The Woman who Loved an Octopus and other Saint's Tales Read Online Free Page A

was pitch dark. There wasn’t a sound except for the whispering of the sea outside.
    My ears were ringing with words.

    The sky next morning as I walked to chapel was the palest shade of aquamarine. The morning was cold and clear and exquisite.
    As soon as she saw me, her eyes became round as marbles and she opened her mouth and drew breath to talk.
    I nodded a greeting, sat down and lowered my head in prayer.

    After the service, there was no holding her.
    â€˜I had the strangest dream last night,’ she said. ‘I saw the two of us walking away from here together, on to the mainland. And then I heard a voice...’ She looked at me. ‘Do you ever have... you know, visions?’
    I shook my head.
    â€˜I do,’ she said. ‘The Goddess shows me things, sometimes.’ She stopped and looked at me. ‘She has got plans for us. I’m so glad! I was hoping something would happen. That’s why I came here to the island. It’s supposed to be a holy place. I was hoping for a miracle.’ She gave me a radiant smile. ‘And now I’ve got one.’

    All day long I sat on the mountain by the Saint’s cave, praying and straining to listen, but in vain. My ears were closed to the music of the spheres.

    That night in my dreams, I saw myself being led away; not on a path of light this time, but an ordinary tarmac road in the drizzle. There were hills on both sides and mountains rising before us; and no sign of the sea anywhere.
    Follow the road I have laid down for you.
    The mountains drew closer together. A valley opened up in front of us.
    Build my church here.
    I awoke. It was dark.
    I got up, pulled on my clothes. I found my torch by touch and let myself out.
    The air was dark and cold, the sky brilliant with stars. The chapel windows glowed golden. When I pushed the door open, there was warmth and light. Somebody had lit the candles.
    She was kneeling by the altar, head bowed, lost in prayer. She did not look up when I came in and pulled the door closed after me.
    I knelt down, attempted to empty my mind of all thought. There was a great rushing in my ears like a waterfall. It was not the music of the spheres. It was the noise made by my fear.
    Lord, into Your hands I commend my spirit.

    â€˜You saw it too,’ she said as we walked away from the chapel after morning service. Her smile shone. Her earrings tinkled.
    I raised my eyebrows. Her display of joy struck me as almost unseemly.
    â€˜I know you did. Aren’t you delighted? I’m so happy.’
    I said nothing.
    â€˜It was the same as last night, like a dream; but it wasn’t a dream. The two of us, walking towards this place in the mountains. It’s drizzling and cloudy, and then we come to a valley and the voice says, Build my temple here .’ She turned to me. ‘She’s calling us. She has chosen us.’
    I broke my silence again, offering up a prayer for forgiveness at the same time. ‘Perhaps He is calling you .’
    â€˜Us,’ she repeated. ‘She, He – it doesn’t matter. She’s calling you and me.’
    â€˜That is absurd,’ I said, and added as an afterthought, ‘I have renounced the world.’
    â€˜You can renounce the world without fleeing from it.’
    â€˜I am not fleeing from it. I have come here where it’s quiet and far away from most things.’ How would she understand? How could I share a vision with this hippie? I never see visions. I am not given to them. ‘I feel closer to God here than anywhere else.’
    â€˜God – the Goddess.’ She tipped her head back, opened her arms wide. The morning sunshine lay on the planes of her face. ‘They’re only names. You have been led here. By God, you would say. By the Goddess, I would say. By the Creative Spirit who is neither male nor female, who resides in all of us.’
    The Spirit. I must subdue my spirit.
    â€˜You must follow it,’ she