The Pilgrimage

‘It all looks the same around here,’ said Joe. ‘It’s just… nowhere.’1

A beautiful kind of nowhere, thought Rachel. She squinted at the perfectly flat, endlessly green horizon, punctuated only by trees and hedgerows. The silence was so absolute that Rachel imagined she was inside a painting. The morning light made everything crisp and clear, as if everything from the furrows of the fields to where the sun shone through the foliage had been outlined with black drawing pen. The clouds were so perfect against the blue that it was easy to imagine the peaks and wisps were brushstrokes.2

‘My feet hurt,’ said Joe. ‘And I hope you’re not thirsty, because I drank all the water. I don’t suppose there are any toilets around here…?’3

It seemed even the birds were holding their breath to preserve the total calm, and here they were, recklessly disturbing it with their trespassing footprints and harsh, human voices.4

‘Lost church. Tuh. I don’t see any church, do you?’ said Joe. ‘That old woman who told us was clearly a nutter. Let’s just go back to the pub – I noticed it was two meals for the price of one at lunchtime –’5

‘Joe, just – just shut up, OK?’ said Rachel. ‘Just enjoy the walk.’6

‘We could get murdered out here, and nobody would ever know, you know,’ said Joe. ‘There was something sinister about that woman –’7

‘Fine! Fine, let’s go back to the bloody pub,’ said Rachel, stopping in her tracks. ‘Though you’ll be eating on your own, because right now you’re driving me crazy.’8

Joe went quiet.9

‘What?’ Rachel demanded. ‘What now?’10

‘I don’t want to eat on my own,’ said Joe. ‘It’s buy one get one free. I can’t eat two meals.’11

Rachel began to walk back towards the village, but Joe didn’t follow her.12

‘Well, come on, then!’ said Rachel.13

‘No,’ said Joe. ‘I don’t want to go to the pub now. You’ve spoiled it.’14

‘Well, what do you want to do, then?’15

‘I don’t know…’ Joe murmured, staring at his muddy walking boots. ‘…Look for the church?’16

*17

‘So, you like it here, yes?’ 18

The old lady who worked in the village grocery shop had struck up conversation yesterday morning, smiling kindly as Joe and Rachel paid for their Happy Shopper biscuits and a pint of milk. 19

‘Yes, it’s very beautiful around here,’ said Rachel, smiling politely.20

‘This is an very old, old place, you know,’ the old lady said, nodding wisely while Joe stifled a snigger. It felt like Joe and Rachel were the youngest in the village by at least fifty years; on arrival they had felt as if they’d violated the dress code by not owning a beige anorak or cardigan. This particular old lady seemed especially ancient; her whole body drooped downwards as if the only thing keeping her alive was her stubbornness to fight gravity, and her skin was so shrivelled that given another year, her human features would be indistinguishable. She hobbled with a cane, and wore a long, black dress with a high neck that looked like it pre-dated the First World War. Rachel could easily imagine this very shop adorned with quaint Victorian advertising posters, this very woman serving behind the counter, weighing by the pound on a set of shimmering scales.21

‘There’s lots of history around these parts,’ said the lady. ‘Well, if you’re willing to look for it.’22

‘Yes,’ said Rachel. ‘It’s very interesting.’23

‘My family has been here since the Domesday Book,’ said the old lady. ‘I’m a direct descendent of Richard de Lacey. He was a Lord in the old village, you know.’24

‘The old village?’25

‘Yes, you must have heard about the old village,’ said the lady. ‘It was abandoned after the Black Death ravaged it, though the church is still there.’26

‘Really? Wow.’27

‘And a fair few ghosts too, so I’m told,’ the lady continued to prattle, and then paused thoughtfully. ‘My nephew once told me it was home to the archaeological remains of Britain’s first KFC,’ she said, stroking her chin. They smiled, and waited for her permission to laugh, but she was unwaveringly serious; Joe had to promptly shove a Happy Shopper biscuit into his mouth to stifle his giggles.28

‘Yes, oh, yes,’ said the lady. ‘It’s a beautiful place, the old church. Used to go to mass there every Sunday when I was a girl. But then the Vicar died, and this being a small place, we didn’t get a new one. People aren’t interested in going to church these days, are they?’29

‘No, I don’t suppose they are,’ said Rachel.30

‘It’s all David Beckingham and internet porn nowadays.’31

Joe shoved another biscuit in his mouth.32

‘Where is this church?’ asked Rachel.33

Now it was the old lady’s turn to laugh. ‘If I could remember that, I’d be as sprightly as you, my dear!’34

*35

‘Let’s go through there,’ said Rachel, pointing towards a dense patch of woods.36

‘No way!’ said Joe.37

‘Why not?’38

‘Well… it’s… dark, and… scary.’39

It was true. Everywhere else was bathed in the midday sun, but the woods seemed to deflect it, like it was wrapped in a magical force field. Rachel shivered - it was colder here, too.40

‘We’ll never get out alive,’ said Joe. ‘I’ve seen this film before. I don’t want to get sacrificed at the altar of some weird haunted church. That old lady looked like a Satan worshipper to me. She’s luring us with her evil, Rachel. She’s lurking in the bushes waiting to gut us with a knife.’41

‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Rachel. ‘We’ll have to walk all the way around if we don’t go through these trees. It’s a short cut.’42

She took Joe’s hand and dragged him through a small gap in the bushes. He gave out exaggerated howls as he scraped his shins on the brambles, and yelped even more ridiculously when Rachel elbowed him in the stomach.43

‘I hope we don’t find any dead bodies,’ said Joe. ‘You know I’m faint-hearted – I’ll throw up all over you. You think this is some kind of magic church, don’t you? You think we’re going to get there and it’ll be Brigadoon, or something –’44

The ground undulated with a dense network of tree roots that seemed to be colluding to trip them over. It took a good twenty minutes of wading through thick undergrowth before they came to a more open space where the sun could penetrate. Rachel frowned; the way the ivy had grown along the ground was very odd, reaching upward towards the sun in a series of monoliths. It looked like a field of foot soldiers, all different shapes and sizes, but standing to attention in the same green uniform.45

‘Weird, huh?’ she breathed. For the first time all morning, they could hear the birds singing.46

‘It’s – it’s a –’47

‘Graveyard,’ Rachel finished Joe’s sentence. ‘But where’s the church?’48

‘Over there!’ Joe gasped in amazement, pointing towards the treetops. Camouflaged amongst the greenery was a monumental tower of ivy and lichen. As they moved towards it they could make out the carcass of a church was behind it, decaying and crippled under the weight of the vines.49

‘Wow,’ said Joe. It was the first serious thing he had said all day.50