I looked at my watch; it was nearly ten o’ clock. I lit another cigarette and blew a cloud of pale grey smoke into the air, where it moved slowly in the sunlight and then disappeared. From somewhere I could hear the sound of men’s voices. If there was someone in the garden, I would ask if I could have a fork or a spade so I could weed some rose beds. I didn’t want to sit doing nothing all day. Perhaps, too, they would like me better, notice me more if I did something for them.
I stubbed out the cigarette under my foot and threw the remains into the earth. The voices were getting fainter and so I hurried through the archway and saw two of the brothers standing by the cedar tree. They had their backs to me and appeared to be watching the rabbit, which was still tied to the tree. I recognised the young spotty brother at once, but the other one I wasn’t so sure about. Was he one of those who had been reading in the library? In any case, neither of them turned towards me and so I had to speak to their backs.
‘Hello! Good morning!’ And then they turned without expression, as if they had known I was approaching them all the time. They didn’t seem pleased.
‘I was wondering – do you think I could have a spade or a fork or something? I thought I’d have a go at weeding in the rose garden.’
They stared at me, incredulous, and I wanted to laugh.
‘That would be all right, wouldn’t it? I like gardening and it’d give me something to do. That rose garden is a bit of a wreck, isn’t it!’ I shouldn’t have said that.
‘Well, I don’t know.’ It was the spotty one, and he clearly didn’t know what to say. He turned. ‘There are some things in the shed, aren’t there? We’re going there, anyway.’
The other nodded.
They led the way down by the visitors’ block, passed my room and beyond, to a wild, nettle-ridden patch on the far side, where stood an old wooden garage.
The ‘reading brother’, as I thought of him, pulled open one of the double doors and the inside flooded with light. Against one wall leaned two bicycles with baskets hanging from the handlebars. Spiders’ webs hung from the spokes of the wheels. The walls were lined with wide shelves on which lay wooden storage trays, but all they contained now were dry, wrinkled leaves and dust. Red clay flowerpots were piled in corners amongst seed trays and bean sticks. Along one side was a row of hooks from which hung various dog collars and leads. At the back there was a workbench and leaning against this were various gardening tools, but to reach them it was necessary to squeeze past the shiny green motor mower, which stood in the middle, looking quite out of place amongst the dust and the cobwebs.
‘Give me a hand with this. Better open the other door.’ And the spotty brother unbolted the second door and tugged it open. At once, hordes of brown lice scattered, disturbed by the moving doors. The two of them pushed out the mower and then almost simultaneously wiped the dust from their spotless habits. In contrast to the younger, rather gangling man with the acne-covered face, the other was handsome with his immaculately cut, thick wavy hair, his tall, stylish bearing and his habit,which hung elegantly down to the top of expensive leather shoes.
‘Now, what exactly do you want?’ The ‘reading brother’ sounded vaguely impatient. ‘Have a look. There are various things here.’ He led me to the back of the shed and picked up a fork. ‘Will this do?’
‘That’s fine.’ I took the fork from him. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know your names. I’m Rose Gregory.’
I looked at the faces, but the slight warmth I thought I had detected before, the warmth that encouraged me to ask their names, had gone. The man still standing beside me looked questionably towards his companion who said, ‘Stephen,’ and moved self-consciously towards a half-open toolbox standing in the nearby corner.
‘I’m David,’ said the other, and for a moment he actually looked at me! I know I smiled.
‘Are you going to do some gardening, too?’
He shook his head. ‘Mending the chicken run. Some of the wire needs replacing.’
‘What? You keep chickens?’ The idea pleased me. There was nothing more wonderful than collecting eggs. I had done it as a child when we had stayed on a farm for a few days. It was one of my happy childhood memories.
‘Not now. Too many foxes about. Haven’t had chickens since I’ve been here. Became a dogs’ run.’
‘What’s it going to be for now – as you’re mending it?’
‘I don’t think we’re sure,’ the good-looking one, David, mumbled, and actually gave a hint of amusement.
‘It’s not for Brother Joseph’s rabbit, is it? Or is it?’
He shrugged. ‘Not sure, as I said.’
I changed the subject. ‘How long have you been here, then?’
‘Six years,’ and he turned away and joined Stephen by the toolbox.
‘And you?’
‘Just coming up to nine months.’
‘Not long, then.’ I wanted to ask if he was happy, if it was all right here.
‘But we’re moving in five weeks.’ He sounded a bit despondent.
‘I know. Do you mind?’
‘It’s worse for some of the others. The older ones. They feel they’ll be leaving all their friends behind,’ – and he pointed to beyond the Monks’ Walk – ‘in the graveyard. They don’t want to leave because of that, do they?’ He turned towards Brother David, who was sorting through a jar of nails.
‘We’ve got a private graveyard, the other side of the walk. Perhaps you haven’t seen it yet. Some of the old brothers like to go there to “talk to their friends”. The move will be hard for them. It’s not so bad for us.’
I wasn’t sure whether he was mocking the old monks. Did they really think they were talking to their friends? Did they believe their friends could hear? Did they really believe? I never felt near to Dan or Fleur when I went to their little graves and so I’ve stopped going.
Brother David pointed to a roll of chicken wire, which was hanging from a hook in the wall.
‘Bring that wire!’
He turned to me. ‘Have you got everything, then? Only we must get on and mend this run before lunch.’
I picked up a wicker basket. ‘I’ll take this to put the weeds in, if that’s OK.’ I took the fork. ‘I’ll just put them back here when I’ve finished, shall I?’ But they were already making their way back down the path.
‘Thanks very much,’ I called after them and then hoped they hadn’t detected a smudge of sarcasm as I followed them into the sunlight. But as soon as I was some distance away, I heard them talking; one of them laughed.