Page 45 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure

Dora was buried in the small cemetery behind the church, beside fishermen who had drowned a hundred years ago, all surnames that Ellie recognized.

Father André was kind enough to admit her to a Catholic burial ground because, as he said, “The good Lord loves us all.” He said a simple blessing over her.

Tommy and Clive, the doctor and his wife, Henri and Monsieur Danton stood as witnesses as flowers were dropped on to her coffin.

Mavis and Louis were still on their honeymoon, and Ellie didn’t want it spoiled by this news.

Instead she watched as if she were observing a film, something not real.

She couldn’t imagine life without the old lady.

But she stood, stoic and proud, in her black dress and her black cotton gloves.

Afterwards they had a drink and a simple snack at Henri’s, and she went home to an empty house.

How big it seemed. How echoing and empty. Ellie walked from room to room, finding traces of Dora in each of them. Tiger followed her, occasionally giving a plaintive meow as if he shared her mourning.

“I know,” she said. “She’s gone, Tiger. She’s not here.”

She went into Dora’s meticulously neat bedroom. Her journal lay on her bedside table, where Ellie had placed it. Feeling uneasy she opened it, looking at page after page of Dora’s perfect, copperplate handwriting. She saw a lot of the pages were poems, and the latest one:

I see the way ahead quite clear.

I take those steps. I have no fear.

For all ahead is good and gold,

And all my story has been told ...

Tears welled in Ellie’s eyes. She clutched the journal to her, carried it to her bedroom and placed it on her bedside table. She would read it when she felt she could handle it without breaking down.

“I’m all alone,” she said. No Mavis, no Jojo and now no Dora.

Nobody. Bruno no longer came up so often, preferring to stay home with his mother, still fearful about news he didn’t really understand.

Besides, Bruno, while sweet and lovable, would not understand her hopelessness.

She could, of course, go to see Tommy and Clive.

They’d ply her with food and drink and make her smile, but she wasn’t ready for that.

She wasn’t really ready to talk to anybody.

Tiger jumped on to the bed and rubbed up against her, purring.

She stroked him and he climbed on to her lap.

“At least I’ve got you,” she said. “You’re all I’ve got now.”

After a few days of silence and emptiness, she felt as if she had to talk to someone, and the face that swam into her consciousness was the abbot’s.

But the next ferry was two weeks away, and last time she had not been able to get anywhere near him.

She stood up, making a decision. She would take Nico’s boat if he wasn’t using it.

She grabbed a headscarf and a jacket and marched down the steps.

Nico was sitting on the waterfront, talking with some people she didn’t recognize.

Her heart lurched—what if he was about to take them out in the boat?

Ellie hung back, unwilling to interrupt a private conversation, but Nico saw her, waved.

“Where have you been?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Miss Smith-Humphries died,” she said. “I didn’t feel like being sociable.”

“And now you do?”

“Not really,” she said. “I was wondering if you need your boat this morning.”

“Not so far,” he said.

“I wanted to go over to the abbey.”

“The abbey? You are about to become a nun now that your friend is dead?” He gave one of his cheeky smiles.

“That would hardly be the place since they are all men,” she replied, giving him a stern look for making a joke. “But no. There is something I wanted to discuss with the abbot.”

“It must be important since it is not their usual visiting day.”

“It is,” she said. “So do you think I could have the boat? It shouldn’t take much more than an hour.”

“I’ll drive you if you like,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind taking a look at the place for myself.”

Her immediate thought was that he wanted to find a good site to hide smuggled goods, or maybe black market goods, and what better than a holy island. She shook her head. “Thank you, but I’d rather be alone if you don’t mind.”

“Suit yourself.” He frowned, and she saw he was disappointed. Was it being denied her company or denied seeing the island that had produced that look?

“I’m not good company at the moment,” she added. “I’ll be back quickly.”

And without waiting for him to say any more, she hurried down the steps to the harbour and climbed into the boat, finding the key and then setting the ropes free.

As she emerged from the harbour, she relished the breeze in her face.

She pushed the throttle and felt the power as the boat shot forward.

The sea was a pure dark blue and smooth as glass, and suddenly she was conscious of shapes in the water beside her.

Two dolphins broke the surface, keeping up with her as if enjoying the fun.

“Oh,” she gasped, entranced. It was almost as if it was a sign.

Maybe one of those dolphins was Dora, as she had loved to swim and had regretted that she wouldn’t be able to make it over the rocks to the beach any longer.

The dolphins kept up with the boat for a minute or two, and then they vanished again, leaving only miles of smooth blue sea.

As the boat approached the island, she saw monks working in the gardens, black figures, some with cowls over their heads.

That was good. She wouldn’t have to intrude too far.

She eased the boat to the dock, tied it up and was halfway up the flight of steps when one of the monks loomed over her.

“No, madame. You cannot come here,” he called out. “This is a monastery. A holy place.”

“I know,” she called back. “I came to see your abbot. If he could spare me a few minutes of his time, it’s quite important.”

“He knows about this?”

“Not this visit, but he knows me. Please tell him that Ellie Endicott needs to see him.” As she spoke she came up the rest of the steps.

The monk had his cowl back, and she saw he was very young—younger than her boys.

She gave him an encouraging, motherly smile.

He nodded, put down the hoe he had been using and walked away.

Ellie sat on the bench close to the steps.

Other monks kept at their tasks and did not look up.

It was a pleasant place to wait. Roses climbed a trellis behind her, and the air hummed with the buzz of bees.

The scent of flowers mixed with the smell of the sea below, and she listened to the gentle slap and hiss of waves on the rocks.

As she sat there a bell tolled, the sound echoing out over the stillness.

The monks put down their tools and headed back to the monastery.

Ellie was afraid that this would mean the abbot, too, would be required at some form of service.

But then she heard the slap of sandals on the sandy path, looked around and saw him coming towards her.

“I came as soon as I could,” he said. “You wanted to see me? There is an emergency?”

“Not an emergency,” Ellie said, feeling foolish now. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come, but I just needed words of wisdom, and you are the only person I know I could talk to.”

“You are in distress. I see it in your face,” he said. He sat beside her on the bench. “Are you frightened because you are now trapped here by the war?”

“I suppose I am,” she said. “Now I question my decision to remain here.”

“And now you think it is too late to depart?”

She nodded. “It is. The route north through France is now closed to me. I suppose I could make for Portugal through Spain, but what would be the point of a country where I don’t speak the language?”

“Would you rather be back in England? You miss it?”

She thought about this. “Not really. My life was comfortable there, but boring. And I had no true friends.”

“So why would you wish to go back? Because it is safer? I do not think this will be true. Hitler will want Britain more than he wants the South of France.”

Ellie nodded. “I think I know this. It was fine when I had my friends with me, but now I find myself alone,” Ellie said.

And she told him about Jojo, and Dora and Mavis.

“I had everything I desired, people I loved and who loved me. And one by one they have been taken away. I have this lovely big house and beautiful view but nobody to share it with. I sit down to my supper in silence. I’m afraid, I wonder what’s going to happen to me, what I’m doing here, and if I made a terrible mistake. ”

He nodded. “Grief is a powerful emotion,” he said.

“It consumes one. It saps the ability to see joy. And you add this to the terrible news we hear, so much suffering, the defeat of good people ... No wonder you feel lost. Even we, who have the peace and safety of the abbey, feel the great disturbance in the fabric of humanity. So what would you want me to tell you?”

“How to keep going,” she said. “No, it’s more than that. How to believe. I told you before that I’ve only gone through the motions of Christianity. I’ve never really prayed, and I’m afraid at this moment I seriously wonder if there is a God.”

“I can only tell you from my own experience, but I have to say that yes, there definitely is a power behind this universe. Call him what you will. I personally believe that he sent down his son to save us, and his son gave us the mandate to save those around us. So I think if you want to heal, you should start by doing that: reach out to others, do what you can to make their lives better. And reach out to God, too. Prayers don’t have to be elaborate things.

Why don’t you start with three things you’re blessed with, three things you’re afraid of and finally three things you ask of him? And don’t forget to listen, too.”

“Listen? He talks back to you?”

“Oh yes. Not always a great voice in the silence, but sometimes I get up from my knees absolutely sure of what I have to do. Sometimes I just feel a comforting presence, that invisible hand on my shoulder saying, ‘Don’t worry, my son. I’m here with you, whatever happens.’”

“I wish I had that belief,” she said. “How I envy you.”

“Belief has to be worked at the same as any other skill,” he said. “Try practicing it. Go to church every Sunday. Let God see that you’re trying hard.” And he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Would it be possible to come out here and see you from time to time?” she asked.

“It depends why you wish to come,” he said. “Your real motive.”

“My motive?” She was confused.

He nodded. “I wonder. Am I a male figure you can fall in love with, but who is quite safe from your having to get more intimate with?”

“Oh.” It felt like a slap in the face. “No. Not at all.” She shook her head vehemently.

“You are still a young woman,” he went on.

Ellie had to smile. “I’m almost fifty-two.”

“Young at heart. You have been betrayed by one man, and so you make sure you don’t get too close to any other man, in case it happens again. But I am unreachable, therefore safe.”

“Oh no,” she said again, but then added quietly, “You may be right.”

“You might also consider that this is a temptation for me. You saw how quickly we established a rapport. We definitely felt a spark of shall I say attraction ... between us.”

“So you are telling me you don’t want me to come again.”

“Not at all. I’m just saying we have to make sure we understand that we must tread lightly, analyse our feelings. Be honest about this with each other.”

“Yes,” she said. “I would not want to cause you any embarrassment or discomfort.”

“Then I would suggest an occasional visit. Come with the ferry, and I will make time for you, but don’t rely on me and my comfort as your main support.

Find that elsewhere. My words for you are that being alone is not healthy.

That is why we men live in a community as we strive for holiness.

Make sure you reach out to others. Believe me when I say that we are all going to need the support of those around us very soon.

The war has not touched us yet, but it will.

There will be sorrow and suffering and need, and we all must make sure that we do our part to bring a little light into that darkness. ”

He got up then, took her hands, holding them for a long minute before he released her and gave a blessing. “Go with God,” he said.

Ellie walked away, her hands warm from his touch. She realized that everything he had said was true. She would have to be careful. She was already more than a little in love with him.