Alex Mitchell - The 13th Tablet

‘Hi,’ said a portly woman wearing an awful purple turtleneck and a matching pair of trousers, ‘how can I help you?’

‘Well’, said Mina, ‘thanks for seeing me at such short notice. It may come as a surprise to you, but I was told about your unit by some scholars in Safed, in Israel.’

‘That makes sense, we work with scholars all over the world. Tell me about your research, Mina.’

‘I’m working on a small 18th century letter written by a Jewish scholar from Cambridge. I thought someone at the Research Unit might be able to point me in the right direction.’

‘Hmm. That’s strange. You see, there were no Jewish scholars, well not officially, in 18th century Cambridge. They only became eligible to study and teach at the University in the late 19th century. The earliest scholar I can think of was a Hungarian rabbi by the name of Solomon Schiller-Szinessy. But we’re talking about the 1860s, not before… what is the name of the scholar?’

‘Hildersham,’ said Mina.

‘I don’t know any scholar by that name. Are you sure about it? It sounds German, a little like Hildersheim or Hildesheim?’

‘No. It’s Hildersham, from Cambridge’ replied Mina.

‘You know, there is a village called Hildersham, about ten miles east of Cambridge, beyond the Gog Magog hills. Maybe your scholar lived there?’

Of course! Mina felt so stupid. She hadn’t even bothered to check if Hildersham was a place. She could easily have googled it and found the answer within a few seconds.

Mina was about to leave and thank her profusely, when the woman remembered one of the unit’s associated researchers.

‘Daniel Bamart is from Hildersham. He might be able to help you out. I’ll give him a call at his office.’

She picked up the phone and dialled his number. While she waited for him to pick up, she asked Mina where she would be in the next two hours. ‘In the Reading Room’, Mina replied.

‘Hi Daniel. How are things? Excellent! Really? Well, I have someone here who might need your help. Are you free later on? Great. Her name is Mina Osman. She’ll be in the Reading Room. In an hour. OK. Thanks. See you around,’ she said. Then she turned to Mina.

‘There you go. He’ll pop by in an hour or so. I hope it helps.’

‘Thank you so much!’ replied Mina, and she walked back down to the Reading Room.

An hour later, Mina noticed a lanky young man observing her from afar. He seemed to be in his late twenties, with a wild mane of ash blond hair and a dreamy air about him. He was handsome in an academic sort of way. Eventually, with much hesitation and an odd mixture of ‘ehms’ and ‘ahhs’, he asked her if her name was Mina Osman.

‘Yes, that’s me. Are you Daniel?’ asked Mina.

‘Yes Daniel Bamart.’ They shook hands, ‘Are you working at the Genizah?’

‘No. I’m doing some research based on a letter I found related to Hildersham. What about you?’

‘Oh, I’m a Hebrew scholar. I was brought up in Cambridge but I studied in Jerusalem. I’m currently working on a joint research project at the unit. To tell you the truth, the person who is most likely to be able to help you is my father.’

‘Really? Why’s that?’ asked Mina.

‘He’s a retired medical doctor but his passion is local history. He could probably answer any questions you have about Hildersham.’

‘Fantastic. When do you think I could visit him?’

‘What about right now?’ Daniel asked her tentatively.

‘Great!’

‘OK. I’ll drive you down there, I was off to see him anyway,’ he lied.

‘You’re sure he won’t mind me arriving unannounced?’ Mina asked.

‘No. Really. He’s retired you know; lots of time on his hands.’

‘OK. Let’s go then.’

They drove for twenty minutes in a slight drizzle. Mina watched the countryside rolling by on the eastern road out of Cambridge. She looked up and noticed dark clouds gathering in the sky. Daniel turned off the main road into Hildersham. They passed a small bridge, a few houses and he parked the car outside a charming old cottage, with a small brass plaque that read ‘Mulberry Cottage.’

‘The door’s always unlocked. My dad doesn’t believe in break-ins,’ Daniel said with a sigh.

They entered the cottage and walked through to a comfortable living room. Its centuries old white-washed walls were covered in black-and-white framed landscape photographs. Daniel’s father was asleep in an armchair, a book lying across his lap. Daniel woke him up gently.

‘Hi dad. It’s me.’

Dr Bamart smiled at his son.

‘Hi Daniel. I didn’t expect you until this evening.’

Daniel blushed.

‘I’ve brought a friend, Mina,’ he said to his father.

The old man rose from his armchair to take a closer look at Mina.

‘Daniel, where are your manners?’ said the man to Daniel, then, turning to Mina, ‘Good afternoon, I’m Joshua Bamart, Daniel’s father.’

‘And I’m Mina Osman, from New York. I’m doing research at the University Library, partly about Hildersham. Your son told me you might be able to help me and kindly drove me here to meet you.’

The old man puffed up his chest.

‘I’d be delighted to help you. I have huge archives upstairs which concern the history of this village and some of the neighbouring villages. I’m sure you’ll dig out your answer somewhere in there. Would you like a nice cup of tea first?’

‘Yes please,’ said Mina.

An hour and several cups of tea later, Mina was feeling guilty again. The more Dr Bamart was kind to her, the more she felt phoney and guilty about her lame research topic. The man was clever and so was his son. They were bound to realise she was lying. Bamart asked her where she was staying.

‘In a guest house off Station Road,’ Mina replied.

‘Oh. How dreadful. How long do you intend to stay in Cambridge?’

‘Two weeks. Actually, it is pretty depressing. You wouldn’t know of any nice accommodation in Cambridge?’

‘Why don’t you stay here, with us? We have two guest bedrooms. You wouldn’t be in the city centre but you’d have peace and quiet.’

‘That would be very nice. How much do you charge per night?’ asked Mina.

‘No no, dear me, I don’t usually rent out the rooms, they’re for guests.’

‘Oh, I see. I couldn’t, Dr Bamart.’

‘Hush hush. Call me Joshua. Frankly, now that I’m retired I miss company and if you promise to cook a Middle Eastern meal for me one evening, you’re most welcome to stay here for two weeks.’

Mina was moved by the old man’s kindness and thinking back to the horrible room that awaited her, was relieved to accept his offer.

‘In that case, I accept, on condition that I can cook more than one meal before I leave.’

Daniel felt over the moon as she said those words.

‘Well, now that’s all settled, you ought to bring your belongings from your guest house,’ said Joshua. ‘Daniel, can you drive Miss Osman back into town?’

‘Of course dad,’ he answered, and to Mina, ‘Come on Mina, I’ll drive you now.’

‘Thanks Daniel,’ she said.

As they got into the car, Mina thanked Daniel for his hospitality.

‘It’s a real pleasure. I should have thought of it myself. By the way, I’m really sorry about this, but you’ll need to catch a bus on the way back here. I’ve got things to take care of, but I’d love to have lunch with you tomorrow if you’re around.’

‘Of course. That would be great,’ answered Mina.

Mina spent a very entertaining evening in Joshua’s company. Her host had cooked a delicious vegetarian feast. They drank wine and talked about the many countries they had travelled to. He seemed so different from his son. He wore thick rimmed glasses, and was as short and plump as his son was tall and slim. He was a funny old man and was totally at ease in her company, probably due to his many years as a country doctor, used to seeing patients at home. He told her about his wife, Esther, a beautiful New York artist ‘with a dreadful temper,’ She’d died ten years ago but they had shared thirty blissful years together. He never remarried and since her death he rarely entertained guests. He enjoyed living with his memories and seeing his beloved Daniel whenever he was in the country. After dinner, they went for a walk along the river towards the nearby village of Linton. The night was cold and damp but the stars were shining in the pitch black sky. Mina wished Jack were there with her. They could have walked together under the stars. ‘God I miss you,’ she thought, looking up at the night sky and wondering where he was.