that the chapel up ahead? The one we went into after our Walk on the Beach?” Her voice put an importance into that event that they both understood. Daniel nodded.
“May we stop and go in? To give thanks again?”
“Good idea” said Daniel.
“Good idea” said Trynor and Jotin together. “But not for the reasons you think,” continued Trynor.
The carts were pulled up to the door of the chapel and Eloise was helped down. Her mother in law in an uncharacteristic burst of generosity offered to hold the baby, but Eloise insisted on bringing her into the chapel, so the little family went in together. Daniel’s mother stayed beside the cart, giving orders and fussing about the picnic baskets, hoping for compliments on her lunch arrangements from the ladies in the carriages. The other young people got down and walked about and sized each other up. No one seemed to feel the need of prayer.
It was cool inside the little chapel and the sun slanted in from one of the side windows, lighting up the flagged floor and the few simple seats. Someone had left a jug on the altar, with some wild flowers in it and they were drooping a little. Eloise went over to the side of the little church and sat facing a statue of Mary, who looked down on her with stony peacefulness.
“Our Father, which art in heaven…” she began, her eyes shut and her lips barely moving as the familiar words soothed her. Daniel knelt beside her and joined in. Marie-Claire lay on her mother’s lap, her eyes open wide, as she listened to a voice only she could hear.
“Marie-Claire” said Mohmi, hovering beside the baby’s head, “you do not need to be in a church to hear me now and I want you to remember, when you get bigger, that I will talk to you always, not just in churches. Your parents have forgotten, like the others. Maybe you will be one of the few who will always hear us?” The baby waved her arms and gurgled.
Eloise looked down as she continued to pray, and hugged her baby.
“…the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Look, Daniel, Marie-Claire is joining in! She wants to thank God too. Holy Mary, Mother of God….”
“No, Eloise, she is talking to her guide. So could you. Better still, you could listen. I’ll wait till you finish your prayer. Just keep quiet after it, would you, and not start gabbling again?” Trynor waited, leaning up against the statue, smiling down at Eloise. Jotin was prowling the chapel, waiting for the prayer to stop.
“Amen” said Daniel and Eloise, and they sat for a moment in silence.
“Eloise, do not go to the beach,” said Trynor, “you would be happier in the meadow behind this chapel. You could dance there without a shadow of memory.”
Eloise shifted in her seat. A picture had come into her mind of the dance in the village square and she felt a frisson of happiness.
“Why are you wasting good chances worrying about the beach?” Jotin was frowning at Trynor. “They will not like it and they will go somewhere else. It does not matter, really.” He turned towards Daniel. “Listen Daniel,” he said urgently, putting out a hand towards Daniel’s back and stroking him gently, “I want you to listen to the farm workers when they come to talk to you about their wages. Be fair to them. Discuss with Eloise how to treat them, she will understand. I’ll remind you, I’ll be there. When I stroke you, you will remember, please?”
“He might,” said Trynor. “Then again, he might not. It’s too vague. Much easier to concentrate on immediate things. Like the picnic. Talk to him about the workers when they are with him.”
“Oh, I will. But he just doesn’t listen when he is not in a church, haven’t you noticed? Not since he was a baby. We have to use our opportunities.”
“Yes, I suppose so. At least they do listen a bit when they are in here. Once they stop talking.”
“Isn’t that the truth? They are so uncomfortable with silence, always having to fill it with something. Quick, they’re leaving!” Trynor and Jotin rushed over to Eloise and Daniel and started to talk, rapidly adding suggestions, one after another.
“They won’t hear anything, if you say so much,” said Mohmi. “Isn’t that right, my precious?” She smiled down at the baby, who cooed back up at her again.
“You are a precious thing, my little treasure,” Eloise snuggled her face down into