When it came to Mummer’s turn she remained standing. Father Bernard looked at her and then dipped the chalice into the water and stood up to face her.
‘Drink this water, the healing balm of Christ,’ he said, giving her the invitation he had given to everyone.
‘Amen,’ said Mummer and sipped until the chalice was empty.
There was only Hanny left. Farther lit the candle Mr and Mrs Belderboss had given him and Mummer took off his coat, so that she could rearrange the collar of his new shirt. Smiling at her son, she tidied his hair and with a kiss on his forehead, she turned him to face Father Bernard.
‘He’s ready now, Father.’
Father Bernard held out his hand.
‘Andrew,’ he said, over the sound of the water. ‘Come and kneel down here by me.’
Hanny stood clutching his candle.
‘Andrew?’ Father Bernard said again. And this time Mummer nudged Hanny and pointed to where he should go. Hanny looked at me and I nodded.
Father Bernard held Hanny’s hand as he went cow-heavy to his knees.
‘Alright Andrew,’ he said, pressing lightly on the back of Hanny’s head to make him bow down. ‘Don’t be afraid now. God is with you.’
He kept one hand on Hanny’s head and held out the other for the mug Mummer had brought. The one with the London bus on the side. He dipped the cup into the well and brought it out.
‘Now, Andrew,’ he said, allowing Hanny to lift his head. ‘Would you drink this for me?’
Hanny looked at him. I could see his eyes widening. He turned round to find me, but Mummer snapped at him. ‘Andrew. Remember what I said.’
‘God wants to heal you, Andrew,’ Mrs Belderboss said.
‘Go on, son,’ said Farther. ‘It won’t hurt.’
Hanny shook his head.
‘Just a sip now, Andrew. That’s all,’ Father Bernard tried to put the mug into Hanny’s free hand, but Hanny panicked and knocked it away and the mug smashed against the stone wall.
He got up, threw the candle aside, and made for the steps. Miss Bunce squawked. David tried to stop him, but Hanny easily pushed him aside, and sent him sprawling onto the mossy floor.
Before I could go after him myself, Mummer was up the steps and I felt Father Bernard’s hand on my arm.
‘Let her fetch him,’ he said.
I could hear Mummer shouting at Hanny. She hadn’t run after him. She didn’t need to.
Farther and Miss Bunce helped David to his feet. His trousers were coated in filth and his lip was cut and bleeding where he had fallen against the wall. Miss Bunce felt around inside the pockets of her cagoule and brought out a tissue and dabbed at his mouth. I could see her face reddening and she was about to say something when Mummer appeared at the top of the steps gripping Hanny’s elbow.
‘He’s going to try again,’ Mummer said.
‘I don’t know if now’s the best time, Mrs Smith,’ said Father Bernard. ‘We’re all a bit upset. Perhaps I should bring Andrew on his own tomorrow.’
Mummer smiled thinly. ‘No, we can’t do that, Father. We’re going home tomorrow.’
‘Right enough,’ said Father Bernard. ‘But I can drive Andrew here before we go. I’m sure no one will mind me slipping away for a wee while.’
The others shook their heads.
‘I don’t mind,’ said Mrs Belderboss.
‘It might be better to bring the lad tomorrow,’ Mr Belderboss said. ‘Without everyone watching.’
‘We’re here now,’ said Mummer, aware that Miss Bunce was glaring at her. ‘We’ve made a special effort to come and I’d like Andrew to take the water.’
Farther put his hand on Mummer’s back.
‘Come on, Esther,’ he said. ‘Don’t upset yourself.’
‘I’m not upset.’
‘Look,’ said Father Bernard. ‘Why don’t we go back to the house? It looks like it’s going to rain any minute.’
‘No,’ said Mummer. ‘I’m sorry, Father, but he is to take the water and that’s that. He is not going to spoil the day.’
‘Ah, come on, Mrs Smith, he’s hardly doing that now is he?’
‘Isn’t he?’
‘It’s not his fault.’
‘Why? Because he’s too stupid to know what he’s doing?’
‘I never said that.’
‘Not in so many words.’
‘Mrs Smith …’
She grabbed Hanny and took him over to the well, fending off Father Bernard’s appeasements with a wave of her hand. She upturned a jam jar of dead daffodils and knelt down and filled it from the well. The water spun with sediment and grime.
‘Open your mouth,’ Mummer said sharply. ‘Look at me.’
Hanny looked at up her and started to cry.
‘Stop it,’ said Mummer. ‘What’s the matter with you? Don’t you want to get better?’
Hanny turned to get away again, but Mummer held his arm and looked over to Father Bernard.
‘Well, help me,’ she said, but he looked away.
‘Careful Esther,’ said Mrs Belderboss. ‘You’re hurting him.’
Mummer tightened her grip and then more so again, as though she was bringing a wayward dog to heel. Slowly, Hanny opened his mouth.
‘Wider,’ said Mummer, pinching his cheeks in so that his jaw opened.
‘Esther, stop it,’ said Mr Belderboss.
‘Please, Esther,’ Mrs Belderboss cried and then turned away, her eyes full of tears.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, just drink it,’ said Mummer.
Hanny closed his eyes and screwed up his face the way he did when he had to take Milk of Magnesia. Mummer carefully poured the water in, as though she was measuring it. Hanny coughed and choked and then spat the water into her eyes.
Mummer blinked and stretched her face, but said nothing. Instead, she screwed the lid on the half full jar of water and put it in her pocket. Father Bernard was leading everyone quietly out of the shrine. I took Hanny by the hand and followed them. Only Farther stayed behind, staring at his wife.
Chapter Twenty-three
Despite Father Bernard’s best efforts to persuade them to stay, Miss Bunce and David packed their things and he drove them to the station in Lancaster to catch the sleeper train.
A heavy despondency filled Moorings to the brim and when I couldn’t stand it any longer I went to bed, leaving Mummer and Farther and Mr and Mrs Belderboss to talk glumly in the sitting room.
Hanny was fast asleep, exhausted by what had happened at the shrine. I watched him for a while but must have dropped off quickly myself.
I had been asleep for about an hour when I heard someone coming into the room. It was Mummer. She was carrying a steaming cup on a tray. She looked at me and made a motion with her hand that I should lie back down.
‘What are you doing?’ I said.
‘Giving Andrew a cup of tea.’
‘He’s asleep.’
Mummer shushed me and went and sat on the edge of Hanny’s bed. She watched him sleeping for a minute and then took out the jam jar of water. She tipped some of it into the tea and set the cup on the bedside table. The rest of the water she trickled into her hand and, using her finger, traced a cross very gently on Hanny’s forehead.
He stirred a little and half woke. Mummer hushed him. Hanny settled again and went completely still, his consciousness sliding back down into the drains of sleep.
She ought to have left him alone. He was so worn out by what had happened at the shrine that he looked dead. His face had the same awful slackness as Father Wilfred’s the day Mummer and the others went to wash his body in preparation for burial.
I had been made to go too, to help the visiting priest that had been sent by the bishop to oversee the ablutions. It would do no harm, said Mummer, for the bishop to know she had a capable son when the time came for me to be thinking of a career in the clergy.