Cherry Ghost

Seven

The taxi journey was uneventful and Linda arrived at Work in good time. She thanked the driver and offered him an extra fiver as a tip which vanished into his jacket pocket in an instance.

Walking up to the front door the concierge flashed a smile of recognition and nodded his head as he held the door open for her to pass through.

"Nice to see you again Miss Linda. I trust everything will be to your satisfaction"

"And you too Marco" she smiled pleasantly as she passed by him.

She always loved the way he addressed her as 'Miss Linda'. It was just one of the little extra things that endeared Work to her so much and kept her coming back time after time. She was eternally grateful for the day she had stumbled across the place when she had dived inside the front door one afternoon after being caught in a sudden downpour. Marco had welcomed her as if she was a long-time friend returning from a hectic shopping trip, offering to take her bags and motioning to a waitress to help her to a table by the open fire where she could dry out a little until the storm passed over. Even though she had been running late for an appointment with her accountant, she gratefully accepted his gesture of kindness and spent the time drinking a rather fine café latte and ran her eyes around the hotel. It was from here that she spied what appeared to be a recreation of a Venetian courtyard in the centre of the hotel and got up to go and explore further.

It had been a real surprise to find this little oasis of tranquillity in the hustle and bustle of city life and reminded her of the time she had discovered The Garden Tomb near the Damascus Gate in Jerusalem whilst she had spent a summer working on a kibbutz near Haifa. She had noticed the somewhat inconspicuous wooden sign suspended high above the pavement pointing up an alley way between two stone walls and decided to go and investigate. Somewhat amazed at only being asked for a donation rather than an entrance fee she entered into a secluded, immaculately maintained garden full of carefully manicured flower beds that buzzed busily with bees and other flying insects. Worn stone flags led to steps which descended into a natural amphitheatre, where at the bottom a tomb was carved out into the rock face. Lizards basked in the hot sun that bore down on the almost white rocks and butterflies flitted around in search of nectar in the flowers that bloomed in the partial shade from the trees and ferns growing overhead. It had taken a little while to notice but she eventually became aware that all the background noise; the blaring of vehicle horns the plagued Jerusalem's roads, the constant hub drub of traders shouting their greetings or warnings to anyone in earshot and the incessant chirping of sparrows had simply faded away when she had entered into the walled garden. It had taken her completely by surprise and she had sat down on a conveniently placed bench under a large tree to simply drink in the silence; content to just contemplate life and take in her new surroundings. Looking down towards the cave's entrance she watched as an elderly couple, backs stooped with years of hardship, carefully made their way down the steps and entered the tomb. She herself was not in the slightest bit interested in religion, but she had been touched by the obvious joy that the experience had given the elderly couple and remembered the looks on their faces as they re-appeared through the opening in the rock some time later and turned to look at each other. He had gently brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen across her eyes and cupped his gnarled hands around the side of her worn face. No words were exchanged. No further contact was offered, yet it was such a tender moment, born out of a lifetime of shared knowledge and experiences.

She had never returned to the garden during her stay in Israel, but the experience had left a lasting memory with her, strong enough to be reignited from time to time and always left her wishing she had gone back before leaving.