I, Coriander (18 page)

She said that my mother was sitting staring at the ebony casket, certain that whatever was inside it had been stolen.

‘I was fair worried,’ said Danes. ‘At last she unlocked the casket, and I saw a great light shining from it. I was mighty fascinated, until your mother lifted out something that looked like a piece of gossamer that shone from her hands and then sank into her skin. She began to fade away. I screamed her name. Then I saw her pull the gossamer away from her and push it back into the casket.’

‘It was her fairy shadow,’ I said.

‘Your mother said the shadow had the power to take her back to the world she came from, and with all her heart she did not want to go. She told me that I had saved her by screaming. As if waking from a trance, she said she had seen the future. It seems that she had given the casket to your father on their wedding night, telling him to keep it safe and never give it back, or he would lose her. She made me promise to hold my peace, which I have done until now.’

‘I have to find her shadow and take it back to Medlar,’ I said. ‘Without it Tycho will be killed. The shadow has more power in it than can be left in the hands of charlatans like Arise and Maud.’

‘The one thing I know, my sparrow, is that your mother loved you and your father and never wanted to leave you. I have thought a lot about this, for it has been a mighty puzzle with so many pieces missing, and I think those silver shoes must have come from the other world. She was all for throwing them into the river, for she did not want you to have them, but like you I could see no harm in them.’

‘My mother was right,’ I said. ‘I have often thought that if I had let well alone, she might still be alive.’ And I felt tears well up and a lump in my throat.

Danes wrapped me in her arms and we sat there, both of us quiet, both of us thinking and listening to noises from the street: hawkers, the cries of the ferryman, the water wheels churning, and I felt the tide once more changing.

Downstairs in the parlour the table had been laid with a white cloth, a fire was ablaze in the grate and candles burnt brightly. We all sat down to a feast like kings and queens of old. When we had finished eating, Master Thankless took out his lute and we sang and danced and were as merry as if it were Christmas Day.

24

The Storm

S
ummer came on and the weather got steadily hotter until London seemed to be covered in a thick blanket of unbearable heat. All the windows of the shop and the living quarters front and back were open to let in what little breeze there was.

There had once again been an outbreak of the plague, as always when the weather is hot, and there was a panic that it could be as bad as last time. Danes told me it was truly dreadful, both her parents having died from it and she only being spared because she was working out in the wilds of the country.

Master Thankless took to going once a week to check the plague numbers that were printed out and put up in each parish. Every week the numbers rose and fear began to grip London. It had been foretold in no lesser book than the Bible that a great plague was coming, though I sensed that this was not it. Nevertheless, the rich and those with friends and relatives in the country took no chances. They locked their London houses and had carriages, carts and barges take them far away from the city.

‘Can one call this progress?’ said Master Thankless as we watched the endless procession trundle past his shop and across London Bridge. ‘Do you know that in good Queen Bess’s day carriages were almost unheard of?’ And he sighed as two coachmen screamed abuse at each other, both claiming they had right of way.

Every week the plague figures continued to rise. I had two hopes, one kinder than the other. The unkind hope, which almost became a prayer, was that Maud and Arise might be struck down with the deadly disease. The kinder one was that they would at least plan to leave London so that I could go back to the house.

It was not to be. Maud Leggs and Arise Fell stayed put like two ferrets in a hole.

Master Thankless said that the bridge was not a bad place to be because it had the luxury of a breeze. It was agreed that it would be best if we stayed together at least until the plague figures began to fall.

It was in the quiet days that followed that Hester told Danes the truth about Maud and Arise. When she had finished she looked mighty sad.

‘Do you think I will turn out like my mother?’ she asked.

Danes went over to her and took her gently in her arms as if she were a child. ‘There, there,’ she said. ‘Do not fret. You are the sweetest flower that ever grew on a dunghill.’

All this time I had been weighed down by skirts and all that was expected of young ladies. Months had passed and I had done nothing to get the shadow back. More to the point, I had no way of knowing what to do.

I told Danes that I could not stay still any more. I had to think of something. ‘I have let everyone down,’ I said.

‘Stop being such a ninny. You are not going to get anywhere if you think like that,’ said Danes, rolling up her sleeves. It was Wednesday, her day for baking, and she started kneading the dough as if it was an argument that would not listen to reason.

It was hot in the kitchen, with the kind of heat that makes you want to sleep. My eyelids felt heavy and a thought came to me. What if Arise knew that the silvery gossamer thing in the casket had power over Rosmore, and that with it he could bargain for anything he wanted? If that were so, he would use it to wheedle as much out of her as he could.

Danes dusted her hands so that a cloud of flour drifted slowly and lazily in the sunlight. She went over to a stoneware jug, poured two cool tankards of elderflower ale and set them on the table. ‘You are a sleepyhead,’ she said to me, smiling. ‘Come and sit yourself down.’

‘It is too hot,’ said Gabriel, coming into the kitchen. ‘My head is crackling.’

‘There is a storm in the air,’ said Danes, getting up to pour him a drink.

‘I wish I could borrow your clothes, Gabriel,’ I said without thinking. ‘If I were disguised as a boy I could go with you to spy on Thames Street. I could even get into the house from the river through the water gate.’

Gabriel laughed. ‘You, dressed as a boy, with all those curls!’

Danes looked at me. ‘It is not such a foolish notion.’

‘You are jesting,’ said Gabriel.

‘No, I am not,’ I said. My heart was now racing. Why, this was the salvation I had been looking for. Why had I not thought of it before?

‘No,’ said Gabriel. ‘It is too dangerous.’

‘Then I will go by myself.’

‘I will not let you,’ said Gabriel. ‘They will have you back in that chest with a knife through your heart for good measure.’

‘Now,’ said Danes, ‘we are all running away with ourselves.’

‘Why do you want to get back into the house?’ said Gabriel, taking no notice of her. ‘Surely you should be glad to be well away from it.’

‘I am. I am very pleased to be here. I would have been lost without Master Thankless. All the same there is something I need, something that belonged to my mother that must be returned to its rightful place.’

‘Let sleeping dogs lie,’ said Gabriel. ‘There is nothing left in that house. Most of the furniture has been taken.’

‘It is only a small casket,’ I said.

Gabriel stood up. ‘I am truly sorry for all that has befallen your family, but no good will come of your going back there,’ he said sharply. ‘Let it be.’

I remembered those words. My mother had said them to me long ago over my silver shoes. But it was not the end then and neither would it be now.

I was thinking how best to win my case when the room suddenly went dark, as if the middle of the night was upon us. It was so gloomy that Danes lit the candles and pulled the windows to. Then there was a terrible rumble of thunder. The house shook and Nell came running down the stairs with her hands over her head to hide in fear under the table.

‘It is the wrath of God coming to get us,’ she whimpered.

I looked out of the window. Nature, I thought, could be more furious than any man’s quarrel when she wished. As I watched, the sky, dark as boiling brimstone, was lit up by a flash of lightning that streaked yellow across the river.

‘Where is Hester?’ asked Gabriel, suddenly anxious.

‘She has gone to take some baby gowns to Mistress Kent,’ said Danes. ‘She should be back soon. I told her I was baking her favourite seed cake.’

There was another crack of thunder and the rain began to fall.

‘I will go and fetch her,’ said Gabriel. ‘She should not be out in weather like this.’

‘Wait, for goodness’ sake,’ said Danes, ‘at least until the worst of the storm is over.’

‘Rain does not bother me,’ said Gabriel.

‘This ain’t rain,’ mumbled Nell, ‘this is the flood coming. We’re all going to be swept away.’

‘They are as good as married,’ said Danes as Gabriel left the room, and she took the seed cake from the oven, all golden and warm.

I went upstairs to help Master Thankless with the shutters. The tailor was standing in the doorway. The thunder rolled loud and low and the rain fell in draughtsman’s lines, hitting the cobbles before dancing up again. We watched it wash away the filth in the gutter. A carriage passed by, the driver soaked to the skin. People were running for cover and huddling in doorways, washing hung sodden between the two rows of houses and not one word could be heard, so loud was the noise of the rain. The storm had come without warning and the shopkeepers’ goods were stranded on the roadway. Pamphlets from the printer’s shop opposite had blown away and were floating in the puddles, the ink running and the words blurred.

‘We shall all be drowned,’ Nell had wailed. And I thought she might be right, for the water in the street and the water in the river looked as if they were one. Master Thankless shut the door to the shop and, taking my arm, led me downstairs.

‘Is Gabriel not back yet?’ asked Danes as we came into the kitchen.

‘No, most probably he will stay with Hester at Mistress Kent’s until the worst of this is over,’ said Master Thankless, sitting down. ‘Not good for business, this weather, but it will clear the air. Come, Nell,’ he said kindly, ‘there will be no seed cake for you while you remain hidden down there.’

Nell crept out and sat nervously at the table while the heavens continued to argue their case.

‘Storms as sudden as this often foretell great events,’ said Master Thankless.

‘My mother told me they are brought over by witches who sail in sieves,’ said Nell.

‘Fiddle-faddle!’ said Danes.

Just then the shop bell rang and Gabriel rushed down the stairs two at a time.

‘She’s gone,’ he shouted. ‘She has gone.’

‘Slow down, lad,’ said Master Thankless. ‘Who’s gone?’

‘She never went to Mistress Kent.’

‘What are you talking about?’ asked the tailor.

‘Hester,’ wept Gabriel. ‘Hester is gone.’

25

A New Suit of Clothes

I
knew immediately what had happened. Hester had been kidnapped and taken back to Thames Street.

‘But why?’ said Master Thankless. ‘What would they want with Hester now?’

‘To make sure that she is silent,’ said Danes grimly.

‘This has been my worst fear all along,’ said Gabriel. ‘I will kill them for this!’

‘Calm yourself, Gabriel,’ said Danes firmly, putting both her hands on his shoulders. She took a little bottle from her apron pocket. ‘Take this.’

He did so and sat down with his head in his hands. ‘I love her,’ he said. ‘I cannot be without her.’

‘I know,’ said Danes, ‘and we will get her back, but first we have to make a plan. No battle is ever won without one.’

Gabriel looked up. ‘I have no plan,’ he said miserably.

‘I have,’ I said. ‘And for it, I will need a suit of boy’s clothes that will fit me and a good cap that will hide my curls.’

Nell burst out laughing but then, seeing the solemn look on everyone’s face, was quiet.

‘Then what?’ asked Master Thankless.

‘I will go by boat to the water gate of my old house and see if I can get into it that way. I am certain I know which chamber Hester will be in.’

Master Thankless started to pace up and down and for one awful moment I was sure he was going to say no.

‘Gabriel must go with you, then. I will not hear of you going by yourself. It is far too dangerous.’

‘Coriander, if you are right and they already have Hester, what do you think they would do if they caught you as well?’ said Gabriel. ‘No, you show me how the house is laid out and where she will be and I will do this on my own.’

‘You need me to be there,’ I said, desperate for my voice to sound strong, for this was the chance I had been waiting for. I could not let it slip by. I had to get back and find the shadow. I had to.

‘Gabriel, be quiet and listen to Coriander’s plan,’ said Master Thankless firmly. Suddenly I felt hopeful.

‘Can you get a boat?’ I asked.

Master Thankless nodded. ‘I have a friend, a Master Starling. He will help us. Now, you are sure about this, Coriander?’

I wanted to shout ‘Yes, yes, yes’ but I managed to say it quietly.

‘Then we had better get started,’ said the tailor.

While my clothes were being made ready, I drew with great care the plan of my house so that Gabriel could study it. We went through it time and time again.

‘These are the stairs that lead to the attic,’ I explained.

‘Yes, and that door to the left was your old chamber,’ said Gabriel, following the map with his finger.

‘And the fifth step on the second landing creaks,’ I added.

‘As does the sixth step,’ he said.

‘Right!’

‘I feel I know the house like the back of my hand now,’ Gabriel said confidently. In truth, I felt less certain for it had been a long time since I had been there, but I kept this to myself.

Danes dressed me with care. A cap hid my hair and my pale skin was made darker with walnut oil. I dabbed more on to my chin and cheeks to show a shadow of where a beard might grow, so that when I looked in the glass I saw not myself but the image of a young lad.