The Somerset Tsunami

by Emma Carroll

  ‘I trust you have hot water and soap ready for me?’ Dr Blood asked.

  ‘Indeed.’ Mistress Bagwell opened the door, indicating that he should go with her.

  And so he did, though as he passed he glared at me as if every tooth in my head needed pulling. Instinctively, I clamped my mouth shut.

  Once they’d gone, and I was alone with Master Ellis, I moved nearer the bed.

  Be polite, I told myself, don’t pick your nose, don’t chew the ends of your fingers where the skin sometimes flakes, and for goodness’ sake don’t stare.

  ‘Are you well, master?’ I asked, which was stupid to say but the first thing that came into my head.

  Shuffling into a sitting position, he regarded me with huge grey eyes that even then glinted with mischief. I stared back – I couldn’t help it. He looked so much like Susannah, only a couple of years older, with brown hair that didn’t curl, and a face more given to smiling.

  ‘Who are you?’ Master Ellis spoke like his mouth was full of padding.

  ‘I’m Fortune.’

  ‘Intriguing name for a boy, though you don’t appear very fortunate,’ he commented.

  Nor do you, I thought. His cheeks were whiter than clean laundry. A couple of thumb-sized bruises were coming up nicely on his jaw where the tooth-barber had gripped it.

  ‘Your father has hired me to be your servant,’ I said, just so he knew I wasn’t anything to do with Dr Blood. ‘He says I’m to help you become more of a man.’

  A look flashed over Master Ellis’s face – part indignant, part amused.

  ‘More of a man, eh?’ he said, considering it. ‘Did my father speak those very words?’

  ‘Ummm … well, yes … in a way …’ But the more I tried to explain the more knotted my tongue became.

  Anyway, Master Ellis was already laughing.

  ‘Oh, that’s quite the finest thing I’ve ever heard!’ he cried.

  ‘Is it?’ I was confused.

  ‘Oh yes! Thank you, Fortune. I haven’t laughed that much in months!’

  Maybe it was nerves or tiredness or the fact I rather liked him, but Master Ellis’s laughter made me start to giggle. So when the bedchamber door opened and Susannah flew in, she found the pair of us cackling like old hens.

  ‘Oh!’ She stopped mid-stride. The baby was with her, bound in cloth and tied to her chest like working women did with theirs. ‘I see you’ve met our new servant, Ellis.’

  Ellis wiped his eyes. ‘Dear sister! Can you believe it? Fortune here is Father’s latest attempt to turn me into the perfect son. No offence meant, Fortune,’ he added to me.

  ‘None taken, master,’ I said, though now the laughter had stopped I was confused all over again. I felt shifty too: Susannah watched me with the sort of cleverness that saw straight through my disguise. I was glad when her attention switched to Master Ellis’s tooth.

  ‘Oh, Ellis, did it hurt?’ she asked, climbing up beside him on the bed. From deep inside the folds of cloth, the baby gurgled.

  ‘Agony. I despise that wretched man,’ Ellis replied, then said to the baby, ‘Greetings, Busy Bea! You’ve come to entertain me too, have you?’

  The baby, hearing his voice, squirmed enthusiastically. They looked a close, affectionate family all together like that, and it made me miss my own. Even Susannah was smiling, which made her whole face change. At least it did until she realised I was still here, standing awkwardly by the bed.

  ‘Have you no work to do?’ she asked sharply.

  ‘I’m to tend Master Ellis,’ I said.

  ‘His bedclothes need replacing. See to it, will you?’

  But as I came closer she changed her mind.

  ‘Oh, I’ll do it. Here, take Bea.’ She was already unwrapping the baby and holding the wriggling creature towards me.

  ‘No, miss, I’ll do the bedclothes,’ I replied quickly.

  From the smirk on Master Ellis’s face I guessed I’d spoken out of turn. But I was wary of babies, not like Abigail, who crooned and clucked every time she saw one at market. In truth, I found them slightly terrifying.

  With Master Ellis moved to a nearby chair, I set to work on the bedclothes. There was clean linen in a chest at the foot of the bed – bedsheets, pillow slips, mattress covers, top sheets. I’d no idea rich people slept under so many layers of cloth, or how to arrange them. By the time I’d finished the bed was no neater, but at least it was clean.

  Master Ellis crawled between the sheets groaning in discomfort.

  ‘Fetch me something for the pain,’ he pleaded.

  ‘A glass of port wine?’ Susannah suggested.

  ‘My mother swears by yarrow root for toothache,’ I said, scooping up the soiled linen. ‘Or willow bark, and a touch of vinegar for infection. Tastes vile but it works wonders.’

  Susannah fired a look at Master Ellis. He tried to say something, but his mouth had filled with blood, and he needed to spit it out. I pushed the pan in front of him with my foot.

  ‘Fetch the port wine from the kitchen,’ Susannah instructed me.

  ‘But, miss,’ I suddenly remembered. ‘Your father said no pain relief—’

  She looked at me. ‘Fortune, you don’t seem the type to follow every single rule. Am I right?’

  Under that knowing gaze of hers, I felt nervous again.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ I mumbled, and hurried out of the room.

  With the door closed behind me, I paused just long enough to take a deep, deep breath. Inside the room, the hum of voices started up. I didn’t mean to listen but they were talking about me.

  ‘You know Fortune is usually a girl’s name, don’t you?’ This was Susannah.

  I froze.

  Ellis mumbled something I didn’t catch.

  ‘Really, brother, I don’t know what Father was thinking of, hiring such an imbecile to tend you,’ Susannah went on. ‘We’re a wealthy, landowning family, not an alms house for the poor.’

  I glowered at the door.

  ‘I like Fortune,’ Ellis answered. ‘He’s got spirit. Though I can’t imagine what Father’s hoping to achieve with him.’

  ‘Well, I believe he’s hiding something,’ Susannah said.

  ‘And we’re not, I suppose?’ Master Ellis replied.

  There was a shuffling. A sound of floorboards creaking.

  ‘Though if Father heard him recommending herbs like that, he’d put him out of the house in a moment.’ This was Master Ellis again.

  ‘Really!’ Susannah’s temper flared. ‘What happened to our mother had nothing to do with herbs!’

  ‘No, but Father’s convinced it did.’

  ‘Then he’s wrong,’ she snapped.

  The baby started crying. A proper roar it was too, like the world had suddenly ended. Remembering my errand, I hurried away.

  *

  Down in the kitchens, I found Mistress Bagwell swilling out a bucket of bloody water. The tooth-barber, thankfully, appeared to have gone.

  ‘Messy work, tooth-pulling,’ she sighed, taking the sheets from me and filling more buckets. ‘Especially when he’s doing it.’ Which I took to mean she didn’t think much of Dr Blood, either. I’d already made a note to keep out of his way.

  ‘What do you make of our young master, then?’ Mistress Bagwell asked. Like my sister, she had a nose for gossip, which might be useful, especially in a house like this, where I knew nothing yet and was feeling it keenly.

  ‘He’s probably not at his best just now,’ I ventured.

  ‘True enough,’ she agreed. ‘What with his poor mother dying and leaving a baby, and he was already so angry at his father.’

  ‘What about?’ I asked, keen to hear more.

  We were back in the kitchen now. Mistress Bagwell, having guessed I’d been sent down for wine, took a bottle from a high-up cupboard and poured some into a tiny glass without spilling a drop.

  ‘All this, that’s what he’s angry about.’ Mistress Bagwell gestured to the pewter plates, the meat, the locked cupb
oard where sugar was kept. Everything breathed luxury and wealth. ‘One day Master Ellis will inherit everything – the house, the staff, his father’s business – and he doesn’t want any part of it. It’s bought with merchant’s money, you see, got from trading sugar.’

  ‘Mr Spicer trades sugar?’ She might as well have said gold. Everyone wanted sugar these days, but only the very wealthiest could afford it, which was probably why rich people like Master Ellis had rotten teeth.

  ‘Does that tooth-barber come here often, then?’ I asked, hoping he didn’t.

  She pulled a face. ‘Often enough. Dr Blood’s an acquaintance of Mr Spicer’s mainly, an investor, like, so he’s mostly here on sugar business. Master Ellis despises him.’

  ‘So I gathered.’

  ‘To be fair, he did need that tooth pulled today,’ she confided. ‘It’s the business side of things he’s most unhappy about. Mr Spicer and Dr Blood have ambitions, you see, to expand trading.’

  With a glance over her shoulder, she dropped her voice, so I guessed we were getting to the nub of the matter.

  ‘They’re trying to get the backing of King James himself. But father and son don’t agree on the king’s views, either.’

  ‘Because of the new Bible?’ I asked. There’d been plenty of cross words over King James’s new version of God’s book, even in Fair Maidens Lane.

  ‘Not just that. Mr Spicer thinks wise women are evil. After what happened with his wife.’

  ‘When she had the baby, you mean? When she died?’ I asked, wary of where this was heading.

  Mistress Bagwell blinked very slowly. ‘He got a midwife in to tend her, though it was a difficult birth and a few plants were never going to save her. When she died, he was a broken man. He swears that the herbs poisoned his wife. Claims the midwife was practising witchcraft.’

  I gulped, my throat suddenly tight. ‘Witchcraft, you say?’

  ‘That’s right. He thinks women are a treacherous lot and not to be trusted, any of us. Think yourself lucky you’re not a girl.’

  12

  The next morning, I was under strict instructions to get Master Ellis out of bed for some fresh air.

  ‘Vigorous exercise is the key to building up his strength and creating a healthy temperament,’ Mr Spicer informed me. ‘My son, you may have already observed, is in dire need of both.’

  I’d observed no such thing but didn’t argue. I wanted to keep my job, because work meant money. And money meant going home as soon as possible. Though to my mind, Master Ellis had seemed as cheery a soul as anyone could be who’d recently lost their mother and a sizeable back tooth.

  On arriving at Master Ellis’s bedchamber I found him already up, dressed and in surprisingly good fettle.

  ‘Ah, Fortune! Glad to see you!’ he beamed.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off his outfit. ‘You look …’ I fumbled for the right word, ‘… recovered, master.’

  He was wearing a yellow brocade doublet over scarlet hose, topped off with a sky-blue cap in which waved a ridiculously large feather. I’d never seen so many colours all together, all at once, not even in a church window.

  Beneath the smiles and brightness, Master Ellis still looked pale. Yet he was buzzing with energy, rushing about the room, gathering things and humming under his breath. Being used to the sight of farm workers’ forearms, I recognised good muscles when I saw them. And Master Ellis might be small, but his shoulders, thighs, calves, were packed with strength, which made Mr Spicer’s comments seem way off the mark.

  ‘I’m sorry for asking again, master,’ I said, for the matter was perplexing me. ‘But this manly business your father speaks of. What do you suppose he has in mind?’

  Master Ellis laughed drily, gesturing at his outfit. ‘Not this, that’s for certain.’

  ‘But he wants you to be strong and healthy, and to me, you already seem both,’ I pointed out.

  He folded his arms, looked at me, head on one side like a curious dog.

  ‘You’re very direct,’ he said. ‘And I like you for it.’

  ‘Your father wants to change you though, doesn’t he?’ I pressed. ‘Only it seems to me there’s lots of ways of being a man. Take my brother – he’s all legs and arms, like a great bony bird, but he’s honest and good—’

  Master Ellis stopped me with his hand.

  ‘I want to show you something. Carry that, will you?’ He pointed to a basket, brimful of what appeared to be ropes and cushions. ‘We’re going down to the beach.’

  This pleased me no end.

  ‘Oh, I do so love the sea! Our shoreline back home is my favourite place in the world!’ I gushed. Then, remembering to add, ‘Very good, master,’ I took hold of the basket. It was far heavier than it looked, and chimed like a clock when I tried to hoist it off the ground. Really, it needed two people to carry it, but Master Ellis was already out of the door.

  Susannah joined us at the head of the stairs. The baby was with her again, arching its back and shrieking to be put down. Susannah looked tired.

  ‘You’re taking Fortune along?’ she asked, surprised. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Quite sure. I believe my new servant understands me very well,’ Master Ellis replied, smiling at me.

  I smiled back, not sure I did understand, not totally. Yet what I did see was how bright he was, how full of life, and that his father was trying to snuff him out like a guttering candle.

  ‘We’d better come with you,’ Susannah said, turning to the baby. ‘Hadn’t we, Bea?’

  Which I took to mean she didn’t yet trust me.

  *

  I had it in my mind that the beach lay on the far side of the woods. But instead of heading for the garden, Master Ellis stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The baby was no longer crying, thankfully. It was as if she sensed where we were going.

  ‘In here, quick!’ Master Ellis said, and pulled me through a doorway. Susannah followed as we went down more stairs into a cellar. On the bottom step Master Ellis took another lantern from its hook, lighting it with flint and tinder from his pocket. He beckoned us to the far corner of the cellar, where between us we moved aside a table. Underneath it, set in the floor, was a trapdoor. I felt a stir of excitement.

  ‘Take this,’ Master Ellis said, meaning one of the door’s rope handles. The other he gave to Susannah, who wrapped it round her wrist.

  Putting down the basket, I grasped the rope. Together, on the count of three, we heaved the door, which was as heavy as a slab of stone. As the trapdoor creaked open, I caught a waft of salt and seaweed, a smell as familiar to me as home. Bea seemed to know the smell too, and squealed in delight.

  ‘Stay close behind us,’ Susannah instructed. ‘And stop grinning like an idiot, Fortune. You’ll need to watch where you put your feet.’

  Master Ellis went first, then Susannah with the baby. We climbed down one ladder, then another longer one. It was tricky-going. The wooden rungs were slippery and I had to hold on for dear life with one hand, the basket in the other, in danger of dropping everything. Susannah’s head was just below my feet, and beyond that Master Ellis’s lantern, making little impression on the darkness. It got blacker and damper the deeper we went, until finally the lantern stopped moving. We’d reached the bottom.

  We were in a long narrow cave with walls that were solid black rock and so wet with running water they glinted. About two hundred yards up ahead was a keyhole of brightness. I could even now hear the shush of the sea.

  ‘One small thing.’ Master Ellis shone the lantern at my face, making me blink. ‘You’re not to mention we’ve been here. Father won’t approve.’

  ‘If anyone asks, we’ve been to the woods,’ Susannah added.

  I wanted to ask why, but felt her eyes on me, daring me to break the fragile trust her brother seemed to be offering.

  ‘Very good,’ I answered, and meant it. The truth was, the more I heard of Mr Spicer, the more I warmed to his son. Anyone who loved the beach was decent in my book.

&
nbsp; As we burst out into daylight, I breathed in great lungfuls of salty air. The effect was immediate: my head cleared, my shoulders relaxed. The benefits of fresh air were one thing Mr Spicer and I could agree on.

  And fresh it was – a bitter cold northerly breeze that quickly numbed my face. The heavy sky made everything look grey: the beach, the grass in the dunes, the sea. Our little cove back home shared this same stretch of coastline, yet the view felt strikingly different. Unlike ours the beach was long and flat, and with the sky up above and the ocean out in front it felt as if we’d all the space in the world.

  Beside me, Master Ellis started stretching his arms above his head.

  ‘Just look at that sea,’ I murmured as much to myself as to him.

  The tide was starting to come in, the waves the gentle, lacy-edged kind that made a lapping sound when they touched the beach.

  ‘Are you going to begin, Ellis?’ Susannah called. She’d spread out her skirts to sit at the bottom of the sand dunes. Bea, now free of her wrappings, was on her knee, twisting her hands through Susannah’s hair.

  With a quick glance back at the house, Master Ellis gestured for me to put down the basket, which I did gladly.

  ‘This is a decent spot, do you see?’ he said.

  From here all that was visible of the house was its garden wall that ran along the top of the beach like a castle’s ramparts. The spot Ellis had chosen was almost directly beneath, so anyone at Berrow Hall looking out of a window would only see beyond us.

  Master Ellis flung his hat down on the sand. He started unbuttoning his doublet, excited and maybe nervous in equal measure.

  ‘I’m afraid I have something else to ask of you,’ he said.

  ‘What is it?’ I wasn’t sure where to look, what with him shedding his clothes, so kept my eyes on the sea.

  ‘First, I’d rather you addressed me by my name.’

  ‘I already do, Master Ellis.’

  ‘Ellis, please. My second request involves you keeping another secret, and I think you’ll find that easier to do if we’re friends.’

  ‘But I’m your servant,’ I said, rather surprised.