‘Here is an indictment against you,’ he said, ‘an indictment from God-fearing honest people who have witnessed what has been going on in this house and will stand up and say so in court if needs be.’
‘That’s right, Arise. You tell the witch,’ said Maud, rubbing her hands together.
Arise carried on like a preacher in the pulpit. ‘It says in good, pure, upright letters that you have been seen hiding evidence relating to your late mistress’s charms and remedies. That you have used Gabriel Appleby, the tailor’s apprentice, to remove the remaining herbs and potions that bear witness to Satan’s hand.’
He was fair shouting now. The house began to shake. He straightened himself as much as a crooked man can, and lightning seemed to flash from his glasses.
‘Witches, fairy meddlers, sorcerers and all that seek their help sin against the commandments of the Lord. I believe, O God be my witness, that you, Mary Danes,’ and he jabbed his long finger towards her as if it were a knife, ‘are in league with the Devil and all his cohorts.’
‘Oh,’ said my stepmother admiringly, ‘you speak so lovely.’
‘I have done nothing wrong,’ declared Danes.
‘Let that be for others to judge,’ shouted Arise. ‘I believe the authorities will be much interested in what is written here.’
Danes was quiet and I felt my world crumble as Arise said menacingly, ‘I have enough evidence to have you thrown into the clink, woman. As for your precious master, why, a hangman’s noose waits for him at Tyburn. Who then will care for this miserable child?’
Hester let out a gulp. I ran to Danes and clung tight to her. She was my anchor, all that was left of the sinking ship.
‘Do I make myself understood? If you want to keep your position here, you will think carefully before you interfere with my teachings again.’
I clung to Danes all the tighter, but Arise grabbed me and once more dragged me upstairs and shut me in my chamber.
That night I lay in bed in my gold-painted room and wept until Beth’s face was soaked with tears. I watched the reflections of the river water dance on the walls and took comfort from the sounds outside. Our world might be lost but things were going on as usual, watermen arguing over passengers, drunks shouting their love to the moon, cats screaming their fury, the night watchman marking the hour.
Around first light my chamber door opened and my father crept in and sat on my bed.
‘Shush, poppet, listen to me carefully,’ he said. ‘No one knows I am here. I have come to say goodbye. I must go away, I know not for how long, but all will be lost if I stay.’
‘Take me with you then,’ I begged. ‘Please.’
‘I cannot, my princess. It is not safe.’
‘It is not safe here,’ I said.
My father smiled and wiped away my tears. ‘It is safer than where I am bound.’
‘Please, I will be good, I promise,’ I said, clinging to him like a drowning sailor.
‘Coriander, I will come home to you. Just be brave for me. I do not do this lightly. Danes will look after you. But now I must leave, the barge is waiting.’ He kissed me and I finally let go.
I watched from my window, tears blurring my vision as in the dull morning light I saw my father’s barge make its way downriver towards Deptford.
I am not sure what hour it was when Arise Fell came into the room, this time with a servant carrying buckets of water and brushes.
I backed into a corner in fear of the wrath of God.
‘These walls,’ said Arise, ‘are to be scrubbed until all these images of vanity, these scribblings of the Devil are gone. Do you understand?’
It took a week to wash away those pictures. I did it more with tears than water until only a faint outline remained, and as each wall was washed clean I put the story into my memory.
On the seventh day the crooked man came up the stairs with my stepmother behind him.
‘What is your name?’ asked Arise Fell.
‘Ann,’ I replied.
‘Amen,’ said my stepmother.
I knew then that my name had been stolen from me and locked away in the study. I would have to find it, for without my name who was I?
11
Farewells
Ships need good anchors, for without them they start to drift out to sea. So it was with our house. One by one the servants sadly shook their heads and left, until soon only Danes and Joan remained. In truth, poor Joan was too frightened to be of much use to us. Maud and Arise put the fear of the Lord into her, calling her a thief and accusing her of taking meat and other victuals. Arise threatened to have her thrown into Newgate Jail, which was as good as a death sentence. Joan went as white as a plucked chicken and started trying to cook her way to salvation. Now my only security was my beloved Danes, and my fear of losing her was great.
In the early days after my father’s departure I pinned my hopes on Master Bedwell coming to our rescue. It was not to be. Under the watchful eye of Arise Fell, Maud Leggs (as I thought of her) became well versed in what to say to visitors like Master and Mistress Bedwell when they came to enquire how we were all doing in these troublesome times. For not only was there a warrant for my father’s arrest but three of his ships had been reported lost at sea. Master Bedwell offered his help.
Maud held a cloth to her nose and said, ‘Oh, I thank you for your concern. It has all been such a terrible blow. My dear good husband has, I am certain, been wrongly accused and is doing what he can to save his name and business. To that end he has gone away. I pray daily for news from him.’
Then she squeezed out a tear, and flapping her hand up and down like a fan whispered, ‘Tell me, Master Bedwell, that it be not true what they say about my good husband having been a Royalist supporter.’
All this was said while Hester and I stood by her chair, our heads bowed, our eyes kept firmly on the floor.
Master Bedwell looked mighty uncomfortable and said that as far as he knew Thomas Hobie was a good and honest gentleman.
‘My thoughts too,’ said Maud, dabbing at her eyes. ‘And all this talk of helping Papists is no more than lies.’
Patience kindly asked after me.
‘As you can see, Ann is well,’ replied Maud.
‘Do you mean Coriander?’ said Patience.
‘Indeed I do not,’ said Maud Leggs. ‘We call her Ann to bring her back to the ways of the Lord. It is not good for a child to be indulged with a name that invites vanity. Ann be a good Christian name.’
Patience looked worried and at a loss as to what to say.
Oh yes, Maud Leggs and Arise Fell knew how to stifle criticism. As the visitors turned to leave, Maud said, ‘I thank you so much for your concern. Do come again. Our gates are always open to honest godly folk.’
Arise led them out into the hall and said piously, ‘I am praying daily for Master Hobie’s safe return, just as I pray daily that the Lord Jesus Christ will soon see fit to come to London and take up his crown.’
The Bedwells never came again to enquire how we were faring.
To the good mistresses of Arise Fell’s flock, who rushed to our house clucking like hens to peck their mean beaks into our affairs, to them Maud Leggs would say, weeping into her cloth, ‘If I had known that my husband was a Royalist supporter, I would never have married him.’
‘Indeed not,’ the Bible-clutching ladies would say as they ate our sweetmeats and drank my father’s fine wines.
‘And when I think,’ sniffed Maud, ‘that my first husband (God rest his soul) was a hero who fought with Cromwell at the Battle of Naseby and laid down his life for the great cause! He must be turning in his grave.’
Cluck, cluck, cluck, went the good mistresses.
‘This be my daughter,’ said Maud, pointing at Hester. ‘And that be my husband’s child. If it were not that I should care for her I would have left this city and returned home long ago.’
With that the clucking ladies bobbed off home to spread the gossip like grain in a hen coop
.
Now no one came to ask how we were faring or when my father might be expected back. I was no better than a prisoner in my own home. I slept alone in the kitchen, getting up early every day and not resting until late at night. I was nothing more than a maid of all work. Anyone who saw me would have found it hard to believe that once I had been the merchant’s daughter who had a room painted with fairy stories and who wore dresses a princess might have owned.
By the time midwinter arrived, I had, through the drudgery of my days, lost all care as to what month it was, or even what year. Christmas came and went almost unnoticed, for Cromwell had banned the whole joyous Christmas festival.
Gone, all gone. Gone all the laughter, gone all the warmth. Now all that lingered in the dark nooks and crannies of the house were devils and demons, waiting to swallow me up.
All that was left of my old world was Beth, my beloved doll.
12
The Hand of Wrath
Never in my life had I been as frightened of anyone as the crooked man. The sound of his footsteps on the creaking stairs was enough to fill my whole being with dread. When he hit me, I lost control and felt piss trickle down my legs, and I felt more ashamed of myself than any words can describe. He would look at me with disgust and say I was no better than a farm animal.
This crushed me. Hester never wet the floor, not even when her mother and Arise both went at her. Hester told me kindly that she was used to it. She had never known it any other way.
I hate to think what I would have done without Hester. She smuggled extra food to me and gave me blankets to keep me warm at night. She risked a good beating for her trouble if caught. Joan was too scared to give away a morsel of food and poor Danes was powerless to do more than offer words of comfort, though I could see it pained her not to be able to help me. In truth, I was so worried that she would be thrown out that I begged her to say nothing, for she had no rights over our new lord and master Arise Fell.
One cold crisp morning after I had taken the coal up to the parlour, I stood on the landing gazing out of the window. It was snowing gently and the Thames once more looked like a scene from a fairy story, with all the houses and boats shining powdery white in the watery winter light. I wondered whether, if Lord Jesus did come, he would walk on water up the river to Whitehall, and whether the tides would stay still for him. Or would he ride on a donkey across London Bridge, and if so would he be able to see into all the houses and would he know about all the children who lived in fear of what was being done to them in his Father’s name?
So lost in thought was I that I did not hear the crooked man creep up behind me.
‘Vanity, all is vanity,’ Arise breathed down the back of my neck. ‘Idleness and vanity. You, Ann, were looking at your reflection and thinking yourself to be pretty, were you not?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I was not, sir.’
‘Then what were you doing?’
‘I was wondering when Jesus was coming.’
‘How dare you use the Lord’s name as an excuse!’ shouted Arise. The hand of wrath once more found me and he hit me hard about the head so that my cap came undone and fell off.
‘It is the Devil’s work and no mistake,’ he said, pulling hard at my hair. ‘All these curls, red as the flames of Satan! This is vanity, this is pride.’
‘What is going on?’ said Maud, coming out of the parlour with Hester and peering up at us over the banisters.
‘Nothing,’ said Arise, dragging me down the steep steps to the kitchen. Bump. Bang. Bump.
‘Where are the scissors?’ he bellowed at a startled Danes and Joan.
‘I do not rightly know where they are, sir,’ said Danes.
Arise shook the dresser until plates and glasses fell off and the drawers slid open one after another, all crashing to the floor. Finally he found what he was looking for. All this time he gripped my hair tight.
‘Leave her be,’ said Danes shakily. I believe she thought he was about to kill me.
‘Silence, woman. I did not ask for any of your tongue.’
He started to chop my hair off in handfuls. I did not fight back. What did any of it matter any more?
‘How dare you!’ said Danes, rushing forward. Arise pushed her away so that she lost her footing and tripped. She stood up again and said, ‘How can you call yourself a man of God?’
Arise roared, ‘Another word from you, mistress, and you will be thrown from this house. Do I make myself clear?’
Joan was whimpering. For the first time I was not crying. I looked on the floor with horror. For there, amongst all the broken plates, glasses, jugs, candles, pots and pans lay my beloved Beth. I had kept her hidden in the dresser for safety.
The sight of my doll made Arise stop chopping at my hair. He let me go, and kicking a broken plate out of the way picked up Beth.
‘Is this yours?’ he said to me.
‘Yes,’ I said, feeling my legs go weak. ‘May I have it, sir, please?’
‘Is this doll cherished? Is this doll loved? To show regard for any image that is not that of the Lord is a sin,’ spat out Arise.
‘What harm is there in the child having a doll, when she has lost so much?’ said Danes.
‘This child,’ said Arise, grabbing at me once more and shaking me hard, ‘this wicked child has brought sin upon herself and she shall be punished.’
With a flick of his wrist he tossed Beth into the fire. I watched silently as my best beloved doll lay on top of the burning coals. Then the strangest thing happened. Beth stood upright in the fire with her cloth hands outstretched before her, and the flames, instead of going up the chimney, danced from the hearth towards the crooked man, like the forked tongue of a snake. Maud screamed with alarm as Arise’s coat caught light so that he was forced to use the hand of wrath and the hand of salvation to beat out the flames instead of beating me.
A smell of singed wool filled the air, and still Beth stood there like Joan of Arc, refusing to be defeated by the flames. At last she dissolved into a myriad sparkling colours that fizzed and spat out from the fire, flying towards Arise and Maud who were forced to the end of the kitchen.
Arise, now white with rage, the veins in his forehead nearly bursting with anger, brought his fist down hard on upon the table.
‘The Lord be my witness,’ he shouted, pointing his long finger at Danes, ‘this is proof of witchcraft for which I hold you, mistress, responsible. I order you to leave this house and never darken this door again.’
I ran to Danes and she took my hand. ‘Let us be gone, my little sparrow.’
‘No, you do not, you witch,’ said Arise, suddenly grabbing me away from her.
‘I will leave, sir, but let me take the child.’
‘No,’ said Arise coldly. ‘Out, before I turn you over to the authorities, and may you have the grace to see the salvation that is offered you. The Lord is merciful.’
There was nothing else to be done. Danes was without any power. I knew that. I watched her go and felt all to be lost.
‘Mother,’ said Hester timidly.
‘Silence,’ hissed Arise. ‘Joan, what are you staring and shaking for? Get on with the meal. And Hester, fetch a broom and clean all this up.’
I made one last desperate attempt to break free from the crooked man, determined that I was going to escape and run away with Danes, but he grabbed at me and dragged me to the study, followed by Maud. How he had got hold of the key to the room my father kept locked, I had no idea.
My mother’s chest stood empty in the middle of the room with its lid open. Her dresses lay on the floor like lifeless butterflies. The little paintings were gone, the casket gone.
I knew then what the crooked man was going to do and the fear of it made me fight for my life. Finally I sank my teeth into his arm. He let out a yelp of pain and hit me so hard that I have no memory of being put in the chest, only of seeing the light disappearing.
I tried to push the lid open, but it was locked tight. I shouted for help b
ut I knew no one would come. So I closed my eyes, for the darkness in my head was not as black or thick as the darkness I could see when my eyes were open.
This was it, then. I would become no more than a crumpled empty dress. Only my bones would be left to sing the truth of my death.
And so the second part of my tale is told, and with it another candle goes out.
PART THREE
13
Medlar
I had always believed that there was only one world, the world I had been born into. Now I know that the world we live in is nothing more than a mirror that reflects another world below its silvery surface, a land where time is but a small and unimportant thing, stripped of all its power. For me it was my salvation, for without it I would be no more than dead bones in an oak chest in a grand house that once belonged to a London merchant.
I was certain that my end was near, that death was waiting for me. Terrified, I made one last desperate effort to push the lid open. It was hopeless, and I felt the darkness beginning to smother me.
Then there was light, wonderful light, blinding light, like the curtains being drawn back at a playhouse. I feared that I must be dead, for winter had melted away and here was summer as bright as Bartholomew Fair, with trumpets blazing, drums beating, and a chorus of crickets and birdsong to greet me. Wild flowers giddy in their scented finery and cow parsley as pretty as lace nodded in the breeze; hedgerows beckoned like market stalls full of fresh blackberries, and ripe strawberries giggled in their red gowns. The sky was blue, without a cloud to trouble it.
I turned round with a start to see a strange-looking man standing there. He had a long beard tied into a knot, and was holding a lantern as round as the moon. As surprising as he appeared, still there was something familiar about him, which rattled me, for I knew I had never met this man before.
‘Wondrous fair!’ he said, giving a deep bow. ‘I was beginning to think you would not come. What took you so long?’