The Missing Madonna, Chapter 14 'The Refugees'

We were stopped at the gate to the city. My heart was in my mouth. A soldier and a customs official made Joseph unpack all our belongings and the official said we’d have to pay two silver shekels tax. I didn’t know we had to pay to enter a city in our own country – after all, everything we bought had a tax on it. Joseph argued, I’m sure he suspected that the official and soldier were taking advantage of us – they must have thought we were ignorant peasants and when they found our money, thought they were on to a good thing and insisted on a 5% tax on everything we were taking into the city. Joseph bargained with them and eventually they accepted 2% which made me think they weren’t entitled to anything, but we were nervous of them discovering who we were and detaining us for questioning by Herod’s soldiers who were said to be garrisoned in the city.

Eventually they let us pass through the imposing gateway and once inside we were immediately surrounded by a gaggle of scruffily dressed young men who revealed themselves to be touts for various inns and lodging houses, all of which were promised to us as cheap and top class quality. We tried to brush them off, but they followed us as we moved forward and Joshua began to howl, frightened at their importunity. We therefore made the best of it and allowed ourselves to be guided by the most insistent of them to ‘his’ inn, a dwelling which looked no different to the others crowded together in a smelly area of the city. The lane was filthy with refuse and animal dung, but we were too tired and frightened to object and at least we were given a small room and promised a meal once we had unpacked and I’d fed Joshua, changed his soiled clothes and settled him in the wooden cot that the innkeeper brought in for us.

The meal was pretty basic, but at least there was plenty of bread so we did not retire hungry. The wine was too acidic for me and of poor quality, but I forced myself to gulp down sufficient as we’d not had much to drink en route that day. I was worried how much we’d be charged for the night, especially as we’d already had to give money to our guide who’d brought us here. I heard Joseph bartering with the innkeeper as his wife was clearing the pots away and I gathered that Joseph was relieved that the cost was not exorbitant. At last we were on our own and Joshua was well away – he was so still I worried at first that something was wrong, but I lay my ear on his chest and felt his gentle breathing.

The relief of at least being in a shelter and now two full days away from Bethlehem allowed us to relax and I was comforted when Joseph cuddled up to me and we lay silently for an hour or more, just man and wife together. For a few minutes we forgot the cares of the day and ceased our worrying about the morrow; then, before I was hardly aware of sleeping, dawn was breaking and I could hear Joshua stirring. Joseph wanted to get us on our way early – he had discussed our route with the innkeeper the previous night and had been told that the city of Gaza was on the main highway to the south, about twenty Roman miles away. As I had no idea of what that meant, Joseph explained that it would be a good day’s journey for us. He’d also confirmed our suspicions that the customs official had no right to charge us tax for entering the city – there was a tax included in our tariff for the night’s stay. We were warned not to yield to any such demands on leaving the city and to resist any attempt to charge us when we got to Gaza. However, we were also warned that we’d have to pay at the border town as we entered Egypt and that we should conserve sufficient cash for that purpose or we’d find ourselves turned back.

I’d noticed that we’d passed some vegetable sellers as we were being led to our lodgings and I could smell bread-making over the powerful stench of a refuse strewn stream that trickled nearby. We stopped to buy sufficient bread for our day’s journey and also grapes, figs and milk. I worried about how much cash we had left but Joseph assured me that we’d be alright until we got to Egypt but he’d need to find work as soon as possible after our arrival there. We managed to pass through the city gate without being molested this time, joining a couple of merchants and slipping through while they were arguing with a different custom officer. I think we were not bothered this time because, compared with the merchants, we obviously had little to offer and were not worth stopping when there were potentially richer pickings to be had.

We joined the highway heading south, Joshua already mounted happily on our donkey, as the sun rose to our left. The lad seems content, it’s all a big adventure for him. He doesn’t appear to miss Benjamin yet. Perhaps when the novelty has worn off, he will be homesick and fretful. There’s a lot of traffic on the road, mainly merchant trains heading in both directions, their camels and donkeys heavily laden. Within the first hour we’ve already passed a couple of military platoons but they’ve paid no heed to us and I’m beginning to believe that we’re not being sought by Herod’s men after all.

The road is good and flat and we make excellent progress during the morning. There is a slight breeze from the west off the sea, which is not actually in sight, but the innkeeper said it was always only a few leagues distant. I feel safe here, there are lots of people about, the visibility is good and I can see a long distance in each direction. We pass a few villages and we refill our waterskins. I think we must be at least half-way to our night’s destination before the sun is at its zenith. We stop under a fig tree and rest a while in its shade when the heat becomes oppressive and I let Joshua run around and stretch his legs. He is excited to be let loose and dashes around aimlessly at first, then he nuzzles up to the donkey and I have to prise him away lest the animal kick out and injure him. I carry him to the other side of the tree where he finds amusement poking the scratchy grass and watching the insects scurry away.

I’m reminded of the time when, as a girl, I used to go to my favourite fig tree and watch the insects while I let my uncle’s sheep and goats graze. I have a guilty conscience then, for that’s where I always used to talk to God, and I realise since we left Bethlehem that I’ve really neglected him. I’ve said a few panicky prayers when I’ve worried we were in danger, but I haven’t spent time talking to him as I did every day before we fled from Herod. So when I’m sure Joshua is safe, I sit cross-legged and begin to share my thoughts with God because I know he listens to me.

“Look at Joshua,” I say to him under my breath, “isn’t he a fine boy? You’ve promised that he’ll be our Messiah. Keep him safe, please, dear God, keep all of us safe. We’ve set off into the great unknown, the big adventure. Thank you for holding us in your arms so far. Thank you that Joseph is so strong, that he knows what to do.”

Then I’m quiet because I think I can hear God talking, whispering through the branches of the tree above me. He just seems to be saying ‘Trust me like you did when you were bearing Joshua.’ I stare at the boy moving so gracefully through the shadows cast by the branches. It is as if he is dancing. ‘Oh dear, God, I’ve neglected you in all the rush to get away. I’ve hardly had time to stop and think. I feel very guilty about it, God, because I’m sure you’re still thinking and caring for us. Please keep on looking after Joshua and Joseph and me, as we travel to this new land. Help us to see your plan, show us the way, give us the strength.’ I’ve allowed myself to get all keyed up and worried when I should have trusted God just as I did when I was in Nazareth. I breathe out and let myself go all limp. I try to relax. I close my eyes, then open them again, lie back and stare at the blue sky that is seeping through the tracery of the tree above me.

Once more I just watch and I’m satisfied with this. My worries are ebbing away. My thoughts go to Nazareth and I wonder what Rebecca and Salome are doing now? Are they thinking of me and Joshua? Do they pray for us every night as I try to do for them? And little Benjamin will be joining the other boys at school now. Does Rabbi Joel search him out as he helped me? Is he special too? Thinking of my young brother reminds me of my next door neighbour, Ruth’s child. In many ways he’s like I remember my brother, and it’s not just that they share the same name. I wonder if Bethlehem Benjamin is missing Joshua? It seems a pity that they’ll be parted for so long, they were so good together. And Ruth, what has she made of our disappearance? It was such a shame we couldn’t confide in them. I really wanted to tell her why we were leaving in such a hurry, but Joseph said that telling them could put them in danger too, so I had to abide by his advice.

My eyes were feeling heavy and I had to force myself to stay alert to watch over Joshua, then I heard my husband calling me. I pushed myself up and chased after the boy. Typical, he thought it was all part of a big game and ran off so that I had to lift my tunic and run after him. Then he tripped over a tree root and began to bawl, puckering up his little face so that I had to laugh! He wasn’t really hurt, I soon checked on that, he was more surprised than anything. So I picked him up and sat him back on the donkey and we were ready to go again.

We’ve been going a good hour since our rest and Joseph hasn’t said a word all that time. This is unlike my husband. I know he is not given to unnecessary talk – I’m the chatterbox – but he is not usually silent for so long. I’ve been concentrating on keeping Joshua amused. Perhaps he’s feeling hurt that I’m giving him so little attention.

“Joseph, is anything the matter? You’re looking worried, is something wrong? Have I said or done something you don’t like?”

“No, Mari, it’s nothing to do with you. Well, perhaps it is, but it’s not your fault. I’ve just been thinking of the momentous thing we’ve just done. Suppose all this flight was unnecessary. Have I uprooted you and Josh from everyone and everything you knew for no reason? Why should I think Herod would care about people like us? He’s probably not given the astrologers another thought and we could now have been safely ensconced at home, you chatting with Ruth while the children play together, me finishing off the implements I’d promised to our neighbours and getting well paid for it, so that you and our son could be well looked after and accumulate enough savings to fund us back in Nazareth while I rebuild my business there.”

“Nonsense, Joseph. You mustn’t blame yourself like this. We took this decision together. Who knows what might have happened if we’d stayed? For all you know, we might have been dead by now.”

“That seems unreal. All I know is that I’ve committed you to an unknown and possibly risky future and I don’t know if it was justified.”

“That’s because we’re out of danger and Bethlehem seems so far away. If we were back there, we could still be very vulnerable.”

“You talk as if it’s all plain sailing now. You’ve no idea what difficulties lie ahead of us. We’ve no idea where we’re going to sleep tonight. We don’t know how long our money will last. We don’t know if we’ll be allowed into Egypt. We don’t know if I can find work there to keep us. We don’t even know if the road is safe to our destination. We don’t actually know where our destination is.”

“We’ve trusted God this far. I was often in a far more dangerous situation back in Nazareth and I trusted God against all the odds and it worked out. Why shouldn’t he support us now?”

“I envy you your faith, Mari, I really do. I believe in our destiny but at times I find it difficult and I get assailed by doubts.”

“Look at the boy. Everything that has happened to us is because God promised me that he would be the Messiah. If this was wrong, if I’d made it all up, would we have got this far? I’d have probably been stoned to death – that would have happened if you’d not intervened and you believed God was guiding you then.”

Joseph nodded and perhaps would have said more, but the donkey suddenly stumbled on a loose paving stone and I had to grab Joshua quickly before he fell. The sudden activity jolted us out of our reflective moods and I lifted the child down and let him run beside us for a little way until he struggled to keep up, whereupon I decide to carry him for a while. Joshua started to pull faces at me, then he reached up and started to stick his fingers up my nostrils and giggled. I retaliated by pinching his cheeks and blowing in his ear and every time I stopped, he just shouted ‘more, more’ or ‘again, again’ and I obliged him. It’s actually very difficult to carry on a serious and problematic conversation when you’re being mauled by a child, even if it’s just in fun and Joseph said no more then, but steered us onwards towards Gaza and evening.

We had no more scares – the road continued to be busy and no-one questioned us or doubted our intentions. We were just one of many families seeking a better life in the more prosperous country of Egypt. We could, I suppose, have tried to link with another family going south, but Joseph was hesitant to make that commitment in case it revealed more about us than was safe. As we drew near to Gaza in the early evening, just before dusk, we both tensed up a little and I know Joseph was getting ready to argue with the tax officials at the main gate, but they scarcely acknowledged us and waved us through. They were far more intent on stopping a merchant who obviously was transporting much produce, a much more profitable source of revenue than we were.

I suppose if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with Joshua I’d have marvelled more at the fine buildings around me. A lot of the biggest public buildings looked new, Joseph said that it looked as though they’d been constructed by the Romans. I wouldn’t know, but Joseph said he recognised the style from the work he’d been involved in at Sepphoris. All I wanted was to find somewhere to rest and clean Joshua up – he was beginning to stink a little with a mixture of donkey smell mingling with his own odour. I realised now just how tired I was feeling and I’d have willingly gone with the first youth who volunteered to take us to an inn, but strangely we were left alone here. I suppose there were too many obviously prosperous merchants around taking priority – we were by now looking a little dirty and bedraggled and produced little interest from the young men out to earn a few tips from the lodging houses in the city. We had to ask directions to the quarter where most of the inns were to be found and we enquired at three places before we found someone ready to take us in. It soon became pretty obvious that our host was interested in more lucrative guests than we were and we only got enough attention to take us to the smallest room in the house and be quoted a price before he left us in the hands of a servant girl to help us unload the donkey and tether it in the yard with beasts of the other guests.

Although the innkeeper was brusque – almost rude – neither Joseph nor I were bothered at this lack of attention. The more anonymous we were, the safer we felt. I had to admit that the attention of the innkeepers’ wives at our previous two lodgings, whilst it was good-hearted and cheerful, filled me with some concern in case subsequently Herod’s soldiers came looking for us – they wouldn’t fail to remember us and which way we’d departed. Anyway, I felt there was no such danger of that here. We joined in the evening meal among a crowd of other men a couple of whom had their womenfolk with them. I had been able to wash and change Joshua and feed him and gave a small coin to a young girl – probably the daughter of one of the servants – to keep watch over him until our meal was over. Joshua was fast asleep when we returned and the girl scampered off.

I thought that a really good night’s sleep lay in store for us, but I was awoken by Joshua crying when it was still pitch dark. I lit a candle and went to him and was shocked to find that he was so hot, bathed in sweat. I brought the light to his face and saw it was flushed and burning to my touch. I woke Joseph and he sensed my alarm at once and fetched water with which to bathe the child. I at once assumed that we must have drunk some contaminated water on our journey, although Joseph and I seemed alright. His little stomach is not so used to the vagaries of the water supply and has not yet built up resistance to the many infections that children in particular suffer from. I nursed him for the next couple of hours, bathing him regularly until Joseph stirred again and offered to take over from me so I could get some sleep. But I just tossed and turned, I was too worried.

When dawn broke we were both bothered as to whether it was wise to continue with Joshua still showing the signs of fever. Many children, especially those so young, often succumb to such ailments and I felt we should stay at the inn in case we needed to call a physician. Joseph assured me that we had enough money left to pay for such help if we really required it and then suddenly the fever left him, as quickly as it had come and he was sitting up chirruping away, albeit a little pasty-faced. Should we stay a little longer in case the sickness returned? I was in two minds, but when Joshua attacked the bread we were served for breakfast as if he were ravenous and guzzled afterwards at my breast without the slightest sign of nausea, I concurred with my husband that we should continue our journey which he said ought to take us to the border post by the end of the day.

So we continued our journey nearing the border of our own country. I began to feel nervous. What would we find in a strange land? Would we find a home? Would Joseph be able to find work to look after us? Would we be accepted there? Would I find friends? I’m sure Joshua will not notice the difference. He’ll adjust, find other children to play with. But will he be healthy there? Will there be strange diseases we haven’t encountered before to afflict us. All day, whilst these thoughts were constantly coming to mind, I was watching Joshua closely to catch any signs that the fever might be returning. I kept picking him off the donkey to carry him, but in truth I was checking to see that he was not unnaturally hot. It was difficult to tell in reality as we were all sweating profusely from the rays which burned us fiercely from the midday sun right overhead and from which, on this part of our journey, there was very little respite. There were hardly any trees, just barren scrub and sparse bushes on the sandy boulder strewn earth beside the highway. The heat reflected from the giant paving slabs polished by the hooves of myriad animals bringing sacks of wheat and flax from the south and returning with olives, honey and wine from our native soil.

Towards sundown Joshua suddenly flagged and fell asleep in my arms. I felt his skin – it was a little clammy to touch and I worried that the fever was returning. His breathing was even and relaxed, however, he was not wheezing or gasping which were the danger signs. I used to talk to Ruth a lot about such matters as neither of us had much experience ourselves. Of course, we had illnesses in Nazareth and I remembered some things my mother said, but both of us used to seek Rebecca’s advice as she’d now brought up three children successfully.

I could see the ramparts of a town in the distance and Joseph said that this would be a place the Romans call Raphia, the last city on our land before the country of Egypt begins. It used to be a totally foreign place, but after the Romans came to this part of the world they established many similar features building baths and amphitheatres and gymnasiums – I’d noticed them in both Ashkelon and Gaza but had been too preoccupied with our own concerns to have taken much notice. As we drew closer I could see a crowd of people and animals around the city wall and gateway and wondered what was happening. Then I saw that they were seeking permission from the uniformed guards to enter the gateway and we joined the throng to wait our turn. A few Roman soldiers hung around looking for signs of trouble in the crowd and Joseph warned me that we might be here for a long time. I sat on the dusty bank and lay Joshua across my lap and held the reins of the donkey while Joseph went to find out what was happening. It was not good news.

“I asked some merchants near the front. They said they’d been waiting since the middle of the day. There’d been a hold-up whilst two military convoys took precedence, then there had been a long gap when no-one had passed through in either direction and the queue had only begun to advance in the last couple of hours. Meanwhile apparently a backlog of traffic has built up. It’s very frustrating.”

“Is this the border into Egypt? Is that why there’s this congestion?”

“I don’t think so. I believe the city is in our country and that the border is on the far side. We shall have to deal with the customs officials there.”

“How long must we wait then?”

“I don’t know. We will have to be patient.”

I’m not very good at being patient. It’s never been my strong point. My family always accused me of stirring things up unnecessarily. If there’s a problem or something unpleasant to face I’d rather confront it and tackle it head on. Joseph is the patient one. He’s more placid than me. Perhaps it’s a skill he’s had to learn to make all the implements he does. I’ve seen him spending hours smoothing down the wood he uses, removing the splinters, a perfectionist.

Night falls rapidly and we hardly seem to have made any progress towards the gate. Many in the crowd are grumbling and complaining that their animals need fodder. I feel like saying that we do too. Most of the people around me are speaking Greek – Joseph can understand quite a lot and can speak a bit as he’d learned it during his years in Jerusalem where it was as common as our language. I’m afraid I know nothing of it – no-one spoke anything else in our village. Perhaps I shan’t understand anything when we get to Egypt and I’ll be completely reliant on Joseph. I’m sure Joshua will soon pick it up and I’ll be the one who struggles.

We must have been waiting for over two hours now. Joshua woke up and I’ve had to feed him, sitting here at the roadside, like other women in the crowd. It’s going to be a lot longer yet and the temperature is dropping rapidly. I wind my shawl round Joshua to try to keep him warm – I can’t afford to let him get cold now and exacerbate his fever. Joseph has put his arms around me and when he feels me shiver he takes off his cloak and draws it over my shoulders. I snuggle against him. Occasionally the crowd moves closer to the gate and we have to move too or we would lose our place and be delayed even longer. Suddenly there’s shouting from the front of the crowd and I see a few stones being thrown. A rumour goes round the crowd that the gate has been shut for the night and that we will all have to wait to the morning to gain entrance. A couple of Roman soldiers appear and wave their lances threateningly and then it seems that the gates were only closed temporarily while the soldiers on guard changed duties and a new set took their place.

I’m so tired – I just want to lay down where I am and let my eyes close, but daren’t. Joshua is suddenly wide awake and toddling off exploring, finding the animals and making eyes at strangers, especially a couple of middle-aged women who encourage him. I’m sure the delay is because of several groups of merchants with laden beasts – the officials are making them unpack everything and they are searching the produce diligently. All night we wait. I’m now desperate for sleep but I can’t relax. It’s cold now and I’ve got Joshua snug against my body. I don’t think there’s any danger but it’s so tedious. When at last we are called forward and the sun is already showing its red glow above the horizon, the soldier on duty takes just one look at us and waves us straight through. All that waiting and finally it’s less than a minute before we stagger into the rough lane on the other side of the wall.

Joseph had intended us to make our way into Egypt this morning but there’s no way any of us are fit to continue our journey until we’ve had some rest. But all the first inns we find are full. Everyone else has had the same idea – all are looking for lodgings to rest the day. I’m swooning with exhaustion now. Joshua is crying, he’s hungry. I’ve no solid food for him. One innkeeper takes pity on us and allows us to rest in the shade of his house until a room is vacated which he intimates will be later this morning. I can’t drag myself any farther so we take advantage of this offer and Joseph leaves me to go in search of bread and dates to feed us both.

When he gets back, I’m too tired to eat. I give Joshua some bread and some figs which he scoffs, he is clearly better despite our restless night. He alone of us did manage some sleep, lying with his full weight in my arms. I feel sore this morning, my arms ache, my breasts feel tender. His dead weight during the night has had its effect and – because of the shortage of solid food for him – he’s had to make do with prolonged sucking from me and I guess that’s why I can feel them. He’s got strong teeth now and probably bit me there although I didn’t notice it at the time.

Joseph takes Joshua from me and I fall asleep where I’m sitting despite the discomfort and movement of people around me. When I stir, Joseph tells me that the innkeeper has just said that a room is ready for us and he helps me to my feet. I feel dizzy – I’m not properly awake yet, and Joseph carries Joshua and our bags, while I follow as best I can. When we have made ourselves as comfortable as possible, I try to see what I can do with the food that Joseph’s bought, but in the end we just eat bread and grapes and dates. Luckily Joshua is ready for a sleep and as soon as he’s breathing softly, I kiss him gently on the forehead and fall onto the bed roll and am asleep in minutes. When I wake up, it’s already dark. I must have slept all afternoon. Joseph has been kind enough to leave me, he’s looked after Joshua and some bread and grapes are beside me. I’m really very fortunate in my husband – there are not many men who would treat their wives with such consideration.

I gradually come round and we eat a meal together. Joseph says that he has arranged for us to stay until the next morning, then we must move on and should consider ourselves out of any danger from Herod for we will at last be out of his jurisdiction. It seems as though I’m hardly awake before we’re settling for the night. Joshua comes and wants to bounce on me – I think he believes I’m his donkey. I encourage him until he falls across my face and starts jumping up and down on my breasts. I yelp and push him off, it really is painful there. I give him another kiss and move him down my body so that he doesn’t take fright at my expression of pain and let him sit for a while. I tell him a story which keeps his attention for a few minutes then tell him it’s time for him to sleep and to my surprise he doesn’t object. When I’m sure he’s asleep, Joseph comes to me and we huddle in each others arms and fall asleep entwined together.

Slowly my eyes are adjusting to the faint glow that is seeping into our room from an opening outside our door which has swung ajar. I feel peculiar. At first I think it is because of the irregular patterns of sleep that I’ve had, my body has not adapted to a new rhythm. Then I’m aware of nausea. I lie still for a few minutes trying to fight it, then I can feel the bile rising in my throat and I can stay on my bed no longer. I rise up rapidly and stagger through the door and just make it to the lane in front of the inn where I am sick. I prop myself against the front wall and take a few deep breaths. My first thought is that I’ve contracted a fever through contact with Joshua, then a disturbing idea comes to me. Could I be pregnant again? I cast my mind back to those days in Nazareth over two years ago when I first revealed to my family and Eli that I was bearing a child. I remember the churned stomach and nausea I experienced then although some of it I put down to nervousness at the magnitude of what I’d done and fear at its possible consequences. But the morning sickness I’d suffered for several weeks was real enough and I recognised the symptoms now. A few days ago I’d have rejoiced at the thought of bearing Joseph a child that is really his own – a son perhaps that he knows is his. He’s been splendid about Joshua and treated him just as a father would care for any child of his own, but I do wonder sometimes whether he harbours any doubts and whether he can dismiss from his mind any thought that perhaps after all I might have been unfaithful to him.

But now? When we are homeless and refugees fleeing to a strange country? When the future is so uncertain? I decide to keep my sickness from Joseph for the time being if I can – he has enough to worry about without the additional burden of concern about my possible condition. Can I disguise it enough though? He’ll soon spot my sickness each morning and guess the reason, even assuming I don’t have to reveal the extent of my symptoms. For I recognise now the soreness of my breasts as another of the signs. In just one swift hour I’ve gone from a confused feeling of unease to a sure knowledge that I’m bearing a second child – who, I realise, will be probably born a foreigner in Egypt. I’ll be alright, I’m two years older, I’m fifteen now, so I don’t need to fear the physical birth, except that the circumstances are so uncertain. We might be anywhere when the baby’s time comes. Will there be help at hand? Will there be other women to confide in, women who are friendly or will I be alone? It would have been good to wait until we were settled in Egypt perhaps, but it is not to be. I’ll tell Joseph soon, but perhaps I’ll wait until we’re safely in Egypt and have found somewhere secure to stay.

I stay outside in the cool morning air until I am sufficiently recovered. There are a few people already about, men taking produce to the market stalls, women with large water pots making their way to the nearest well. They ignore me until one of the servants from the inn returns with a full urn of water and asks if I am alright – it must be obvious that I look unwell. I say automatically that I am, then as she hesitates, I add that I will be fine in a few moments, that I was too hot inside and just needed a bit of fresh air. She looks at me quizzically, but I say no more and the woman just shrugs and goes about her business. If it is that obvious to a casual observer, I realise that Joseph will see at once that something is wrong and I’ll have to own up to the truth or brazen it out, insisting that nothing is untoward. I decide that I must if necessary be frank with him even if it causes him to worry on my behalf.

However, when I finally go back to our room he does not question where I’ve been. Perhaps he has only just woken – there was only a glimmer of light when I ran outside and I didn’t stop to look if he was stirring. Anyway, we’re in heavy shadow and perhaps my pale complexion is not obvious in here. I check that Joshua is still sleeping and we both wash and dress for the day with hardly a word spoken. It is clear that Joseph is now impatient to be on our way, so I pick Joshua up and rouse him slowly bringing him to my breast before offering him some bread. As he sucks I wince for his urgent mouth grasps my nipple and the tenderness of that area is now very evident to me. But still Joseph notices nothing unusual and he busies himself packing our bags and fastening them on the donkey after feeding the animal with fodder that the innkeeper has provided. He is ready and waiting for me. I’m sure he wants to get us to the border point, the southern gate of the city, before too many other folk are on the move. He does not want a repetition of our experience when we arrived.

I still feel a little rough but I’m preoccupied with holding Joshua on the beast’s back and gradually the feeling of nausea subsides. We spend several minutes walking through the empty lanes and we pass a number of imposing looking buildings. At other times I might have been more curious about their identity – the only one that is obvious is some sort of arena, an amphitheatre or sports gymnasium I guess. These are becoming more common in any city where the Romans are in any numbers, although I haven’t the remotest idea what they do there. The edifice looks very new, with shining white stone and marble. But it’s empty – well, of course it would be at this hour of the morning.

So we come to the south gate and find a number of soldiers hanging about there looking bored, for there’s no queue at all. Two customs officials come bounding towards us and now I feel very nervous as if we’re doing something wrong. Joseph squeezes my wrist and tries to reassure me that it’ll be alright, we’ve nothing to fear now.

“Your name and business?”

The first man to speak is brusque and businesslike.

“My name is Joseph of the house of David and this is Mariam, my wife and my son, Joshua. We’re travelling to Egypt.”

“I can see that. You wouldn’t be at this gate otherwise!”

Joseph is silent, not offering any further information.

“Where are you travelling to?”

Joseph hesitates. We don’t know where we are going. Joseph has mentioned a city called Alexandria to me because he’s heard some of the merchants we’ve met talk about a Jewish settlement there.

“Alexandria. Eventually,” he adds when the official looks at him quizzically.

“What is your trade?”

“I’m an experienced carpenter.”

“Where are you from?”

I can see Joseph is now reluctant to say Bethlehem in case an order from Herod to find and stop us has been communicated to this outpost. He sticks to his earlier story.

“Bethany, a village the far side of Jerusalem.”

“And what is the purpose of your journey to Alexandria?”

“I need to find work there. There is insufficient need for my trade in Bethany.”

“Do you need to travel that far to find work? Surely there’s building work going on in Jerusalem for you to find enough to do there.”

“I find it difficult to obtain work there. There are many carpenters in Jerusalem and I’m not well connected there. It is difficult to make a good enough living to support my wife and son.”

“How long do you intend to stay in Alexandria?”

“If I can find enough work there in the Jewish community, I might settle my family there permanently.”

“I have orders to limit numbers entering Egypt. Too many tradespeople are seeking their fortune there. It is not so easy as you think. I’m not convinced that your skills are in demand there. You’ll have to convince me that I should allow you to go through on the limited quota I’ve orders to admit.” The official then turns to talk in a language I can’t understand to the other official. I now realise that the one questioning us is a Jew, but the other is an Egyptian.

Joseph seems to feel it necessary to add some special pleading.

“We have a particular problem, sir. There is jealousy and bad feeling. My wife and child have been threatened and I need to get them to greater safety and a new life.” This is as much as he dare say without revealing the source of the threat. The Jewish customs officer grunts and says something else to the Egyptian who just shrugs his shoulders.

The Jew now turns to Joseph again and orders him to unpack our bags and lay everything on the ground. I am now getting really worked up and fear that we’ll be turned back and either have to find a dwelling in Gaza or Ashkelon or even risk going back to Bethlehem. We could probably disappear and keep hidden in one of the cities. To stop in one of the villages we’ve passed through would cause more comment and we’d be easier to find if Herod’s soldiers come looking for us.

The two officials are now turning over everything from our bags as Joseph unties them from the donkey’s back. Nothing is spared from their gaze. They find our cash and count it. They are particularly interested in Joseph’s tools and spend along time examining each piece. Joseph bends to me and whispers that he thinks they are angling for a bribe to let us through. Joshua is getting bored and is trotting over to stare at one of the Roman soldiers. I thought the man might be amused at Joshua’s antics, but the soldier bad temperedly shoos the boy away and the lad is frightened and runs back to me crying.

At length the Jewish official says that we might be allowed through if we pay the appropriate taxes on the articles we are importing. He names a price which horrifies me, it is half of the shekels we’ve saved to set up home again. Then I realise that they know how much money we are carrying, they’ve already counted it and know what we can afford to gain entry. Joseph shakes his head to me and mutters that we have little choice if we want to cross the border. He is obviously annoyed but is trying not to show it for fear that we can still be turned back or that they might even find an excuse to increase their tax demand. I feel so powerless. These men are just greedy, they are taking advantage of us. Perhaps we should have waited and come later, attaching ourselves to a group of merchants. Perhaps then they would have found someone else from whom to extract a bigger bribe. Joseph in the end, with much shaking of the head, gives in and pays them what they have demanded. They are the worst sort of collaborators with the Romans enriching themselves at the expense of their countrymen. Anyway, the officials finally give the nod to one of the soldiers, who opens the gate and beckons us to go through.

We are there. We are in Egypt.