The Night Before

This place is so quiet I can hear every shuffle and creak even with all these people here. The tension makes it hard to breathe. Look at Andrew, staring down at his hands and fidgeting. Hands like that are made for action. How can he stand the strain of sitting and waiting? I feel like jumping about, or crying, or screaming. Anything to loosen this strangling expectancy. But I don't want to distract them. Martha's not comfortable and it shows. Fiddling with her collar and scratching her neck. She never likes waiting around. She's the busiest woman I know and I can't ever remember seeing her sit still.

We did well to find this room right in the middle of the city. Those stairs leading up from the back alley make it quite secret, but we're in striking distance of all the important places. No one's likely to burst in on us here. We're all keyed up, though I'm sure there's no reason to be afraid. Everyone slipped in separately during the night and we won't have been seen. We're all friends, known and trusted. No informers. I'm the only one anybody could have doubts about. I'm amazed they let me in after I let the side down. I felt bad enough anyway, but the shame got right into my gut when they took me back and made me welcome. If they'd treated me badly I could have taken it. But they forgave me, and that really hurt.

Nobody's looking at me. Come to think of it, they're avoiding eye contact with anyone; looking at the floor; staring at their hands; gazing at the roof beams. The last few weeks have been agony. Things have never been easy, but the old hardships sound good compared with what we've just been through. Perhaps I should have got away when I had the chance. Gone fishing or something. But the old life would never be the same. Anyway, I couldn't run away from this lot after all we've been through together. No, we agreed to stick it out and wait for the big break, and that's supposed to come today. Now the waiting's almost over I don't know whether to hope or fear what's coming. John looks incredibly serene; I wish I could be like him - always the optimist.

What a night this has been. I feel stiff and tired and I just want it to be all over. Looking at the light round those shutters it's probably dawn already, and it is the day of Pentecost.