“Those first two songs were very moving,” said Mark. “It got the waterworks going before breakfast.”
“Well, I love hearing those songs with that view of the moors,” said Matt. “Sometimes I sit here and have a good bawl myself.”
Sanjay asked the driver how he could leave the cab while the train was moving. The driver explained that the speed of the train was centrally controlled. He was required to feed information back to the control centre at certain points. The railway line was cut over one hundred and fifty years ago, he told them.
They passed a ruin on a hill: bare walls and no roof, like the bones of an old fort. They passed small villages then crossed a wide river. The fields were populated with sheep and cattle with thick winter coats. Narrow roads twisted along the valley, stringing the villages together. Some children standing on a fence waved as they sped past.
The train followed beside a wide, empty road then slowed to a stop. A sign told them the name of the place: ‘Aviemore.’
They cleared breakfast then dressed and returned to the lounge to stare out of the windows.
Before long, the train got underway again.
It was like watching a movie: they sat still while the view constantly changed. Things close to them flashed past, things in the distance gradually showed different angles. Mark found it mesmerizing. They spotted different things while Matt pointed out villages, the major summits, and gave them many of the names. He explained how this area had been the home of different clans over the centuries - each with its territory.
Every village had an old church. They looked empty and unused but they spoke of a time when faith in God was normal.
They were now climbing up another summit through cuttings, hewn long ago into the hard, dark rock, then the train coasted as they dropped down towards Inverness.
They left the roads and the line took them through dense forests of pines and birch trees. At the foot of many of the trees, there were lush greens - delicate mosses. Mark wondered what animals lived in the hidden places among the woods.
They swept over a high viaduct as the line crossed another river valley.
“We will be down in Inverness in less than fifteen minutes,” said Matt.
They had glimpses of the coast in the distance between the cuttings and the trees.
Matt explained that the farmland was more fertile near the coast. The high ground was covered in snow in winter. Sometimes the line was closed if the snowdrifts were too deep.
The train slowed as it approached Inverness station and came to a halt. Without delay, cranes began to lift some of the cargo, which included farm machinery. The train was loaded with timber, wool and frozen fish.
After a time, the train set off along the coast towards the East.
“Next stop, Nairn!” called Matt.
They put all their things, few as they were, in their bags, tidied their berths and pulled on their boots.
The train slowed and pulled up in a small station next to a timber yard.
They stepped out.
Mark noticed that it was cooler here than back in the city. They breathed in deep the fresh air. The sky seemed very blue between the puffy clouds.
The driver and the guard came up and said goodbye.
Matt led them over to a large transport vehicle parked next to a goods truck. He introduced them to a man called Stevie.
The roof of one of the train trucks lifted up and a crane picked up crates of boxes, bags and packages and set them down next to the vehicle. A forklift truck set the crates neatly down on the rear of the vehicle.
Stevie gave Matt a package with some of the fresh produce from the farm.
“I expect we will see you guys again,” said Matt to them as he shook their hands. They thanked him for looking after them.
Matt waved to the driver and climbed aboard the train.
The train engine throbbed and they watched it move off.
They waved at Matt until he was out of sight as the train made a slight left turn, crossing a river bridge.
When it had disappeared, Mark could hear the wind and the call of birds.
“Alright guys, let’s take you to the camp,” said Stevie. His voice had an accent a bit like the train driver.
There was space in the cab for all of them. Stevie moved off onto the road, turning right, away from the coast.
“The air smells different here,” said Mark, sitting by the open window.
“You’ll have smelt the sea coz’ the beach is just the other side of the town,” replied Stevie, with a gesture towards the North.
The road led towards the South, out of the town and past fields then crossed the river and along the South side of the floodplain. They could see the land rise in a series of ridges, mostly covered in forest, with bare moorland beyond on the high ground.
They passed one field where three tractors were working. Excited seagulls flapped in their wake, searching for worms in the newly turned, rich, brown soil.
Stevie gave them a commentary on the landscape as they glided along: the crops in the fields, the river they crossed, and the woodland they passed.
They pulled off the road, drove into the farm centre and came to a stop.
There were large sheds with farm machinery: tractors, ploughs, seed drills, and three giant combine harvesters.
Stevie pointed. “Over there are the cattle sheds.”
Stevie used a forklift truck to unload most of the crates into the nearest shed.
They climbed back into the vehicle and drove on, turning South up the hill.
Stevie swung the truck into a large yard and eased the vehicle carefully into a shed and closed the door behind them. They all got out and unloaded the rest of the cargo.
Stevie opened a door at the rear.
“Welcome to the camp,” he said, leading them up a track past rows of huts, into a large clearing.
Above them was spread a thin, gossamer fabric that allowed the light to filter through.
People were emerging into the clearing from every direction. They came and welcomed the three newcomers. Soon they were surrounded by a crowd of friendly faces. Mark was surprised to see that there were men, women and children, from the young to the old. They were dressed in a range of clothes. They did not all conform to one uniform like the Workers in the city. Some had long hair. Their faces had healthy colour from time spent outdoors.
A tall, slender man in his thirties came through the circle and greeted Stevie. A black Labrador was by his side.
“Hi guys, I am Jasper. I help run this place.”
He shook each hand firmly, looking into every eye.
“It’s great you have come. I heard a bit about you from Michael, Sebastian and John. They have all been here. Let me show you around. There is quite a bit to see.”
He turned to the crowd and raised his voice.
“Thank you all for making them welcome. I expect we will hear more at the meeting tonight.”
The people smiled and dispersed, taking with them the murmur of their voices.
They perched on some benches on the edge of the clearing. The dog licked Mark’s hand.
“We set up this camp about two years after the war,” explained Jasper. “We started small. Today, we have two hundred and seventy people on site. More of our people live in the local villages. We are here to serve the churches and help anyone the Lord sends us, in every way we can. This is our camp meeting place. We usually meet most nights for sharing, prayer and for worship, a bit like the meetings you have been to back in the city. Tonight, if you are up for it, we would like to ask you to share how you came to faith and how you came here. Testimonies are very encouraging. I am sure you have heard stories that helped you. God often uses them in lots of ways. Many people here have prayed for you. What do you think?”
“I would be happy to share,” said Johnson without hesitation.
“How long would you like us to speak for?” asked Sanjay.
“It’s up to you
. Maybe a few minutes? We have located some footage of you doing your normal work in your units, before you met Sebastian. We would like to show some, if that’s okay?”
“We have received so much from others, I would be happy to give something back,” said Mark, “although I have never spoken to a large group before.”
“Everyone here is for you,” replied Jasper reassuringly. “We would really appreciate it. We sow in prayer, like a farmer who plants seed. Hearing your stories will help us to keep going and not give up.”
Looking at Jasper as he spoke, Mark liked him immediately. He had a warm and easy way about him. There was a sureness about him, like he knew who he was and what he was doing. It reminded him of John.
A thought came to him.
“Jasper.” Mark said the name slowly. “The worship guys back at the church mentioned someone called Jasper. They said he had taught them a song, I think. Was that you?”
Jasper smiled. “Yes, I taught them a bunch of songs when they came up. Now, let’s start our tour. I want to show you as much as we can fit in before lunch.”
They started with the huts surrounding the meeting place. They were set out in clusters. There was a cluster of huts for teaching groups. There was a communication hub with people working among banks of computer screens. There were workshops around a yard given over to mechanical work, where people in overalls were working on various vehicles, contraptions and machinery. There was the shed where Stevie had parked the transport vehicle. Some of the sheds were for storage, some were full of vehicles.
“How come you have so many vehicles?” asked Sanjay.
Jasper grinned. “Some were scrapped. We salvaged them and fixed them up. Some we have modified. Some we have, well, borrowed. We have talented people passing through here. Everyone works together and it’s amazing what wisdom the Lord gives us. Plus it’s fun. Just you wait ‘til you get a go. The motorbikes will give you a kick, I bet!”
“What is that fabric over the camp?” asked Sanjay, pointing upwards.
“We call it the Chameleon covering. It makes us invisible to satellites, cameras and radar. We are hidden.”
Mark looked at him.
“You mean the New Order can’t see us?” he asked.
“Yup,” came the reply. “It’s a prototype. It was consigned and we… well we kind of borrowed it.”
Jasper grinned at them.
They passed more huts and came back to the meeting place and continued beyond it. There was an old, stone wall to the left side and a line of tall trees to the right. The track had brought them to a gap and Jasper stopped.
They came to a halt next to him and looked up.
There, in front of them, was a green lawn and beyond it there stood a castle, with a tall tower rising up above the trees. Mark had a moment of wondering if he was dreaming again. The tower had battlements and round turrets at its four corners. The stone had been weathered by many winters. The window panes had slender strips of white timber. Some openings were thin and narrow. There were wings of the building around the tower at the centre.
“Is that… real?” Sanjay stumbled over the words.
“It’s very old. My dad lived here when he was a boy. His father’s family had been here for generations. My dad brought us up here on holiday lots of times. After the war, I came up here and I applied to join the Nairnside commune. I was eighteen. Most people headed for the cities. A few of us asked the Lord what he wanted us to do. He showed us that he wanted us to serve him right here. He gave us visions of a camp. He told us that people would come here from afar to learn more of him and more about themselves: like an oasis in the wilderness, and a base for mission. When I think about what the Lord has done over the years, sometimes I want to celebrate, sometimes I just want to cry.”
They walked across the lawn.
There were some old trees standing in lines on both sides like sentries. To the North, the ground sloped gently down then flattened out. There were gardens of fruit and vegetables stretching in both directions. There were large areas covered with clear membranes. Beyond was the floodplain with the farm.
“We grow much of our own food,” continued Jasper. “In those covered sections, we grow plants that would normally not survive this far North. Now let’s go and have tea.”
He led them up to the gate of the castle, across a drawbridge that swayed as they crossed, under a gateway, through a paved courtyard and down some stone steps into a second courtyard. They entered through the main door - a large and heavy timber door with an iron handle that made a loud clunk as Jasper lifted the latch.
Inside, they paused in the narrow hall.
Mark liked the smell of the place. The aroma had a mixture of polish, timber, flowers and leather. The carpet had a pattern of green, black, blue and red. Jasper explained that it was called tartan. On the white washed walls, portraits of tight-lipped ancestors peered down at them.
At the foot of the main stairs there was an old clock with an ornate face on a shelf. Suddenly it chimed beside them. The sound was crystal clear in Mark’s ears. The place seemed to ooze history.
Jasper stooped to open the door of the dining room and led them in.
The room had tall windows along one wall and large tapestries on the other three walls. They had an assortment of strange figures, some on horseback and a line of windmills. Some of the faces were grotesque. At the far end of the room was a generous fireplace with a wide, carved stone over the whitewashed hearth. The table was covered in a crisp linen cloth. They went over to the windows. There was a wide stream below, the bare rock of a small cliff and towering trees above. Small birds flitted in the branches. A bird table covered in breadcrumbs attracted the birds to the window sill and the branches nearby. They were delighted to catch sight of the birds close up before they darted away.
Two more people came in and they turned to greet them.
“Hi guys, I am Jonathan. This is my wife, Helena.”
Jasper introduced them. Mark immediately felt this older couple were like family. He felt at ease and safe. The anxiety of the journey lifted.
They sat down and Jasper poured from the white teapot that was sitting on a hot plate. He handed out some thin biscuits.
They looked at them curiously.
“Oatcakes,” said Jasper, “they are a traditional Scottish biscuit.”
Mark bit into his and crunched it between his teeth.
“How was your journey?” asked Helena. Her eyes were warm and her manner was like a mother to them.
They took it in turns to describe all the stages of the journey from the city. The highlight for each of them was opening the blinds and seeing the moors for the first time. Johnson mentioned how they had wept at the sight.
“You have been stuck in the city all your lives like many others who have come here,” said Helena caringly, “they all received much healing here. I hope you will too.”
“Did Jasper ask you whether you would share tonight at the meeting?” enquired Jonathan. Mark thought he was direct with his question in the way a person is when they are in authority.
Johnson spoke for them and said that they would be fine to do so.
“Have you got any questions you want to ask now?” asked Jonathan.
“I have one. How did you come to be here?” asked Johnson politely.
Jonathan and Helena explained how, before the war, they were friends with Jasper’s parents. They used to live in a house in England with their two children. During the war, they went into hiding in a remote spot in Scotland. The Lord had shown them the camp in a series of dreams and visions. They travelled here, met Jasper and helped set it up. The camp had grown as the Lord sent them more people. Their son and daughter were away in America on a mission.
“We have people who were based here, who we send out to other cities or countries, as the Spirit leads us,” said Jasper. “The Lord has plans for every child of his. One of the things we want to help you with is to understand the Lord’s will for
you. You are welcome to stay here as long as you want to.”
“You said that you prayed for us. How did you even know anything about us?” asked Mark, raising his eyebrows.
Helena explained.
“We are in contact with lots of churches. As soon as you went to the ward in the hospital, the church alerted us. We have people who pray daily while the rest are working. They are called the Intercessors. We called a prayer meeting of the whole camp community that afternoon. We prayed for a few hours so that your first meeting was bathed in prayer. Church groups in other countries joined us in praying for you. In the days after, John sent us updates of your progress. You see, we are one church, one family.”
“That’s why so many people came out to greet you when you arrived,” interjected Jasper. “We asked the Lord if he would send you up here, before you prayed with John and the others.”
“That’s amazing,” remarked Sanjay.
“And touching,” said Johnson.
“I am not sure how we can thank you,” added Mark.
It was Jonathan’s turn to speak. He spoke with confidence, like he was used to groups of people listening to him, and with some brevity, as a man who has wants to make the most of his time.
“The Lord has his hand on you. We are very excited to have you here. I am looking forward to spending time with you guys. You will have opportunities to learn together. Now Jasper has some more to show you, including where you are staying. We will see you later on.”
He winked at Jasper. Mark was curious: he had never seen someone wink before.
They got up, and went out the way they had come in.
Across the drawbridge, Jasper turned right and opened a large timber door in the old stone wall. The door creaked on its hinges. On the other side there was a walled garden with long lines of flower beds, deep green hedges and closely cut lawns. They walked through the garden and through an iron gate.
They passed a canteen block. Jasper explained that they would have their meals there. The ground beyond sloped uphill. There was a long building built into the slope. Its roof was grass. Beyond the grass, higher up the hill, at the edge of the field, there was a stone dyke with countless tall trees behind it, the edge of a large wood.
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