Chapter 7

Simon’s brother acknowledged this relationship with a slow nod, and rose to go. At this, Hannah began weeping again piteously, and Andrew resumed his seat, fumbling awkwardly with his knitted cap. At length he spoke.

‘As you know, he has been very fond of old Zebedee’s boy John, almost as if the youngster was his son. A few days ago Johnny went out into the country to hear this Carpenter who, they say, has been performing miraculous deeds. You have probably heard strange tales about this man. He is said to have been healing the sick.’

‘Pish!’ commented Hannah, drying her eyes.

‘Of course,’ agreed Andrew. ‘Well—Johnny came back and said, in the presence of all of us, that he had seen the Carpenter heal a paralysed arm.’

‘But you didn’t believe it, I hope!’ protested Hannah.

‘Me? No—I did not believe it; but Simon has not been himself since Johnny told the story.’

‘But—surely—Simon wouldn’t take any interest in a thing like that!’ Hannah’s swollen eyes were wide with astonishment. ‘Simon—of all people!’

‘Maybe not,’ said Andrew. ‘Perhaps he has been fretting about Johnny. The boy has quit the fleet. He and his brother James have rented an old boat and are fishing for themselves.’

‘And Simon hasn’t talked about it?’

‘Not to me.’

‘But—what are we going to do, Andrew?’

‘We? We aren’t going to do anything. You may do whatever you like. I intend to keep out of it. My brother is an adult and of sound mind—far as I know. If he wants any advice from me, he will ask for it.’ Andrew got up to go, resolutely this time, and pulled on his fisherman’s cap. Hannah pursued him through the open door and out on to the stoop.

‘He can’t sleep comfortably on that ship,’ she said.

‘In his present state,’ rejoined Andrew, ‘he might not sleep comfortably anywhere.’ He started down the path. ‘Don’t fret about it,’ he flung back. ‘Simon is big enough to look out for himself—without anyone’s help.’

Hannah kept tagging along as far as the gate.

‘Easy enough to say, “Don’t fret.” But that’s all I have to do now that Esther’s gone. She left yesterday—to work at the palace.’

Andrew absently rattled the gate-latch and frowned.

‘I thought she was decent,’ he muttered.

‘Couldn’t she work at the palace and be decent?’

‘Perhaps—for the present,’ conceded Andrew, ‘now that the Tetrarch and his family are gone. They took most of the servants with them.’

‘Maybe that’s why Esther got a job,’ surmised Hannah. ‘I hope she doesn’t fall into trouble there. I didn’t know it was such a wicked place, Andrew. Simon delivers fish at the palace every day. Surely he wouldn’t go there if—’

‘My brother is not a rabbi or a policeman. He is a fisherman. Why should he concern himself with the Tetrarch’s behaviour—so long as he likes fish?’ Andrew grinned with knowledge he would not be sharing with Hannah, and went on, ‘If Simon had to look into the private lives of his customers before selling them fish, he might soon be out of the fish business.’

‘Rather than have anything to do with such nasty people,’ snapped Hannah, ‘I should do just that; go out of the fish business!’

Chuckling a little at this impractical remark, Andrew inquired dryly, as he closed the gate behind him, ‘What other business would you go into?’ And without waiting for a reply, he set off at a brisk walk, for he was starting later than usual and did not want to add the annoyance of his tardiness to his moody brother’s frets.

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