Carefully, with measured steps, he came towards me and wrapped me in his arms. Only at this proof that I was flesh and blood did he to start to weep.
‘I thought I had lost you,’ he cried, ‘I thought I had lost you.’
There was a knock on the study door. My father turned quickly, fumbling for a handkerchief, and blew his nose.
‘Who is it?’
‘Danes, sir.’
My father went to the door. Shielding me with his body, he opened it just wide enough to let her in and then quickly closed it.
‘What is going on, sir? Are you all right? Why, what happened to your letters?’
He moved away and pointed to where I was standing.
‘Oh, my goodness!’ cried Danes, rushing towards me. ‘Did I not tell you, sir, that she would come back to us? Oh, my little sparrow, I knew you would not fly away for good. But why are you still dressed as a boy?’
‘There is no time to explain. We must get her out of those clothes,’ said my father urgently.
It was too late. There came another knock on the door.
My father rushed to stop whoever it was from entering, but it was no good. There stood Mistress Bedwell with a small girl who was holding a basket.
‘I came to say goodbye,’ said Mistress Bedwell.
‘Patience,’ said my father, trying to stop her from coming any further into the room. ‘You saw the baby?’
‘That I did and such a healthy little fellow. He looks so like his -’ She stopped, seeing the papers scattered on the floor. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked with concern. ‘You look a little red around the eyes. Not bad news, I hope.’
‘No, no, everything is fine, thank you. Let me see you to the garden gate.’
‘Who is that boy? Why is he hiding?’ said the child, pointing at me.
Mistress Bedwell looked over at me and her mouth fell open with surprise.
‘You remember Coriander,’ said my father.
‘I certainly do,’ she said, perplexed. ‘It is wonderful to see you.’ She stopped, taking in my appearance. ‘But why, pray, are you dressed so?’
My father cut in quickly, ‘Coriander has just returned from the country. It was thought safer for her to dress this way for her journey on account of the dangers on the road.’
‘Oh, dear Lord, yes,’ said Danes. ‘Why, I have heard the most terrible stories of vagabonds and highwaymen and worse. One cannot be too careful in these desperate and lawless times.’
‘That of course is true. And what news of your cousin?’ asked Mistress Bedwell.
I tried to look as if I knew what she was talking about.
‘A miraculous recovery!’ said Danes.
‘Yes,’ replied my father, ‘by the grace of the Good Lord, he rose up from his deathbed to live another day.’
Mistress Bedwell looked even more perplexed as my father and Danes made up a story between them that was as long as it was round in the telling. It was like watching two fish floundering on the shore, trying to make a river from a puddle.
Patience Bedwell’s eyes were as wide as saucers.
‘What a tale! You quite take my breath away,’ she said. ‘At all events, Coriander, it is lovely to see you. Dear Edmund often asks after you. He will be delighted at the news of your return. Tell me,’ she continued, ‘what do you think of the baby?’
Again I was at a loss as to what to say. For the life of me I could not think whose baby she was talking about. ‘Enchanting, ’ I said, hoping that was the right reply. Babies were usually thought to be so.
‘Now, Master Hobie, you must bring Coriander to dine with us, though not, perhaps,’ she laughed, ‘in those clothes. Shall we say Wednesday? There is so much to catch up on. Edmund will be impatient to meet you and hear all about your travels.’
‘By all means, with pleasure,’ said my father.
‘Come, Sarah,’ said Mistress Bedwell to the child who still stood there, her mouth wide open, staring at me.
‘Where did you get those silver shoes?’ she asked.
I said they were made specially for me.
‘Come,’ said Danes impatiently, ‘let me show you out,’ and with all speed she hurried the two of them from the room.
My father closed the door firmly behind them and leaning against it said, ‘I think she believed us!’
And we both burst out laughing.
‘The baby,’ I said. ‘Father, tell me who has had a baby.’
‘First,’ said my father, ‘you tell me how you came by your silver shoes.’
32
The Sweetest Little Fingers
I opened the door to Hester’s room and was greeted by such a lovely sight. Hester, looking beautiful, with red rosy cheeks, was sitting in a low chair. The baby, his tiny hand lying flat against her breast, sucked merrily away, making slurping noises like a bird.
Hester took her eyes lazily off the baby and said, ‘Oh, sweet Coriander, I knew you would come back. I told your father so many times that you would.’
‘Hester, look at you! Motherhood much becomes you,’ I said.
Hester smiled. ‘I am as round and as plump as a loaf of bread. I am no longer skin and bone.’
The baby stopped feeding and carefully, as if he were a flower, she handed him to me to hold.
‘What is his name?’ I asked.
‘Joseph Appleby. We named him after my father.’
What a wonder a baby is. Such newness just waiting to unfold. Little Joseph’s tiny hand was perfect in every way, his face full of dreams. He smelt of milk as he nestled into me and then, finding his fist, he sucked greedily on his fingers until he fell asleep in my arms.
‘Why, look at you dressed so!’ said Hester. ‘You have on the same clothes you wore that fearful night when Tarbett Purman was killed.’
‘I know. Although I have only been gone such a short time, so much has happened.’
‘Coriander, are you dreaming? You have been gone more than a year and a half.’
‘A year! It cannot be so. What then is the date?’
‘I can tell you exactly, for I have counted every day since you left. This is the second day of April, and the year is 1660.’
‘Tell me,’ I said, ‘how is it you are safely home?’
‘Why,’ said Hester, ‘friends of the King made sure that all the charges were dropped against Gabriel. Your father saw to it.’
‘Wait,’ I said, ‘wait! Not so fast. The King?’
‘Yes, King Charles II. Has your father not told you that he has been all this time with the King in exile? He put his only remaining ship at the service of His Majesty. You should hear Sam talk of the adventures they have had.’
‘Hester, you are not making any sense. What, Oliver Cromwell now takes counsel from the King? I doubt it much!’
‘No, bless you! Old Noll is dead.’
‘Dead?’ I said.
‘That is why we are home again. Now, tell me what has been happening to you,’ said Hester.
‘No,’ I said. ‘That can wait. I want to understand how you came to meet up with my father.’
‘Well, it was like this. When we landed at La Rochelle, we were at a loss as to what to do. We were in immediate need of work and coin but we did not know whom we could trust. There were many English refugees in the town and all sorts of alarming rumours which in the event amounted to nothing at all. Just as our money was running out, whom did we spy?’ She stopped and looked at the baby and touched his hands. ‘Are they not the sweetest little fingers you ever did see, so small and delicate?’
‘Yes, yes, Hester. They are the most beautiful fingers a baby could have. Now tell me for the love of the Lord, whom did you spy?’
‘Why, Sam, your father’s apprentice.’
‘What was he doing there?’ I asked.
‘That was the luck of it. Your father’s ship was in port and he had come to meet it. He told us that your father was fair desperate for news of you.’ Again Hester stopped and said, ‘Is not the
baby the spitting image of Gabriel?’
‘Hester, please,’ I begged, ‘tell me what happened without all the stopping and starting, for you are making me giddy in the telling.’
‘Forgive me,’ said Hester. ‘I do not know what it is about having a baby, but I can hardly put my mind to think on anything else.’
‘For my sake, try,’ I pleaded.
‘I told your father all about my mother and Arise Fell. I left out nothing. I said how you had come to be locked in the chest and how, against all the wonders of the world, you came out again, though you had been gone for all of three summers. Then Gabriel told him about the night when Tarbett Purman died and how he had come to be accused of murder.
‘Well, when your father set sail again he took us with him. When it was safe to return to England, he insisted that we both live in Thames Street. I showed him the papers you had gone to the trouble of writing for me. He took Gabriel into his employment and I asked if he would let me work for him too. Do you know what he said?’
I shook my head.
‘He said that no daughter of his would ever work as a maid. He would not hear of it. Can you believe that? After all I had told him, he called me his daughter! He said that he would never think of me in any other light.’
And she started to cry.
‘Oh Hester, dry your eyes. You will make the baby cry.’
‘Do you think it was wrong of him?’
‘I would have expected no less. You are my sister, dear Hester, no matter what.’
‘How could anyone harm a baby?’ said Hester.
‘I do not know,’ I said, looking at Joseph’s mop of dark hair.
‘My mother did.’
‘Hester, you are not she.’
‘I know, but it saddens me to think of it. I cannot for the life of me understand it. Are you tired? You can put him in the cradle if you wish, Coriander.’
‘No, I like having him in my arms.’
She laughed. ‘So do I. I like him to sleep close to me. Danes say it is better than leaving him alone in a cradle to get too cold or too hot. Mistress Bedwell does not agree. She says that I should have a wet nurse and not hold him all the time, for it indulges him so.’
I laughed. ‘What nonsense!’
Hester looked pleased. ‘It feels right, him being next to me.’
‘Hester, do what you feel is best. Take no notice of Patience Bedwell.’
I could hear the sound of boots on the stairs.
‘Coriander!’ said Gabriel, coming into the room. He looked as proud as ever I saw him and quite the man. ‘It is so good to see you. I could hardly believe the news when Danes told me that you had returned.’
I got up and he took little Joseph from me.
‘Have I not a fine son?’ he said, going to sit beside his wife.
‘I have been trying to find out from Hester how long it is since you have been back,’ I said.
‘Just four months, since this January. We heard that the country had no more appetite for being a republic and the talk was all of the King’s return. Your father was full of grief not to find you here when we finally came home.’
‘I kept telling him that you would be all right,’ said Hester, ‘that you had come back before and you would again.’
‘It has been awkward, though,’ said Gabriel, ‘for neighbours and friends seemed to have more questions in them than we could find answers for.’
‘You should see Bridge Street,’ said Hester, changing the subject. ‘Should she not, Gabriel? It has all been repainted, flags are being put up and nearly every shop has By Appointment to the King hanging from its sign. It looks so pretty, Coriander.’
Gabriel put his arm round Hester. ‘That it does,’ he said, and he looked on his little family with pride.
I left them and went back downstairs to find my father waiting for me in the hall below.
‘I still cannot believe you have come home,’ he said.
33
To the King his Own
That evening, after I had bathed and dressed in clean clothes, I sat with my father in his study, enjoying the heat from the fire. We were, I thought, like two travellers returned from faraway places to tell of our different journeys, only to find that our maps had overlapped.
‘Do you forgive me?’ he asked.
‘For what?’
‘For leaving you with Maud and that preacher.’
‘You were not to know what they would do.’
‘No,’ he said, getting up to poke the fire and sending sparks like dragons’ breath up the chimney. ‘But I should not have been so wrapped up in my own grief. I should have taken better care of you and of our future.’
‘You did your best.’
‘In truth I was tortured by the thought of your mother’s shadow. I kept the casket in here for safety’s sake...’
‘I know. I saw it. One evening when I could not sleep, I came down the stairs into the study to find you at your desk with the casket. The lid was open and you asked me if you should have given it back to her.’
‘Did I?’ he said, looking at me. ‘I do not remember. I was too consumed by my own misery.’
‘Father,’ I said, trying to reassure him, ‘you were brave enough to do what she wished for.’
‘Brave, you call it. No, not brave, foolhardy,’ he said. ‘She gave me her shadow on our wedding night. She made me promise that I would always keep it safe. I did not understand what she meant. I tried to give it back to her when she was ill. She would have none of it. I should have taken it out of the casket and forced it on her. Oh, what a fool I was!’ And he hit the wall above the fireplace with his hand.
‘You did what she wanted,’ I said.
‘Yes, and she died. If I had made her take the shadow, would she still be alive?’
‘She would have been alive for a while in her world, and then she would have been killed by her stepmother, Queen Rosmore, who was waiting to take the shadow from her. Father, believe me, you did the right thing. It was Rosmore who killed her. That is why none of the remedies worked. But she wanted to die in this world with us. She did not want to go back where she had come from.’
My father came to sit beside me and held my hand.
‘She knew that if that happened, you and she would be parted for ever,’ I went on. ‘She took her chance with death in this world, hoping that by the grace of the Lord you would one day be reunited. That could never have happened if you had given her back her shadow.’
‘Coriander, how do you know these things? If what you say is true you have taken a great weight off my shoulders.’
‘It is true, Father. I promise you that it is.’
He looked back at the fire and after a while said, ‘What has happened to the shadow?’
‘It is mine to look after now, and it is where it should be.’
‘And the silver shoes,’ my father went on. ‘I could not understand why Eleanor was so adamant that you should not have them. When she told me that she thought her stepmother had put a spell on them, it made no sense. In all honesty I felt it was easier not to believe it.’
‘What did she tell you?’ I asked.
‘That those silver shoes had been sent to you to tempt you into her world. She told me about her stepmother and how she was sure that she would try to find the shadow, and that if she did, then one day we would lose you.’
‘Why did she think that?’ I asked.
‘Because you come from her world as much as ours.’
‘Surely you must have been in that land too,’ I said, ‘for I have seen a portrait of you with mermaids by a river.’
‘Those paintings were sent to us after our wedding. Eleanor told me that they were a present from her father. I never met him; I never went to that land. I often wondered how it was they had got such a good likeness of me. Oh Coriander, I should never have left you. I should have taken you with me, as you asked me to do. I have never forgotten your sweet face looking up at mine and your thin littl
e arms around my neck. If only I could turn back time! Instead, like a fool, I left, telling myself it was all for the best.’
‘Maybe it was,’ I said.
Danes came in with a tankard of ale and a plate of seed cake. She set them down on the table and said, ‘Have you told her about Maud?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Please do. What happened to her?’
My father let out a hollow laugh. ‘She was found babbling here in the house,’ he said, ‘by a pile of bones which she swore were the remains of Arise Fell. The constable had her arrested and as they could make neither head nor tail of what she was saying, she was taken to Newgate Jail. She was accused of murder.’
‘They were the bones of Arise Fell,’ I said.
‘If that is the case, I am glad to know it. There was much talk of the preacher, for he was not seen again. When I got back to London, I came straight here. I could hardly believe the state or the stench of the house, all the furniture gone, and rats the only inhabitants. I was so angry I went to see Maud in prison. She was not a pretty sight, given over to boils and sores on the skin. Lord, I felt so angry with her that I wanted her hanged. She begged and wept, saying that she had lost her way, that it was all the work of the Devil. I would have none of it. That brought her up sober and no mistake. She told me that she and Arise had been given gold by some old witch. All they had to do was kill you and find the shadow for her, but evidently they tried to play the woman for a fool, which they much regretted. Maud spoke all the time in the plural, as if Arise was still by her side.’
‘What happened to Maud? Was she hanged?’
‘She pleaded with me to get her freed and promised that if I did she would reveal where all my furniture could be found.’
‘Was it at Ludgate Meeting House?’ I asked, smiling.
‘Yes,’ said my father. ‘The wretched brethren had all my things. Arise and Maud had removed everything with the exception of the stuffed alligator. I made a statement to the authorities and Maud and the entire congregation were deported to the New World.’
‘I think,’ said Danes quietly, ‘that she had much to thank you for.’