[Roger the Chapman 03] - The Hanged Man (3 page)

But there was no need for Lillis to risk the night streets, as her mother had probably guessed. The threat of authority was sufficient to frighten her unwelcome visitor and make him withdraw in a hurry. There was something which sounded like a curse, the lantern bobbed and dipped and then the light disappeared. Margaret Walker shut and barred the door for the second time that evening, and returned to her seat by the fire. I expected her to be upset, but when she spoke, she sounded more angry than perturbed.

'I think they've realized I'm in earnest and won't bother us again. At least, let's hope so. If they do, then they'll have to understand...'

But what the mysterious 'they' would be made aware of, I was not at that point destined to know. The lettuce powder had done its work and I heard no more. I fell asleep as abruptly as a candle-flame is doused by the snuffers.

I have said that I had three moments of clarity during those early days of my illness, and of the two I have recounted, I was perfectly certain. They remained fixed in my memory long after I was up and about and taking my first cautious steps about the room. Of the third, however, I retained doubts for some time, until Lillis herself unblushingly assured me that it was true; that I had not dreamt it, that she had indeed crept naked into my bed to warm me when I was in the throes of one of the terrible shivering fits which seized me during the onset of the fever.

'You were so cold,' she said, propping her elbow on the table and cupping her chin in one hand. She regarded me unblinkingly across the narrow board, her gaze wide and limpid as though what she was admitting to was the most natural thing in the world. And so I might have thought it in this strange elfin creature, half woman, half child, except for a gleam of prurience lurking at the back of the eyes; those enormous dark eyes which seemed at times to be the whole of her face.

I could feel the hot colour mounting my cheeks, and was thankful that I had not yet found the energy to shave.

A week's growth of strong, springy, blond hair was sufficient to mask my blushes.

My companion went on a little breathlessly. 'I only asked if you remembered because you haven't mentioned what happened, and I wasn't sure if you did. Remember, I mean. And if you did, you might blurt it out in front of Mother, and she.., well, she might not understand.' This I could believe. I cleared my throat and answered as steadily as I was able, 'Yes, I do recall... That is, I thought what happened, happened. But I wasn't sure if I had dreamt it or not.'

Lillis gave her small, secretive smile and flicked me an upwards glance from beneath her long lashes. 'Oh no, you didn't dream it. It was that first night after we brought you home. You were on the mattress on the floor and Mother and I were in bed. She was fast asleep and so were you, but then in the early hours of the morning you grew restless, moaning and tossing. Then you began to shiver violently. Your teeth were chattering and you couldn't seem to get warm. I slid out of bed to put another piece of turf on the fire, but then.., well... I thought it a better idea to get under the blankets with you and wrap you in my arms.' The smile deepened and the eyes became like a cat's: two gleaming slits. 'And it soothed you. After a while, you stopped shaking and fell asleep.

So I stayed with you until the first crack of light showed through the shutters, when I crept back to bed. And not a moment too soon. Mother was stirring within minutes, but she suspected nothing, and there's no need that she should ever know.' "

'I certainly shan't tell her,' I assured Lillis fervently.

She gave a little crow of laughter. 'You're embarrassed! A great lad like you who's probably had a score of girls! I wonder why.'

I would have been hard put to it myself to explain why the thought of her naked body curled close to mine, even though I knew nothing of it, made me so uncomfortable. She was right; there had been women in plenty these past two years since, an innocent escaping from the religious life, I had laid my first girl on the banks of the River Stour, in far-off Kent. Was it because I already suspected that she had marked me down as her own? The huntress and her quarry.

It was late afternoon, some fortnight after I had entered Bristol through the Pithay Gate, and for the fourth or fifth day running I had been allowed to get up, wash and dress myself and take a few tentative steps up and down the room. Tomorrow I would definitely be rid of my beard, and as soon as possible after that I must start looking for other lodgings where I could stay until I was fit enough to take to the road once more with my pack. I had insisted on sleeping on the floor again at nights, thus enabling the women to return to their bed, but the confined space was becoming an embarrassment, as well as making me feel hemmed in.

Margaret Walker, who had finished spinning for the day, had taken her yam to the weaving sheds, and would be back presently with her two willow panniers dangling from their shoulder-yoke and packed with new wool. Outside, the weather continued icy-cold and wet, the relentless spears of rain soaking the cobbles, making the stones treacherous to walk on and causing the pack-animals to slither miserably beneath their loads. So much I had been able to observe from the open doorway before Lillis had scolded me back to the warmth of the fire. And it was when I had settled myself on a stool at one end of the table, my feet extended towards the blaze on the hearth, that she had come to sit opposite me and asked if I remembered her getting in beside me that first night.

Now, our conversation had petered out, and we sat in silence, Lillis continuing to watch me, more than ever like a cat with a mouse, while I resolutely avoided her gaze, staring into the burning heart of the fire. And it was thus that Margaret Walker found us when she at last returned, a gust of bitter wind almost lifting her off her feet as she came through the doorway, in spite of the heavy baskets hanging at her sides.

'You're both very quiet,' she said, lowering her burdens to the floor and unhooking them from the wooden yoke.

She shook the drops of water from her cloak and put back her hood, exclaiming sharply as she did so, 'Lillis! Why haven't you begun to get the meal? You haven't even put the water on to boil, let alone prepared the vegetables for the pot.'

Lillis grimaced but, to her credit, she never took exception however harsh her mother's tone, and sometimes Margaret's admonitions were unmerited. She rose good-humouredly to her feet, reached down the iron pot from its place on the shelf beside the door, and filled it from the water barrel in one comer. When I would have helped her carry it to the fire, Margaret told me shortly to sit down.

'You're not fit to lift things yet, and besides, we have to manage by ourselves when you're not here. We're both willing and able.'

I had to admit that Lillis, for all her apparent fragility, had great strength in her stick-like arms, and made no more ado about hooking the full pot on to the crossbar of the cooking crane than she might have done about lifting a jar of flowers. I retired once more to my stool, where I sat watching the two women chop up the herbs and root vegetables which provided the staple ingredients of the afternoon meal. For dinner, we had had some salted mutton with our broth, but a lump of bacon fat was considered sufficient to give whatever flavour was needed to our supper stew. And, ladled over a slice of wheat and rye bread, it would suffice to curb my swiftly reviving appetite.

Margaret looked up from her chopping and gave me a smile. 'You're beginning to get the colour back in your cheeks at last, what I can see of them under that beard.'
 

'It's coming off tomorrow,' I promised. I shifted uneasily on my stool, rightly foreseeing that my next words might cause trouble. 'And then I must be off, to Wells, if I can make it,' I added, coming to a sudden decision. 'It was where I was heading when I lost my way, coming up from Salisbury. It's my birthplace. I was hoping to renew some old acquaintance of my mother’s and find a berth for the winter.'

The consternation on both their faces was writ large.

'But you can't think of walking twenty miles or more in your condition,' Margaret protested angrily. 'I've never heard such foolishness!'

'You have a place to stay. Here!' Lillis wailed. 'You can't desert us, not after all we've done for you!' But this remark only diverted her mother's wrath on to Lillis's own head. 'What we've done, we've done because it was our Christian duty, my girl, and don't you forget it! It's not a weapon to force Roger's hand and make him do something he doesn't wish to.' Margaret turned back to me. 'Take no notice of her, lad. Never consider yourself beholden to us for a minute. I'm only thinking of your health, although I don't deny we'd both be glad of your company if you changed your mind and decided to stay.

It's lonely, just the two of us, these long, dark nights.' Lillis nodded agreement. 'Especially since Grandfather died and there's been all the whispering behind our backs. And sometimes people pass remarks openly within our hearing. As though what happened was our fault, or had anything to do with us! We're just as ignorant of the truth as the rest of them.' She caught Margaret's eye and added impatiently: 'He's going to hear the story sooner or later, Mother, if he stops, So he might as well hear it from us and not just anyone. At least what we tell him will be fact and not just rumour.' She laughed triumphantly. 'Look! I've aroused his interest, you can see it in his face.

Who knows,' Lillis went on mockingly, 'Roger might even be able to resolve the mystery for us!'

Chapter Three

At Lillis's last words, I felt again that mounting sense of excitement blended with resentment which I had experienced twice before, on the two previous occasions when I had been sure that God was using me as His instrument of retribution. When I had discarded the religious life, some three years earlier and against my dead mother's wishes, to gain my independence on the open road, it had not occurred to me that God might demand some return for the loss of my poor services. But He had given me a cool-thinking brain and a sharp eye for detail, which, allied with a tender conscience, had twice now caused me Io turn aside from my own affairs and resolve those of others. And here I was, once more the recipient of an obvious cry for help by two women who had made me their debtor. For although Margaret Walker immediately distanced herself from her daughter's suggestions, her need for a sympathetic listener with whom to share whatever trouble she had was plain for me to see.

In a last, desperate bid for freedom, I said, 'It isn't fit that two women should be sharing their cottage with a strange man, a single room housing the three of us. You'll find yourselves the subject of gossip, and I should be loath to have that laid at my door.'

Margaret paused in her vegetable chopping and glanced up with a derisive smile. 'Lad, I'm old enough to be your mother and, furthermore, I'm a respectable widow. So why should I not have the benefit of your intention to take permanent lodgings for the winter, rather than some woman in Wells? Surely I'm as deserving of your money as she is? And, as you know, there is an outside privy, and a curtain which we can pull to divide the room in two when privacy is needed indoors. As soon as you are fit again, you can as easily ply your trade around Bristol as Wells, and more than likely, the pickings will be better.

However, if you're determined to go, I can't stop you, but only wish you Godspeed.'

Her arguments were irrefutable, and my heart sank while she made them, for there was no escaping the fact that I owed her and Lillis more than I could adequately repay. At the same time, I felt that quickening of interest which Lillis's words had aroused, and could almost see the end of my nose quivering with anticipation, like a dog scenting a buried bone. My mother always complained of my insatiable curiosity, and my inability to keep that same nose out of other people's business, prophesying that it would do me no good.

'Very well,' I capitulated, 'I'll stay with you until spring if you'll have me. But you must accept payment for the past fortnight's lodging, and I'll not take no for an answer. I've sufficient money to support myself for several weeks, although some I must necessarily keep back to replenish my pack, which I can do easily enough from the cargo ships which tie up here at Redcliffe Wharf. On that condition, I'll stop.'

Although neither woman's face displayed the slightest sign of triumph, I could sense the relief in both of them; an easing of the tense lines around the mouth and a lightening of the brow.

'Tomorrow, I'll borrow a truckle bed from Nick Brimble,' Margaret said, plying her knife again and tossing chopped leek and turnip into the iron pot, where the water was beginning to bubble gently in the fire's heat.

I nodded, bowing to the inevitable. 'And this story you were going to tell me about your father?' I asked. I saw Margaret's lips tighten and added, 'Lillis is right. If I'm Io live with you, it's as well I should know of any trouble. Others will make it their business to see that I do, even if you keep me in ignorance.'

'There you are, Mother!' Lillis gave me a blinding smile. 'Roger agrees with me, and it's only fair he should know what happened.'

Margaret hesitated before nodding a reluctant agreement. 'But we'll eat first. After supper, we can be cosy by the fire and no one likely to disturb us. There's a cutting wind blowing off the river and an icy sleet. Not a night for anyone to be about.' I wondered if she were thinking, as I was, of that mysterious nocturnal visit she had received so recently, but she gave no sign of unease.

'There, that's the last of the vegetables. The stew shouldn't take long now.'