“He’s acting all pious because he wants to get a stipend after the exams,” claimed Marcel. “Then he can go and study in Rome or Paris.”
The weather was extremely changeable in early April. Farid felt miserable, and so weak that he fainted several times and had to stay in bed. All his friends visited him, and Gabriel kept looking in as well. Only Bulos never showed up.
Marcel came several times a day, told jokes and passed on gossip, and always brought Farid something special to eat. One day he confided to Farid that he was going to leave the monastery at the end of the school year, and none of the Fathers were allowed to touch him or punish him any more.
“How on earth did you manage that?” asked Farid in amazement.
“Simple. I found out that no one works in the secretarial office at siesta time, and the phone isn’t watched. The only problem was Abbot Maximus, because he spends that time of day in his own office. So I waited until he was away, and then I opened the door of the secretarial office with a piece of wire. I called home and told my father he had to get me out of here or I’d kill myself, and when he asked where I was calling from I told him about the wire and the empty office. My father shouted like a madman. He was scared out of his wits that I was learning to be a criminal in the monastery. That settled it. He blamed Abbot Maximus for letting me go to the bad, and he warned him to leave me alone for the rest of the school year.”
“I don’t want to stay either,” said Farid. “Could you call my mother and tell her to come at once? If my father answers the phone hang up again at once. It’s useless trying to talk to him.”
Two days later Marcel brought news that Claire would come as soon as she possibly could. But he also told Farid that Bulos had been questioned yet again, by a CID man, no less. Marcel reported that Bulos had said very some angry things about Brother Gabriel and Farid.
The scene in the library went through Farid’s mind, the time when Bulos had seen him with Gabriel on the day they did the deed. And at that moment he knew that Bulos was accusing him of treachery.
143. Farewell
Gabriel came to see him once more. He had his gentle smile on his face, and he explained at length that Bulos had been difficult recently, and it had been suggested that he should leave the monastery of his own accord or he might be thrown out. Bulos had gone to pieces, asking to be allowed to take his exams, but the monastery administration refused. The CID was as good as certain that he had taken part in the attack on Brother John, although in the monastery’s interests they were willing to drop the case to avoid a scandal in the press.
However, he added, he had now managed to get Bulos a reprieve. He would have to leave the monastery, but he could spend the last months until the examinations in early June at a nearby boarding school. He didn’t want to see Bulos ruined and sent home without any diploma at all, said Gabriel.
Farid heard the malice in his voice, and hated him for it. He was overcome by a strange fear that Bulos might hear of Gabriel’s visit to him, and then his friend would feel that his darkest suspicions were confirmed. So Farid told Gabriel apologetically that he was very tired, and he lay down. Realizing that his presence was no longer wanted, Gabriel broke off in the middle of his explanations, and left the room.
That night Farid ran a temperature, and when he wanted to go to the lavatory he fell and hit his head. He lost consciousness. When he came back to his senses he felt wretched. Over ten anxious faces were looking down on him. His head was bandaged, his temple hurt. Marcel was smiling at him and kept patting his hand.
Next day Father Simeon, the monastery doctor, visited him. He entered without a word of greeting and began taking his things out of an old leather bag. “Come on, do you need a written invitation to show me your chest?” he growled.
He ran an ice-cold stethoscope over Farid’s back and chest. Then he put his things away again. Just then Father Istfan, the Inquisitor, came through the doorway. He spoke quietly to the doctor, and for the first time in his life Farid heard the word “malingerer”.
The Inquisitor nodded, and glanced at Farid, who was putting his pyjama jacket on again.
“My son,” said the Inquisitor, enveloping him in a dense cloud of bad breath, “you must trust me. I only want to help you. What is troubling you, what makes you withdraw from the school and your comrades? What makes you injure your head like that? Is it perhaps connected with what your friend Bulos did? You can tell me everything.”
Farid hated the weakness that kept him confined to the bed. He felt driven into a corner. Why couldn’t he just fly out of the window like a bird?
“Take care, my son, for if you won’t let us help you, Father Simeon will tell the Abbot that you’re only pretending to be sick, and that will be punished as deception.”
So that’s it, thought Farid, this lousy Inquisitor wants to worm it all out of me because they’re not quite sure about Bulos yet. They don’t know anything about him. It’s Gabriel’s cheap revenge. That snake! They’re not sorry for Bulos at all, they’re tormenting him.
“Mama!” cried Farid, in as loud and shrill a voice as he could. Father Istfan was scared out of his wits. He flung himself on the boy, but Farid slipped out of the other side of the bed and ran to the open window, still shouting “Mama!” again and again. Istfan stumbled after him, but suddenly hesitated, stopped, and put out his hands almost imploringly. Then, however, he hurried out of the dormitory.
Outside, spring was bright with fresh colours. But it was still cold as ice in the dormitory. More and more people were gathering in the car park outside. Farid recognized the bus driver, the mechanic, Brother Nicholas from the laundry, and others. He was shouting for all he was worth, and didn’t stop even when powerful hands took him by the shoulder. Turning, he saw Brother John looking at him pityingly. Other monks stood behind John. Among them was Gabriel, pale-faced. Farid tore himself away from John. “Let me go, you criminal!” he shouted, moving away until there were two beds between him and John, who wasn’t in fact trying to catch hold of Farid, but was just looking at him with his mouth open.
“Calm down, Barnaba,” begged Gabriel softly, going towards him. Farid backed away. “Mama!” he shouted again, as if out of his mind.
At that moment, far away in Damascus, Claire heard someone calling her. She looked out of her kitchen window, and then went back to the sink.
“Holy Mary Mother of God, I hope nothing’s happened to Farid,” she whispered.
144. A Lioness
When Farid regained consciousness his mouth was parched with thirst, and there was a grey veil over his vision. The dormitory where he was lying was empty. His head felt leaden. He tried to sit up, but found that he couldn’t move his arms and legs. It took him some time to realize that he was strapped down to the bed. Gradually, he remembered someone seizing him from behind while he was speaking to Gabriel. Then he had been thrown on a bed, and they had given him an injection in his upper arm. He had no idea how many hours or days he had been asleep.
Marcel looked in about midday. “Your mother’s here. She’s raising hell,” he whispered, and then he turned and hurried out again.
Soon after that Gabriel turned up, with a rather more powerful monk whom Farid had never seen before. Gabriel was visibly nervous.
‘Your mother has arrived. Did you write her a letter or anything?”
“No,” said Farid, as Gabriel’s stronger companion loosened the buckles of the straps.
“She’s worried, but we don’t want her to see you sick in bed. Can you stand up?” asked Gabriel, as if he were genuinely concerned for Farid’s mother. Farid straightened up. He still felt dazed, but he had to get to Claire. The monk helped him into his habit and did up the buckles of his sandals. Farid wouldn’t let him remove the bandage from his head.