11 - The Lammas Feast (19 page)

I told him all that I knew, even of my suspicion that the Breton himself had been the victim of foul play. He tut-tutted and was plainly intrigued, but he also appeared to be genuinely distressed.

‘Three deaths in three days,’ I concluded. ‘There must be some connection.’

‘Why do you say that?’ he asked sharply.

‘Because the three men themselves were connected. Doesn’t that fact seem suspicious to you?’

John Overbecks considered the proposition for a moment or two, before shaking his head. ‘Not necessarily. Young Godsmark’s death I would most certainly regard as an accident. He was drunk and fell into the Frome. In fact, I can myself testify to the fact that he was very much the worse for drink on Tuesday evening, when he left the Green Lattis. He could barely stand upright, let alone walk in a straight line. He was far from sober, even when I first arrived. I had to share a table with him, because the place was so full, so I know what I’m talking about.’

‘What hour would that have been?’

‘When Walter left, do you mean?’ I nodded and the baker shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘It must have been late because it was beginning to get quite dark, and you know how long it remains light at this time of year.’

‘What I don’t understand,’ I said, ‘is what he was doing down by the river. If he was going straight home from the Lattis, he would have walked up Wine Street, then cut through either Dolphin Lane or Chequer Lane to Saint Peter’s Church. He wouldn’t have been anywhere near the Frome.’

‘Who’s to say he was going straight home?’ John Overbecks laughed. ‘He was a young man, and a handsome one at that. There must have been girls who fancied him, even though you and I might have considered him an unlettered oaf. It’s where we think he kept his brains that would have attracted the women.’

‘A romantic tryst by the river, is that what you’re suggesting? It was after curfew.’

‘Pooh!’ The baker was rightly dismissive of my objection. ‘It’s easy enough to walk along stretches of the town side of the Frome at any time of the day or night. You can stroll along the quay from the Frome Bridge to the conjunction with the Avon and still remain within the city boundaries. But if you want to go further upstream, there are ways of getting there, even when the New Gate and the Pithay Gate are closed. There’s been a gap in the wall alongside the Needless Gate as long as I can remember. The City Fathers have never done anything about it, although succeeding generations have known of it since I was a boy. Even a man as stout as I am can squeeze through it if he takes a deep breath; and you come out the other side on to Needless Bridge, very close to the parapet, I agree, but it’s not really dangerous if you’re careful. Then across the Broad Meads, past the Dominican friary and you’re on the river bank.’

‘Which is where I was yesterday evening,’ I agreed, ‘opposite the weir and the castle mill. And which is where I found Walter’s body.’

‘There you are, then.’ John Overbecks spread his hands, palms upward. ‘He was there the night before. And for what better reason than to meet a sweetheart?’

I was still not convinced about the girl. ‘Would he have allowed himself to get blind drunk if he’d been going to meet a woman?’

The baker settled his arms more comfortably on the tabletop and leaned towards me.

‘Walter Godsmark was one of those men who become inebriated very quickly. A couple of stoups of ale and he was drunk enough not to be able to control his drinking. The only way he could keep command of himself was not to touch a single drop.’

I nibbled at a loose sliver of skin by my right thumbnail. ‘I’ve never heard Walter’s name coupled with any girl in the town,’ I cavilled.

The baker was growing exasperated. ‘I don’t suppose we know everything about all of our neighbours, all of the time,’ he growled. ‘What is it, Roger? You want to believe that Walter Godsmark was murdered, do you? That somebody pushed him in? That somehow his death is connected with Jasper’s murder? Have you ever heard of Occam’s razor, lad? Assumptions about anything should be as few as possible.’

I grinned at him. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m afraid I’ve got one of those enquiring minds. I just can’t stop asking questions.’

For a moment, John Overbecks’s irritation was palpable, then he relaxed and returned my grin.

‘It’s as well that we’re not all alike,’ he admitted, ‘or I suppose knotty problems would never get solved.’ He stood up and extended his hand. ‘Thank you for coming, Roger. I won’t detain you any longer. I know you have a family to support. And now a dog, too. By the way, tell Mistress Chapman that I haven’t forgotten her order for Lammastide. The loaves will be made in good time, never fear. Now, I must go and see that Jane is all right. Forgive me if I don’t come down with you.’

‘Of course.’ We clasped hands and, picking up my pack, I made my way out on to the landing. I was halfway down the flight of stairs, when a call from John Overbecks made me pause. I glanced up to see him hanging over the banister rail, his large, square face wearing a thoughtful expression.

‘Would you spare me a few more minutes, Roger? There’s something I’ve been considering for some little time now, and suddenly, at last, I’ve made up my mind.’

‘
W
ell, when I say “some little time”,’ the baker amended, ushering me back into the parlour, ‘I mean for the last couple of days. Ever since we had our little discussion on Tuesday morning.’

‘In – in the Green Lattis?’ I queried, somewhat at a loss.

‘That’s right. You asked me about letting Jasper’s living quarters above the bakery, and I said I didn’t wish to be burdened with renting the place out any longer. I wanted to sell it. All of it. Do you remember?’

I nodded, wondering where this conversation was leading us.

I said, ‘You also suggested that if the bakehouse and shop were converted into living rooms, it would make a spacious town house. But we both agreed that I couldn’t possibly afford it.’

I had shed my pack again and Master Overbecks and I were now seated side by side on the settle.

‘That’s what I’ve been thinking about.’ The baker placed a hand on my arm and lowered his voice confidentially. ‘Forgive me asking this, Roger, but do you have any money at all put by? A few hard-earned savings, perhaps?’

I thought of my two gold pieces hidden under the cottage floor, and nodded once again, this time more warily. My heart was beginning to thump, and I moistened my lips with the tip of my tongue before I could bring myself to mention the amount.

‘Splendid! Splendid!’ John Overbecks squeezed my arm. ‘You need a bigger house with your growing family. Moreover, you’re a big, strong lad who could make the necessary alterations. So, what I suggest is this. We agree a price for the property. You make me a down payment of your gold pieces and whatever else you feel you can afford, and then you pay me the same amount each week that you now pay to the priory, only you won’t be
renting
from me. In five, six, seven years time – or however long it takes to complete the purchase – the place will be yours. Of course, it will all be done legally and above board. We’ll have my lawyer in Back Street draw up a document setting out the terms and conditions, which we’ll both then sign. I know you can read, so there won’t be any difficulty there. Now, you don’t need to give me your answer straight away. Go home and discuss it with Mistress Chapman first, if you want to. Of course, I’d like to have your decision as soon as possible.’

My mind was reeling with excitement, but I struggled to keep my wits about me.

‘Won’t there be interest?’ I croaked. ‘After all, what you’re proposing is as good as a loan. And suppose you were to . . . to die before I’d finished paying you, what then?’

‘In reply to your first question, there will be interest, naturally,’ the baker conceded, ‘but that will be taken into account in your weekly payment. Of course, it will probably add a year or two to the length of time it will take you to complete the purchase. As for your second query,’ he chuckled, ‘a very prudent one, I may say – although I hope I have a good few years left in me yet before I go to meet my Maker – then you would simply continue with the payments to my widow. To Jane. Does that tell you what you need to know?’

I said that it did before stuttering my thanks, still unable to grasp the full extent of our good fortune. Master Overbecks’s remarkable offer opened up vistas of quieter nights and space in which Adela, the children and I could escape from the constant tyranny of one another’s presence. There might even be a small yard at the back where Nicholas and Elizabeth could play in safety. It would take months of hard labour converting the downstairs into proper living quarters, and years of yet harder work to repay John Overbecks before the house was ours. But it would be worth it. There was one question, however, that I hadn’t yet asked.

‘What would happen,’ I blurted out, ‘if because of unforeseen circumstances, I became unable to finish repaying you?’

He pulled down the corners of his mouth. ‘I’d be reasonable. I’d give you time. But if it became totally impossible, then I’m afraid possession of the property would revert to me. I’m a businessman, Roger. You couldn’t expect otherwise.’ He slapped me on the back. ‘But it won’t come to that! You’re fit and strong. Don’t take the gloomy view, lad!’

He was right. I couldn’t afford to be pessimistic. Such an offer was unlikely to come my way again. Once more stammering my thanks, and promising him an answer as soon as I had spoken to Adela – although I felt sure that her agreement was a mere formality – I preceded him downstairs, still walking on air, rescued the dog, who was tied up in the bakery, and finally took my leave. There was now no question of my setting out on my rounds, and, dragging Hercules behind me, I returned home to the cottage in Lewin’s Mead.

Adela said, ‘No!’

I couldn’t believe my ears. At first, I thought I must have misheard her, but when she had repeated the word loudly and clearly several times, I was forced to accept that I hadn’t made a mistake. My first wild incredulity turned to a slow, pulsating anger.

‘Would you care to explain your reasons for this refusal?’ I asked, dangerously quiet.

She nervously put the length of the table between us before replying, and, from the look on her face, I knew that my own expression must be intimidating, to say the least. But I made no effort to soften it: I wanted her to understand just how furious I was. When she spoke, however, her voice was steady.

‘Can’t you see, Roger, that no one who calls himself a businessman makes this sort of seemingly generous offer without having an ulterior motive of some sort? We should be under an obligation to Master Overbecks for many years to come. He knows that. He’s bound to. It’s what he wants.’

‘Why?’ My tone was glacial.

Adela visibly flinched, but persisted with her argument. ‘We should be living directly opposite him, with only the width of High Street between us.’ She glanced towards the cradle, where the baby was sleeping peacefully. ‘That would include Adam. Whenever Jane Overbecks wanted to play with him, hold him, take him for a walk, I shouldn’t care to refuse her. I shouldn’t feel I could. And the chances are that we should find Adam carried off to her house more often than not.’

‘I might have something to say about that.’

‘You wouldn’t always be there!’ my wife cried in exasperation. ‘You’d be out, or be off on your travels. Just because we would be living in a different house wouldn’t mean that you would change your habits. Master Overbecks is providing Jane with a baby, but not one of her own, who might become a burden or a nuisance, but one who can be picked up when she wants him and then discarded when she doesn’t.’

‘You’re hysterical,’ I said more nastily than I intended, because a faint worm of uneasiness was beginning to gnaw at the pit of my stomach. ‘You forget, Adam won’t remain a baby for ever.’

‘No. But there may be others.’ She blushed slightly and lowered her gaze.

This gentle reminder of the more intimate side of our relationship gave me pause. I decided to change tack and see what a little persuasion and tenderness could achieve. I walked round the table, ignoring her look of apprehension, and put my arms about her.

‘Sweetheart, you’re being unreasonable. Think of it! Six rooms! Maybe a small yard at the back. We can’t waste such an opportunity, one that may never come again.’

She drew a deep breath. Then, ‘No,’ she repeated. ‘I won’t be in thrall to John and Jane Overbecks for the next six or seven years of my life. I like John very much. I think he’s a good man. But, in this, I don’t trust his motives.’ I dropped my arms back to my sides, so, being Adela, she decided to go on the attack. ‘And how
dare
you keep secrets from me? You’ve had those two gold pieces since you returned from London, last February, and you’ve never so much as mentioned them! You’ve hidden them away under the floor as though I’m some spendthrift who can’t be trusted with money! I find that very offensive.’

‘I’ve kept them for an emergency,’ I blustered. ‘An emergency such as this. Suppose I were to accept Master Overbecks’s offer and take the children with me to High Street? What could you do?’

Adela laughed shortly. ‘Nicholas isn’t yours to take. And who would feed Adam? No, my dear, if you do that, I’m afraid it will just be you and Elizabeth.’

I was shocked: it was the first time since our wedding that she had reminded me of the divisions within our family. And although I was well aware that I could force Adela’s hand by informing the brothers at Saint James’s Priory that we no longer required this cottage, and refusing to pay any more rent, I also knew that it would be the end of all harmony and comfort in our marriage. I was the head of the household. My word was law. That was the theory, anyhow. But in practice, Adela and I had never thought like that. We relied on each other for our strength and happiness. We worked together and respected each other’s point of view. This was the first major disagreement we had had. Neither of us could bear the idea that it might split us asunder. Yet one of us had to carry the day and whoever won would leave the other with a deep feeling of resentment.