The Somerset Tsunami

by Emma Carroll

  Trudging uphill, I grew more distressed. I should’ve held on tighter to Bea. I should’ve fought harder. I dreaded seeing Susannah’s dead body, and having to search her for the crewel work. All I could do was hope it’d been lost in the flood, because I knew all too well which piece she’d hidden up her sleeve – I’d watched her doing it. Even if she was dead, that piece would still cause trouble. It would fuel the arguments that witchcraft was to blame, and if they couldn’t pin the guilt on a dead Susannah, they’d find some other scapegoat.

  Up ahead a woman in dark clothes waved for us to stop. She was standing on what seemed to be the brow of a hill, where sheep grazed on, oblivious. I was starting to wonder how the flood could’ve risen so high and dropped again so fast, when behind her I saw how sharply the ground fell away. About twenty feet down, and glinting in the sunshine, floodwater lay in every direction.

  ‘Only next of kin should come any further.’ The woman barred the way with her arm.

  Around me discussions started up in earnest about who should go from each family. I held back, not wanting to be the first. All the drowned bodies, cows, pigs, horses, I’d seen yesterday flashed in my head. I couldn’t imagine Susannah looking like that, and felt sick all over again.

  ‘You, girl, are you coming or going?’ The old woman’s voice made me snap to attention.

  But she wasn’t talking to me. Another girl had appeared, staggering towards us. She was wearing a nightgown – at least, it might’ve been one once. The garment was shredded at the hem and splattered with mud and goodness knew what. She had a ghostly, staring look to her, even though she was shaking her head at the old woman and saying no, her brother and father weren’t amongst the dead.

  It didn’t occur to me who the girl was until she was almost level with me.

  ‘It’s you!’ I yelped, throwing my arms round her.

  Susannah froze. Then, realising who I was despite my skirts, she hugged me back and burst into tears.

  ‘Oh, Fortune!’ Susannah sobbed. ‘I was so sure everyone had died.’

  Taking her hand, I led her a little way from the crowds. She was shivering, so I put my jacket over her shoulders and gently pushed the hair from her face. I wanted to see her properly, to know it really was her.

  ‘I tried to hold on to you, truly I did,’ I said, tears coming.

  ‘I know.’ She squeezed my hand. ‘But the sea was too strong. I was lucky enough in the end, though.’

  ‘Did someone rescue you? Was it Ellis?’

  ‘No, not him,’ she said sadly. ‘I clung on to a door and floated with it for I don’t know how long. I saw terrible things, Fortune. Things I’ll never forget.’

  ‘Me too.’

  We stood for a moment, letting everything sink in.

  ‘I have some news,’ I said, when she looked a little stronger. ‘Grave news. Do you wish to hear?’

  ‘Tell me. I must bear it.’

  ‘Your father, I’m sorry to say, has drowned,’ I said. ‘And Mistress Bagwell, and Jennet the kitchen maid – I saw them all. I’ve no word about Ellis, though.’

  She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Nodded.

  ‘But please, be happy, because Bea is alive,’ I told her. ‘She’s in Glastonbury.’

  ‘Oh! Thank goodness!’ Susannah’s hands flew to her face.

  ‘Dr Blood has her, presently.’

  ‘The Dr Blood?’ She looked surprised. ‘That’s very decent of him.’

  ‘There’s nothing decent about that man,’ I replied. A glance over my shoulder and I dropped my voice. ‘Listen, have you still got that piece of crewel work?’

  ‘I have.’ She touched her sleeve warily. ‘I should burn it, shouldn’t I? I don’t deserve even to be here after what I’ve done.’

  ‘This flood hasn’t happened because of you,’ I told her firmly. ‘Whatever you think, whatever anyone says, you’re not a—’

  ‘Witch?’

  ‘Shhh!’ I hissed in alarm. ‘Don’t say that word!’

  Yet for the swiftest moment, she did look unusual – eyes as sharp as daggers in a pale pinched face. Not a witch, exactly, but someone mysterious, who I still didn’t feel I knew very well.

  ‘Dr Blood’s got it into his head that your crewel work will win him the king’s favour. He’s desperate to get his hands on it.’ I hesitated. ‘The problem is, he’s holding Bea as a sort of hostage.’

  ‘A hostage? Well, he can have my dratted sewing. I never want to see it again.’ She started to pull the crewel work from her sleeve.

  ‘No!’ I insisted. ‘We can’t give it to him.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We need to grab Bea – somehow – and get away from here as fast as we can.’

  Susannah drew in her chin.

  ‘I refuse to run anywhere,’ she said. ‘If Dr Blood has Bea, as you say, then I’ll simply go and fetch her back.’

  I thought of how he’d kicked me to the ground: my rib was still sore from it. ‘Susannah, the man holding your sister, who wants your crewel work, is a witch-hunter and the local magistrate. He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants.’

  She frowned. ‘No, he’s merely an odious little tooth-puller who happens to be Father’s business partner.’

  ‘Exactly.’ I took a deep breath. ‘He and your father were in it together. I overheard them talking at the Twelfth Night feast, about needing the king’s support to get a sugar cargo across the sea, and a witch-hunt is how they plan to do it. Your father had other motives too, as you know.’

  Very slowly, she seemed to understand.

  ‘Is this about Mother dying, and the midwife’s herbs? Does Father – did Father,’ she corrected herself, ‘want revenge?’

  ‘He did. And now there’s all this flooding. Like your father did when he lost your mother, people are looking for someone to blame.’

  She grew paler.

  ‘You need to trust me,’ I pleaded. ‘We’ll get Bea and go to Fair Maidens Lane, where my family are. We’ll be safe there. My brother will protect us. And we’ll try to find Ellis too.’

  ‘You’re giving a lot of orders, Fortune,’ she remarked.

  True, it wasn’t the normal way of things for a servant to make the decisions. But then, I’d never seen a gentleman’s daughter in a public place wearing only her filthy nightwear, either. The fact was Berrow Hall had gone, and with it the life we’d had there. This new, devastated world of ours was a very different place. Who we’d once been didn’t matter so much any more. First and foremost, we had to be survivors, and that meant getting away from here as fast as we could.

  20

  Dr Blood’s house suited him. The long, low red-tiled building had a look of a lair about it, and its twisted chimneys and tiny latticed windows made the inside seem uncannily dark.

  ‘How dare he take Bea! How dare he!’ Susannah had been saying this – or versions of it – since leaving Mistress Cary’s, where a bowl of stew and Ellen’s remaining spare gown had revived her. ‘If he so much as harms a hair on her head, I’ll march him to the highest court in the land!’

  She was still convinced she could knock on his door and demand her sister’s safe return. I didn’t dare tell her that in her white cap and plain blue gown, she looked like any other village girl.

  Though my plan wasn’t much cleverer: I’d assumed we could hop over the wall and sneak in through the kitchen when the maids were elsewhere. That idea was promptly dashed when we saw Dr Blood’s dogs. There were four of them, the size of bull calves, roaming loose in the garden. They smelt us even before they’d seen us, and hurled themselves at the wall. It made me jump out of my skin. When a maid came outside to investigate the barking, we ducked behind the nearest tree.

  ‘Your next bright idea, please?’ Susannah asked, when the maid had gone inside again, and the dogs calmed down.

  I didn’t have one. What made it worse was hearing Bea, shouting and screeching, inside the house. We could see maids moving in front of the windows, passing
a baby between them. It was awful knowing we couldn’t help.

  ‘Oh, I wish they could settle her,’ Susannah fretted.

  ‘If they just rubbed her back and blew on her face,’ I agreed. ‘She likes that.’

  ‘I thought you weren’t fond of babies.’

  ‘I’m fond of Bea. She can say my name, you know.’

  Susannah tried not to smile.

  *

  We watched the house for an hour or more. The maids kept walking Bea to and fro, though it didn’t do much good. She had stamina, did Bea, when it came to yelling. And from the speed with which each maid was passing her on to the next, it was obvious they were getting fed up. I counted four maids in total. The smoke coming from the chimneys was a sign that Dr Blood was also at home: this was confirmed when we finally heard him shout, ‘FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE, WILL SOMEONE QUIETEN THAT BABY!’

  ‘Perhaps he should get off his backside and try,’ Susannah muttered crossly.

  I’d not heard her say such a coarse word before, but it got me thinking. What if Dr Blood did have to take care of Bea, all by himself? He was keen enough to snatch her from me, so perhaps he should have a taste of what he’d taken on – a real taste, not the half-measures kind where four maids were doing the hard work for him.

  *

  A short while later we’d agreed on a new plan. It involved chicken carcasses and lies – lots of lies – about a pedlar making it through the floods somehow and arriving in Glastonbury with ribbons to sell, and soap, and perhaps even some sugar, and how everyone was rushing to buy what he had. This was Susannah’s idea, because she said no one could resist nice things when they knew everyone else wanted them. Which was a little how it was with the crewel-work piece.

  ‘You have still got it?’ I asked.

  She patted her sleeve, which on Ellen’s dress was wider than her nightgown had been, so I advised her to tuck it up past the elbow.

  ‘Just in case of thieves,’ I said, knowingly.

  ‘You’ve never had anything stolen, have you?’

  ‘Once. At the hiring fair.’ I felt a prickle of anger, recalling it. ‘That woman who nearly hired me before your father came along.’

  Susannah looked thoughtful. ‘Hmmm, I remember. Though I don’t believe she was stealing from you.’

  ‘She ran off with a parcel my mother gave me,’ I insisted. ‘I’d call that thieving.’

  She shrugged. ‘It looked to me as if she’d taken fright at something.’

  ‘What, Maira?’ I wasn’t convinced. The woman I remembered didn’t look the type to be scared of anything – or anyone.

  Susannah was on her feet, brushing dead leaves off her skirts.

  ‘Come,’ she said. ‘We’ve a baby to rescue.’

  *

  The chicken carcasses came from the nearest ale house. I crept into the back kitchen when no one was looking, and took as many as I could carry from the pile waiting for the cooking pot. Back at Dr Blood’s I lobbed a couple over the wall. Just as I’d hoped, the dogs went crazy and were so busy fighting over them, Susannah was able to dash up the path unnoticed.

  I watched with baited breath as she knocked on the door. Having never understood the lure of soap or ribbons, I wasn’t entirely convinced the ruse would work. But Susannah, with her expensive voice, quickly captured the maids’ interest. Or maybe it was the result of a morning with a squawking baby, and they couldn’t wait to leave the house.

  ‘Dr Blood’s not happy. I heard him shouting,’ Susannah whispered, once she’d joined me behind the tree again.

  ‘Good. That’s the plan.’

  Moments later, the door opened, and the maids, baskets tucked under their arms, hurried down the path.

  ‘I FORBID YOU TO GO. COME BACK AT ONCE!’ roared a voice from inside.

  The last maid, giggling, pulled the door shut behind her. They disappeared off down the lane.

  ‘How long do we wait?’ Susannah asked.

  ‘Until he cracks and comes out.’

  We watched the house. I chewed the skin round my fingers. Susannah sucked an end of her hair.

  From inside, Bea’s faint cries could still be heard. This time no one walked her up and down at the window. It was getting harder to listen, to be honest, thinking she’d just been left to sob her heart out.

  Susannah stood up.

  ‘I can’t bear it any more,’ she said. ‘I’m going to get her.’

  She hadn’t taken a step when the front door flew open.

  ‘Get down!’ I hissed.

  She dropped to a crouch again as Dr Blood came storming down the path in his shirtsleeves. Bea wasn’t with him: it was exactly as I’d hoped.

  ‘Can’t be expected to work in these conditions …’ he was muttering. ‘Any more of that racket and I’ll go mad …’

  The dogs ran up to him in greeting, but he pushed them away, charged out of the gate and went after the maids.

  I met Susannah’s eye. ‘Now?’

  She nodded.

  The remaining chicken carcasses went over the wall first, us following quickly behind. We sprinted up the path. The front door was unlocked, but stiff. I shouldered it open and we rushed in. The house was stuffy, smelling of smoke and roasting meat, and though Bea had been in here howling, she certainly wasn’t now. It was deadly quiet.

  ‘Try the kitchen,’ I told Susannah. ‘I’ll look in the upstairs parlour.’

  There was nothing there but a cat fast asleep in a chair. Starting to panic, I ran back downstairs, almost straight into Susannah.

  ‘Look who I found,’ she said.

  Bea, red-faced and wet-eyed, was gazing up at her sister. I nearly sobbed myself with relief.

  ‘We need to hurry,’ I warned. ‘Those chicken carcasses won’t last long.’

  As it was, they were gone, entirely. The dogs’ heads were up: they’d smelt us and were interested. We pelted down the path, as fast as anyone could in long skirts, the dogs giving chase. I reached the wall first and vaulted over. The pain in my rib made me yelp.

  ‘Quick! Take her!’ Susannah cried, handing me Bea.

  She scrambled over the wall, kicking at the dogs as they leaped for her feet. And then she was over, landing awkwardly beside me.

  We grinned at each other. We’d done it. Bea clutched her sister’s hair and giggled.

  As we started walking, Susannah checked her sleeve again for the crewel work. The frown on her face made me stop.

  ‘It’s not there, is it?’ I said, dread upon me.

  She shook out her arm frantically.

  ‘I had it, I swear I did,’ she cried.

  But we both knew the full horror of what had happened: she’d dropped it inside the house.

  21

  We couldn’t go back for the crewel work. Behind Dr Blood’s wall, the dogs were yammering. And in the other direction coming up the lane were the maids, swinging their empty baskets and arguing amongst themselves. Dr Blood was there too, looking the most furious of the lot.

  ‘Quick! Get down!’ I pulled Susannah and Bea behind a nearby woodpile.

  ‘That baby might mean nothing to any of you slatterns,’ Dr Blood was fuming as he went by, ‘but she’s currently my most valuable asset.’

  ‘And we’re only saying, sir,’ one of the maids protested, ‘that we were told in good faith of a pedlar come to town. The girl who said so had breeding, so she did.’

  ‘What girl?’ Dr Blood demanded.

  But they’d hurried past before I could catch the answer.

  ‘We’d better get out of here,’ I said, scrambling to my feet.

  I wasn’t much worried about him discovering Bea was missing – to be honest, he’d probably be glad. It was the likelihood of him finding the crewel work bothered me, and realising it depicted an enormous, terrifying wave, of exactly the kind that had flooded most of coastal Somerset.

  If he wanted King James’s interest, this would get it. It would also, surely, seal Susannah’s fate.

  *


  We hurried down the track as far as it would take us. It was starting to rain – nasty, sleety stuff driven sideways on a bitter wind. By my reckoning, it was only just past midday, but already the light was dim, leaching colour out of everything. It was hard to believe that what lay sullen and brown in the fields all around us was water from my beloved sea.

  By the time we reached the church tower on the hilltop, we were being followed. I felt a surge of panic. Dr Blood had found the crewel work – and us – a bit too quickly. To make matters worse, he had a group of men with him, villagers probably, who’d know the countryside around here better than we did.

  Susannah hadn’t noticed yet. She was trying to wrap Bea in the folds of her dress, and fretting that we’d not thanked Mistress Cary for her kindness when we were still wearing Ellen’s two spare gowns.

  ‘It’s good manners, Fortune,’ she was saying. ‘They’ll think we’re unprincipled thieves.’

  I nudged her to look over her shoulder. ‘Better that than a witch.’

  Dr Blood and the men were gaining on us. They were carrying sticks and pitchforks.

  We started running. On the hillside itself, the track split in many directions. I picked one that dipped out of sight around the back of the church, beckoning Susannah to follow: if we were quick then the building might give us a bit of cover.

  At ground level there wasn’t much to hide behind. The tower was open on all sides to the weather: rain was now streaming in. There was no roof, either, or windows in the arched frames. But there were shallow footholds in the wall.

  ‘We’re not, are we?’ Susannah looked at me, aghast.

  I checked outside: Dr Blood hadn’t yet reached the split in the track. But he wasn’t far behind.

  ‘If he can’t see us, he’ll run straight past,’ I tried to persuade her. ‘It’s either climb the tower or hand ourselves over.’

  ‘Just don’t go too high up,’ Susannah warned me.

  Bea gave a little grumble in protest.