‘But over-eagerness is quite common among postulants,’ Helewise remarked.
Abbess Madelina nodded. ‘Yes, indeed it is. That was what I kept telling myself. And, as the weeks passed and Alba began pressing to take her first vows as a novice, I decided to ask her about her background. It can be of help, I find, to know what it is in a person’s personal history that has given rise to certain habitual behaviour.’
‘What did she say?’
‘She said she was from a wealthy family — which was in fact supported by the fact that she had arrived with a generous endowment including both money and goods — and that the richness of her home life had become a great burden to her. The lavishness of her father’s hall sickened her very soul, she declared, when, within so short a distance of that warm, glowing place of abundance, the poor were dying of hunger and disease. She was called to a humble life of prayer, she told me, and fervently hoped that her own renunciation of wealth and comfort would mitigate against her family’s state of self-indulgent comfort.’
‘She must have been quite a trial to her family,’ Helewise commented.
‘Exactly what I thought, Abbess. I did wonder, although I am ashamed to confess it, whether the generous dowry was her father’s way of saying that he would pay any price to be rid of her.’
‘Quite.’ Helewise was thinking, trying to remember exactly what Alba had told her on arriving at Hawkenlye.
As she had half expected before Abbess Madelina had even begun, it was totally different from what the woman had told the Abbess of Sedgebeck. Alba had said that her family had farmed a smallholding — which they had not owned — and, when the parents died, the girls had been left homeless. And, presumably, penniless.
Where had the Sedgebeck dowry originated, then? And why had Alba made up the story about coming from a wealthy home?
Unless perhaps that story were the true one, and the tale of poor homeless orphans was the lie?
A thought occurred to Helewise.
‘Abbess, what did Alba look like?’
The blue eyes held hers, a shrewd expression in them. ‘Is the story she told us so very different that you question whether your Alba and ours are one and the same?’
Helewise smiled. ‘Yes.’
‘Alba is of medium height, but with a wiriness that gives the illusion that she is tall. Her face is habitually pale, save when she flies into a rage, when she takes on a violent flush. Her mouth is small, with thin lips that fold in on themselves when she disapproves of something. Her eyes-’ The Abbess broke off. ‘Do you know, I cannot recall what colour Alba’s eyes are.’ She sounded as if it were cause to reprove herself.
‘Neither can I,’ Helewise agreed. ‘They are rather small eyes, deeply-set.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’ Abbess Madelina sighed. ‘I do think, Abbess, that we refer to the same woman.’
‘Yes, I am sure of it. And, as you rightly guessed, the story she told to me of her background was entirely different.’ Briefly she related it. ‘One similarity, however, does occur to me.’
‘Yes?’ Abbess Madelina said eagerly.
‘Oh, it’s only a small point! I was just thinking that, in both cases, Alba made herself out to be heroic.’ No — that sounded far too accusatory. ‘I should say, the circumstances that she related suggested, in each case, that she had acted with courage and a nobility of soul. When she came here, she said she had given up a life of luxury because she could not equate it with the sufferings of the poor. When she came to Hawkenlye, she said she had been forced to leave a community where she was very happy out of duty to her family. Her younger sisters were heartbroken over the death of their parents, and Alba took upon herself the responsibility for their happiness, removing them from the place where they had suffered their loss and taking them on to a new life elsewhere. And — Abbess, whatever is the matter?’
For Abbess Madelina, surprise quite evident in her face, was slowly shaking her head. ‘Abbess Helewise, we must be speaking of two different women after all. Our Alba had no sisters; she was an only child.’
Chapter Eleven
It took a moment for the two Abbesses to reach the clear conclusion that Alba had lied to Abbess Madelina about being an only child, as well as about so much else.
But why?
‘If the parents were living when Alba came here to Sedgebeck,’ Helewise ventured, ‘then, in truth, the little sisters were not her responsibility. But, once the parents were dead — and I should say, Abbess Madelina, that there are doubts about whether they died together, as Alba says, or whether in fact the mother died some time ago and the father but recently — then she could no longer ignore the girls.’
‘Hmmm. I think,’ Abbess Madelina said, ‘that your next step must be to seek out the former family home. Assuming that you have been told where it was. I am afraid we were not.’
‘I have been informed,’ Helewise reassured her. ‘Berthe told me.’
‘Good. Much as I should like you to stay here with us and rest for a few days after your long journey, I do feel that we have told you all that we are able to. And every day you remain here is another day for the trail, if indeed there is one, to go cold.’
‘Indeed,’ Helewise agreed. ‘And another day that Meriel is missing and possibly in danger.’
‘Missing?’
Helewise realised that she had not yet told Abbess Madelina about that. Nor, indeed, about the slain pilgrim found on the path in the Vale. Trying to minimise her distress — and with the distinct feeling that she was not succeeding very well — she explained.
Shaking her head in dismay, Abbess Madelina said as Helewise finished speaking, ‘I shall pray for you, Abbess. I shall keep you with me in my thoughts, and, if you will permit, I shall ask Sister Celestine to ask the Lord to aid you.’
Helewise and the two lay brothers set out from Sedgebeck after joining the sisters for their noon meal. Helewise was quite sure that the kindly nuns had shared more of their precious stores with their guests than was prudent, for the meal was very good, and the portions were generous.
She had told the brothers where they were bound for next. ‘We only have the single name, Medely, to guide us,’ she had said as they set out, ‘and, for all I know, it may be but a tiny hamlet. None of the Sedgebeck sisters knew of it when we asked them over dinner.’
Brother Saul suggested enquiring at Ely. But Augustine said, ‘I once went to a place called Medely Birdbeck. There was a fair there, and we put on a show for them.’
Wondering whether Abbess Madelina’s prayers were already having an effect, Helewise said, ‘Let’s begin there, then.’
It was not a long ride to Medely Birdbeck. But, far from being the substantial and thriving place that Helewise had been expecting — fairs, after all, were not held in the middle of nowhere — it proved to be all but deserted.
There were more than twenty dwellings, set around a pond fringed with willows, and a crossroads met in the middle of the village. But most of the dwellings were quite obviously uninhabited. Smoke was coming out of only two or three chimneys.