aberystwyth. The police believe there are the remains of two bodies inside but think they are so badly charred that they may never be able to identify them with any certainty. They have managed to match the car with the national database. Apparently, it belongs to a Mr. Oliver Etheridge, of South London. He was not at home when local police called, nor was his flatmate, Mr. Peter Patterson. Neither gentleman has been seen since Friday morning, although they were both known to be in good spirits last week, drinking at several of the nearby hostelries. As far as is known, neither of them has any connections with this part of the country.”

  “My God! Pretty ruthless,” Gareth exclaimed. “But why come all the way up here to get rid of them?”

  “To draw prying eyes away from where it happened”, Theeth replied softly from the back of the vehicle. “And to make sure that if any nosing around is done here, suspicion is more likely to fall on us than on them.”

  “Crafty. Is that would have happened to us, then, if… .”

  Theeth was affronted. “I can assure you, Mr. Llewellyn, we would have treated you with a lot more respect. Your families would have been informed and your bodies returned to them in dignified fashion. We are not all savages, you know.”

  “No, no, Theeth, of course not. Sorry!” Gareth was quick to apologise.

  The newsreader had gone on to the second fire-related incident, which involved a shop in Tal-y-Bont, between Machynlleth and Aberystwyth. “The shop, called Gilet d’Arc, is an art shop which has been owned by well-known local, Gilbert Dark, for many years. The premises have been totally destroyed but it is not thought anyone was inside at the time. Police say there are signs the fire may have been started deliberately, although the property is not believed to have been insured. The motive for arson therefore remains obscure.

  “Now, more cheerful news. A primary school in Machynlleth has raised… .”

  Beth sighed, leant forward and turned the radio off. “They haven’t wasted any time, have they?” she said quietly. “What will have happened to Gilbert and his partner?”

  “I do not know, but it will not be good,” Theeth replied softly. “Gilbert Dark will have been blamed for having provided us with the necessary means to destroy Poivre. Whatever his motive might have been, such actions would not be tolerated. I fear he and his partner may have been taken away quietly and eliminated, making sure of course that their bodies can never be found.” He added sadly, “You see how important it is that we oppose these people. They are totally unscrupulous. This is probably the work of Pierre’s son, Peregrine. I told you he was an unpleasant individual, but he has acted even more rapidly and ruthlessly than I had imagined or feared.”

  “If this is all his doing, does that mean PP’s dead then?” Beth chipped in hopefully.

  “No, not necessarily. But he will be in no fit state to take any major decisions at this time. I think it more likely that he will attempt to get away soon, perhaps return to France where he has friends and will feel safer. There he will recuperate until he considers himself strong enough to return to action. I am of the opinion that day is some way distant as of now.”

  “So this Peregrine character will be left to run the show in the meantime,” Gareth said. “That’s not good if he’s as much of a bastard as you suggest he is. How much power will he have?”

  “Not enough to harm us yet. But my spies tell me he is already attempting to track down his new henchmen with a view to having them trained as quickly and as efficiently as possible. I have been thinking that it would be good to have you two based in London permanently, so that you may observe the situation and be ready to take action when necessary. What do you think?”

  “Well, it’s no problem for me. I live in London anyway. Oh, and I’ve resigned my job, Theeth. That should show commitment to the cause. What about you, Beth?” Gareth was genuinely unsure how Beth would respond.

  “I’m not a hundred per cent happy about leaving Liverpool and my family, but I don’t think I have any choice. Gareth clearly needs me to keep him out of trouble and there is a lot of work that needs doing in that flat of his!” She smiled cheekily at her partner.

  “I…” Gareth spluttered, but Theeth interrupted him immediately.

  “Good. That is settled, then. That was less painful than I thought it might be. I am glad to hear about your job, Gareth. It must have been a difficult decision for you. I hope you will stay with me for one or two days now before you return to London to celebrate your Christmas.”

  Beth smiled happily. “Yes, of course, Theeth. We’d like to see you fully on the way to recovery. Then we’ll go over to Liverpool to spend Christmas at my place. Yes?”

  Gareth nodded his assent with an equally positive smile. “Although I may have to nip back to London first to collect a few things from my flat. After that, it’ll be Scouseland here we come!”

  The conversation subsided to a cheerful silence as they drove on. Nobody felt inclined to break the ambience of happiness and good will that reigned inside the old van. Not long after, they reached their destination and turned into the drive outside the old gnome’s house. Theeth had returned home triumphant.

  42

  Biblical scholars cannot tell us exactly when Christ was born—there seems general agreement, however, that it was somewhere between the years 7BC and 2BC. And why 25th December? There are a number of explanations for this. For a start, there is the obvious one: the Annunciation happened on 25th March, we’re told; therefore the birth must have been exactly nine months later, on 25th December. I don’t buy that one, a bit too twee for my liking. Another explanation is that that particular date was already celebrated as the birthday of the Roman god Mithras and the Greek god Dionysius. Many conquering civilisations and religions have had the good sense to “take over” existing gods and their feast—days and slot them smoothly in with their own beliefs. Lends more credence to their own code and lessens opposition among the natives.

  However, the most likely explanation, it seems to me, is that the date coincides almost exactly with the shortest day of the year, December 21st, and all the festivities that took place around it. Why try to impose another festival when one already exists? Whatever the reasons, by the 3rd century AD, it had been decided by the Church in Rome that this was to be the chosen date for the Nativity celebrations.
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  On that subject, only two of the four Gospels, Matthew and Luke, actually mention the birth at all. And even then, it only seems to be so that they can tie it in with various prophecies in the Old Testament. There is no mention of stables or specific animals in either account. In fact, Matthew says quite clearly: (II xi) And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother,and fell down and worshipped him; Incidentally, Matthew is the only one who mentions the Magi. They are not described as kings, nor is there any reference as to their number. It is only presumed that there are three of them because of their three gifts—the same verse in Matthew’s gospel concludes: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts: gold, and frankincense, and myrrh. Nothing is specified about number or indeed gender.

  Luke is much more forthcoming about the Nativity. To him we owe the reason for Joseph’s need to take his wife to Bethlehem, even though she was heavy with child. He also provides us with the verse that is the very essence of the Christmas story: (II vii): And she brought forth her first-born son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

  Luke also gives us the wonderful events surrounding the appearance of the angel to the shepherds on the hills: (II xi) And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them; and they were sore afraid. Go on, tell me you can find a modern-day translation that betters that! What would CNN or Fox News have made of it? The mind boggles!

  The angel also makes reference to the baby lying in a manger. That is where the idea of stables, oxen and asses comes from, and who are we to say that it is wrong? St Francis of Assisi, apparently, was the first one to come up with the idea of a Nativity scene, with clay models of the main participants and accompanying animals and the notion was quick to catch on. Now, a Christmas crib is part of many a public celebration of the birth of the Messiah.