Time After Time

Kate drifted in and out of sleep. The waking world merged with her dreams, until she was no longer sure which was real. She followed James through forests, landscapes of glass towers, and terraced streets. Sometimes the earth was a dry barren wasteland. Sometimes it was a sticky humid jungle. Large reptilian faces with intelligent eyes peered through thick foliage.

At other times, she was in a large bed. The kind face of a young priest looking upon her, his hand dabbing her forehead with a cool wet cloth. Then she was a little girl, wandering the dark streets of a strange town. She searched for her mother. She stepped into a smooth black road with broken white stripes painted down the centre. The blare of a horn, and a man in a red and white striped tunic rushed towards her, asking if she was ok.

“Sh...”

Curled in mother’s lap, campfire blazing, snug and warm. “Don’t worry baby, the wolves are scared of the fire...” Long dark hair tickled her nose.

Thick choking smoke was pouring from towering chimneys. Buildings black with soot. The ground shakes with a huge explosion. People are running. Women are hugging each other crying.

“You’re back with us.” It was the priest.

Was this real? She did not know what to believe any more.

“You’ve had us all worried but the fever has settled.”

Question followed question. When would they ever end? Where did she live? What was her mother’s name? Had someone tried to hurt her?

The woman, Sheila, had a nice smile but she spoke a strange language. Everything was strange here, different to home. More people came who spoke different languages. They were trying to figure out where she was from. She understood them all but chose to pretend otherwise.

Two old ladies visited her; they took her for a walk in the park. They sat on a bench near the pond and one of old ladies, Mary, held Kate’s hand. Kate could feel Mary’s frail bones beneath her papery skin. The other woman, Gladys, sketched in a large pad. The warm sun glinted on the water as the ducks drifted from side to side. She did not see them again.

Weeks, months passed. Sheila, told her she was going to have a new mother now.

Kate woke again refreshed. The priest sat on a chair by the bed.

“Are you staying this time?”

Kate glanced around and recognised Mabel’s bedroom.

“How long have I been here?”

“Four days. Lady Mabel sent out a search party when we found you gone and the doors wide open. A peasant woman spotted you wandering barefoot on the edge of Wigan. You were raving, saying all kind of strange things. I haven’t been able to get any sense out of you.”

“What about James?”

“He got lost collecting berries in the woods. He is home now, and his mother is happy. I say mother, but he is a foundling.”

“I’ve seen things I never could have imagined Father. I’m losing faith in my powers of reason.”

“Reason is what makes us human,” said John. “It’s our most powerful gift. Yet, we must not think we know everything, or that we could know everything.”

Kate tried to sit up. She was stiff but the aching had gone. She sat on the edge of the bed. “Why do you believe in God?”

John looked baffled by the question.

“I believe because there’s something, rather than nothing.”

“You seem different to the other priests I’ve met.”

“I’m a Dominican friar. It’s my calling to be part of the community, to be poor. Would you like to pray? We have a chapel downstairs.”

At first, she was going to refuse, but it would be good to stretch her legs, and interesting to see a medieval chapel. She slipped on some shoes, and followed John down the stairs. They crossed the hall to a small door on the wall opposite the garderobe. They both ducked to enter.

Inside was a tiny chapel with an ornate altar. It was lit by flickering candles, revealing elaborate tapestries hanging from the walls. Kate took a seat in a dark corner.

“I love the calmness here,” said John. “I give mass every morning. Join us tomorrow.”

John left the room and closed the door. He was right. It was calm. She sat meditating for a long time.

The sound of the door opening broke the silence. Mabel entered. She wore a long hooded cloak and a pair of sturdy boots, as if she were about to go on a journey. She strode across the chapel and kneeled at the altar.

After a few moments, Kate felt she like a voyeur. She should have announced herself when Mabel entered, but it would be rude to interrupt now. She decided to wait until Mabel had finished. It was so hot. Sweat poured off her. The fever had not yet passed.

Kate must have drifted off again. A jolt passed through her body. Mabel was getting to her feet and making the sign of the cross. Before Kate had a chance to speak, Mabel walked to the side of the altar and pushed. The solid stone pedestal slid to one side. Underneath were steps disappearing into a dark shaft. Mabel pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, picked up one of the candlesticks and descended.

Kate sat frozen in the corner.