Ben began to cry again, not quiet tears now but great, hulking sobs which went on and on as Sam rocked him in his arms, also crying, and in a voice unused for months hoarsely whispered his name, over and over, while Elsie pressed close into them, nuzzling first one brother and then the other.
At last, with a shuddering sigh, Ben pulled away, and looked at his brother, still not able to believe what he was seeing.
‘You’re here.’ He reached up and touched Sam’s scar. ‘Does it hurt?’
Sam smiled, a tentative grimace, rediscovering forgotten muscles. ‘Not any more.’
‘I waited and waited,’ said Ben. ‘What happened?’
‘I’m … not sure,’ croaked Sam.
He looked towards the house, where Lotti with Federico, Clara, the Reverend Mother and a number of sisters had gathered by the back door, witnessing their reunion from afar.
‘Come,’ he said, getting to his feet.
‘Must we?’ asked Ben regretfully.
‘Yes,’ said Sam. ‘Not for long. But these women have been good to me, and I think … I think the Reverend Mother might help.’
When she saw the brothers begin to walk towards the house, Mother Julienne sent all the other sisters away. As Sam and Ben drew close, she held out her hands in a gesture of welcome.
‘So, Moses,’ she said. ‘Or should I call you Samuel? You have returned.’
‘I have.’ Sam’s voice quavered. ‘And I owe you and my brother an explanation. Especially my brother.’
The Reverend Mother nodded and then, in her crisp way, offered her parlour as a calm, private place to talk.
Ben pulled on his brother’s sleeve.
‘Can Lotti and Clara come too?’
‘It’s not necessary,’ said Clara, seeing how tired Sam looked. ‘You’ll be wanting privacy.’
‘But I want to hear,’ Lotti hissed at her. ‘Clara! After all we’ve done to find him!’
‘Anything Ben wants is fine with me,’ said Sam.
In the parlour, under the Reverend Mother’s steely eye, the dogs settled angelically on the hearthrug. Lotti sat beside them and pulled Federico into her lap. Mother Julienne, Clara and Sam sat on chairs. Ben sat on the floor close to his brother, as if fearful that at any moment he might disappear again.
In a halting, unfamiliar voice, Sam began to piece together what he could remember of his story.
‘Nathan … he shouldn’t have come, but it was so good to see him … He looked after me, we went for walks, little ones, a bit longer every day, him fussing … me leaning on him, him leaning on his stick … it was funny! And then on the day it happened, on the day the planes came …’
Sam paused. The door opened and Sister Monique appeared bearing a tea tray.
‘Just in time,’ said the Reverend Mother crisply.
After tea had been poured and cups distributed, Sam resumed.
‘On the day the planes came, we walked as far as the river, and I … oh, it sounds so trivial now … The weather was warm, and I took off my boots because I wanted to paddle and Nathan said … oh God, I wish I hadn’t done it … Nathan said, you’ll be cold, I’ll go and fetch a blanket …’
They all steeled themselves, guessing what was coming next.
‘Nathan went to fetch a blanket and … well, that’s when it happened … when the planes came. The last thing I remember was hearing the planes and seeing Nathan … seeing Nathan …’
Sam began to cry. Lotti stole a sideways look at Ben, saw that he was crying too and felt a lump rise in her throat. Clara was also wiping away tears.
‘Go on,’ said the Reverend Mother.
‘Then I don’t remember … not clearly … it’s just like pictures, like photographs … trees on fire … and a nurse with blood on her face … and a great hole in the ground … and I just … I put my boots back on and then I just … walked away, following the river … I walked for days, and I slept in barns, and sometimes I stole food … clothes … at some point I must have thrown away my dog tag … I didn’t talk to anyone, I just walked and walked, and then when I did need to talk to someone I found I couldn’t … There was a farmer … he kept asking me my name, and I couldn’t remember … It’s so strange …’
‘I believe in English it is part of a syndrome called shell shock,’ said the Reverend Mother. ‘It is strange, but also common. What happened next?’
‘In the spring I came here, and you were all so kind, and the woods and the river so lovely … I think, now, that it reminded me of home, the Sparrowhawk, the canals … So I stayed.’
Ben could see from the Reverend Mother’s reaction that she thought Sam’s condition quite normal, but he was struggling to understand, and couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. ‘But you must have recognised the Sparrowhawk?’ he asked. ‘Didn’t you?’
‘Yes … no … I don’t know …’ Sam looked apologetic. ‘A little, maybe … I watched her …’
‘I saw you,’ said Clara. ‘You frightened me.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Sam apologised again. Then, looking puzzled, he asked, ‘How did the Sparrowhawk get here?’
‘We drove her from England,’ said Lotti.
‘But that’s …’
‘I know.’ Ben grinned. ‘Nathan would be livid.’
‘He would.’ A slow smile spread across Sam’s face, a proper one this time, and Ben breathed a sigh of relief.
At last, Sam looked like himself!
‘She took a bashing, the Sparrowhawk,’ Ben said. ‘She’s making this rattling sound. We’ll have to check her properly before we take her home.’
‘I’ll come down and look with you now,’ said Sam. ‘I can’t wait to see the old girl again.’
‘And Sam … Elsie’s had puppies!’
At this, the Reverend Mother smiled and stood up.
‘In such a moment, I think puppies may be just the thing,’ she said. ‘If after all the excitement you are hungry, lunch will be served in half an hour in the refectory. We eat simply here, but there is plenty for everyone, and you are welcome to join us.’
She paused at the door. ‘Ben, Charlotte … I have not forgotten what I told you when you first came, that your search was impossible. It appears I was wrong. Well done.’
With another smile, the Reverend Mother left. Sam slung his arm round Ben’s shoulders.
‘Come on then, little brother, let’s go and look at these dogs. And the Sparrowhawk! Tell me, is the kingfisher still there above my berth? That I do remember!’
*
The brothers followed the Reverend Mother out of the room. Lotti let out a deep breath.
My berth, Sam had said. Well, of course it was. His berth. Not hers.
‘Let’s go and help Sister Monique with lunch,’ said Clara. ‘Give Ben and Sam some space.’
‘Not right now,’ said Lotti. ‘There’s something I have to do.’