Remember Me

 

 

Text copyright © 2012 Penelope Wilcock
This edition copyright © 2015 Lion Hudson

The right of Penelope Wilcock to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

All the characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Published by Lion Fiction
an imprint of
Lion Hudson plc
Wilkinson House, Jordan Hill Road
Oxford OX2 8DR, England
www.lionhudson.com/fiction

ISBN 978 1 78264 152 0
e-ISBN 978 1 78264 153 7

This edition 2015

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Cover illustration © Brian Gallagher

 

 

“If Penelope's goal was to bring the hope that only Jesus can offer, please know she has been successful. She has this way of being able to authentically portray the human heart and all of its struggles that leaves one full of hope and love. That is not easily done—thank you. Excellent book. I loved it.”

Mary Gliserman, Dean of Faculty, Vice-Principal, and teacher, The Daniel Academy associated with the International House of Prayer, Kansas City

 

“Penelope Wilcock has penned a wonderful medieval series. In
Remember Me
, she explores the struggle of a monk who has chosen his vocation wrongly to face the implications of his choice. The flavour of medieval and monastic life in Wilcock's work is to savour anew with each volume.”

Mel Starr, author,
The Unquiet Bones
,
A Corpse at St Andrew's Chapel
, and
A Trail of Ink

 

“Magically beautiful, tender, and exquisitely drawn; full of teaching on love and forgiveness and almost every page brought a smile to my lips. I have fallen in love with all the books and I think Father William's journey, interlaced with Abbot John's, is the best I have read.”

Sue Ridley, Sussex, United Kingdom

 

“These books are not only ‘a good read', but also touch on the deeper truths that profit us for eternity.”

Benedictine Abbess, Kent, United Kingdom

 

“We devoured the books, passing them on from one to another, identifying with the characters, appropriating their idiosyncrasies and easily recognizing parallel situations in community life. Congratulations to Penelope for so faithfully describing the phenomenon called monastic life—and for grabbing the heart of it with its daily struggles and surprises, its hopes and fears, its strengths and weaknesses—a microcosm of the human experience.”

A Sister of Thicket Priory Carmelite Monastery, Yorkshire, United Kingdom

 

 

 

 

FOR
ELVIRA McINTOSH

 

who never gave up searching for me
but went on until she found me
who lifted me up and encouraged me
who supported me as a writer—which is what I am
who understands Christ's call to community
and also to simplicity
and who looks for ways
to bring the Gospel to ordinary people
exactly as she finds them
and where they are.
God bless you, Elvira, and thank you.

Remember Me

Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom
Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom

Taizé chant of the words of the Thief on the Cross

 

Do this to remember me.

Words of Jesus at the institution of the Eucharist

 

If you find it in your heart to care for somebody else,
you will have succeeded.

Maya Angelou

 

Some stories are true that never happened.

Elie Wiesel

 

Dying is a wild night and a new road.

Emily Dickinson

 

Accept me, Lord, as thou hast promised,
and I shall truly live.

Benedictine Suscipe

 

Can you not find it within you to look with eyes
of compassion?

Tony Collins

 

There is no fear in love.

1 John 4:18

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Remember Me

 

The Community of St Alcuin's Abbey

Chapter One: July

Chapter Two: August

Chapter Three: September

Chapter Four: October

Chapter Five: November

Chapter Six: December

Glossary of Terms

Monastic Day

Liturgical Calendar

The Community of St Alcuin's Abbey

(Not all members are mentioned in
Remember Me
.)

 

Fully professed monks

Fully professed monks now confined to the infirmary through frailty of old age

Novices

Members of the community mentioned in earlier stories and now deceased

 

Abbot Gregory of the Resurrection
Abbot Columba du Fayel (also known as Father Peregrine)

C
HAPTER
O
NE

July

Like a subtle wraith of mist in the still-dark of the night in late July he stole: silent and fleet, not hesitating. He came from the northwest corner of the church, where a small door led out into the abbey court from the side of the narthex. He did not cross the court, but passed stealthily along the walk between the yew hedge and the perimeter wall. Swift and noiseless he slipped along the close. It was a clear night but the dark of the moon, and only the stars gave light at this hour of the morning. At the end of Lauds, as the brothers shuffled back up the night stairs to resume their sleep, he had abstracted himself so unobtrusively that no one had seen. He had dodged back into the nave and stood in the deep shadows of the arcade in the side aisle on the north side of the church, hardly breathing. When all was still, he opened the small door with utmost caution; sliding the bolts back slowly and steadily without a sound, drawing the door closed and lifting and dropping the latch with barely a click, he left, and he was outside in the freshness of the night. Such faint light as the stars gave out found his silver hair, but that was the only glimmer of his presence as he slid from the abbey court along the close.

Peartree Cottage stood in the middle of the row of houses. The wicket gate stood ajar, and he pushed it open without a sound. As he stepped into the garden, the herbs gave up their fragrance underfoot. He felt a slug fall into his sandal. He stooped to flick out the slug and to scratch up a handful of earth that he flung at the upstairs window. No response. He tried again. This time the casement was opened with irritable vigour from the inside, and Madeleine's voice said sharply, “Who is it?”

Peering down suspiciously into the garden she might not have seen him, but he moved very slightly and most quietly spoke her name.

“Whatever do
you
want?” she whispered then, surprised.

“Will you let me in?” She heard the soft-spoken words. And as she came in the dark down the narrow ladder stairway, she realized the implications of this visit. Naturally cautious, she asked herself,
Are you sure you welcome this?
Just in going down the stairs, in opening the door, she realized her heart was saying,
Yes
.