by Ann Swinfen
‘I shall keep it for our bedroom,’ Alice said. ‘If I put it in the kitchen, Huw is certain to tread on it with muddy feet and I shall never hear the last of it from Mistress Cox. A bare floor can be swept and scrubbed easily. I quite enjoy it.’
I laughed. ‘You may come and scrub my kitchen floor any time you like,’ I said, ‘for I do not enjoy it.’
The day before the great ceremony of moving in, Jack was taking his cart to Peterborough market to sell a mixed lot of our goods. He would not have such high prices as at Lincoln market, but it was nearer and he could be there and back in a day.
‘Now,’ I said, as I gave him a basket of knitted caps and two baby shawls to sell, ‘I want you to take my earnings and buy a set of the best dishes you can find. Nothing crude, mind. Two large plates, two small plates, two bowls, and two ale cups. The very best you can find. If there is not enough coin, I will pay you the rest from my next earnings.’
‘Have you not enough dishes already, Mercy?’
‘They are for Alice and Rafe. And mind you keep it secret.’
I hoped there would be something pretty to buy in Peterborough. There would have been more choice in Lincoln, but no one would be going there for another month.
There was to be a feast in the new house that evening, to which the whole village had been invited, so late in the afternoon we all walked down the lane, carrying our contributions – two roast wild geese, one large whole drum of cheese, a pot of pickled eels, some of our smoked fish and potted duck, as well as Kitty’s blanket and my clothes for the children. For once it wasn’t raining.
It had taken some persuading to convince Ben that he should come. He was still nervous of crowds of people, but we kept reminding him that he had known everyone here for months, and indeed had spent much of the previous winter sharing the church with them. Eventually he agreed to come, but he trailed along behind us, his face tense and unhappy.
Alice was delighted with all the food and with the gifts we had made. As when she was carrying Huw, she bloomed during this pregnancy, her skin glowing and her eyes bright. She had still nearly two months to go, but she patted the neat round of her apron.
‘I think this will be a large baby, like Huw.’
I was surprised, though pleased, that she looked so content. Huw’s birth had been dangerous. She had nearly died, and would have done, left to the mercies of Meg Waters, the village midwife. It was only the intervention of Hannah that had saved both mother and child.
‘This is a wonderful feast,’ I said, as I helped Alice lay the food out on the new table, which shone with wax, undamaged as yet with the hard use inflicted on a farm table.
‘I feel a little guilty,’ Alice said. ‘We are all low in provisions for the winter, and everyone has been so generous.’
‘We had no harvest feast this year, for there was nothing to celebrate. Let us enjoy celebrating your new home before the winter depresses us all.’
‘It has already seemed like winter for months,’ she said. ‘If they repair the pumping mill, do you suppose that will cause another flood?’
I sighed. ‘It could, especially if we have a heavy winter rain storm. At any rate, Will knows how to stop the pump. Another time we will stop it at the first sign of a flood. He has also explained to Joshua and Ephraim how to stop theirs, so they will not need to smash it.’
‘Van Slyke may leave men here to keep a watch on the mills in future,’ she said.
‘He may. If only we could take them the court! Not van Slyke and his men, but the people they work for.’
‘We need to discover who they are, first.’
I nodded.
‘Jack says Joshua told him that Edmund Dillingworth is come back to the manor,’ she said.
I shuddered. ‘In that case, I shall not be calling there in a hurry.’
Alice walked to the open kitchen door and looked out down the street.
‘I hope they will be back from Peterborough soon,’ she said. ‘I asked Jack to buy some fancy cakes from the baker there.’
‘There was no need for that! Your own cakes are better than any bought in Peterborough.’
I went to join her at the doorway.
‘Look,’ I said. ‘There they are. Just coming up the slope from the bridge.’
We both ran out into the street. Jack’s cart came rumbling up toward us, lurching a little in the ruts. Toby had gone with him to Peterborough, but there were not just two men in the cart. There were four.
‘It is Tom!’ I cried. ‘That is Tom sitting next to Jack! And another man I have never seen before.’
I flew down the street, my cap falling off and streaming behind me on its ribbons. He had not been taken by the plague, or any other London mishap. Others followed after me, alerted by my shout. Jack drew up with a flourish in front of his house and Tom climbed down. He was a little awkward, but he moved as though he had two legs, and he was using only one crutch. I could scarce believe my eyes.
‘You are safe!’ I hugged him hard, only too aware how worried I had been. ‘Why have you not written?’
Before he could answer, Gideon was there, clapping him on the shoulder, and Nehemiah shaking him by the hand, and Alice standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. All the village was firing questions at him.
‘Where have you come from?’
‘We thought you were in London.’
‘How do you come to be with Jack?’
Toby answered this last question. ‘We were just taking down our stall in Peterborough market when Joseph Thompson, the London carrier, drove up, with Tom sitting up beside him.’
‘We thought we must stay in Peterborough overnight, and come on by carter tomorrow,’ Tom said. ‘Then I caught sight of these two rogues.’
‘Then you are just in time for our celebration,’ Rafe said.
‘Aye, Jack and Toby have told us that you now have a house of your own.’
While all this was happening, I kept a firm hold of Tom’s arm, but I noticed that the stranger had climbed down from the cart and was standing a little apart.
‘Tom,’ I whispered, ‘who is this other gentleman?’
‘Anthony!’ Tom called, ‘Don’t hide away there! I said you should meet my sister, and here she is.’
The man stepped forward, smiling.
‘Mercy, this is Anthony Thirkettle, barrister-at-law. I do not know how I should have fared in London without him. I should probably be lying dead in a ditch now. Anthony, this is my sister, Mercy Bennington.’
‘Mercy Chandler,’ I corrected him. ‘I am married now.’
The man bowed and smiled more broadly. ‘I am honoured to meet you. I have heard some remarkable tales of your adventures.’
I blushed, wondering which of my unmaidenly exploits he had heard about.
‘And where is my new brother-in-law?’ Tom was clearly in high spirits. ‘Gideon, where are you now? He was here a moment ago.’
‘By your elbow, Tom,’ Gideon said. ‘Master Thirkettle, I am equally honoured to meet you. I am not sure how you preserved Tom from dying in a ditch, but having known him since he was a boy, I am not altogether surprised.’
He laughed. ‘Please call me Anthony. I feel I know all of you already, for Tom never stops speaking of his family and friends.’
‘But I do not understand,’ I said. ‘I thought you would both have duties at Gray’s Inn.’
‘Term has finished for the summer,’ Anthony said. ‘The courts are closed and all lawyers with a grain of sense escape the heat and smells of a London summer to enjoy the peace of the country.’
‘It is well past most of the summer by now,’ I said bluntly. ‘Past harvest too. And I know nothing of the weather in London, but there has been little heat here.’
Tom laughed. ‘I warned you, Anthony. My sister possesses a relentless logic. She would make a good lawyer.’
I found myself blushing again. ‘I did not mean to sound ungracious. We are so pleased to see you, both of you. After the celebra
tion for Alice and Rafe, we will all go back to Turbary Holm.’
Some of the villagers were beginning to drift toward the new house. I spoke to Tom in a lowered voice.
‘So, you did not succeed in finding the charter.’
He turned away from me and rummaged in his knapsack, which was still lying on the seat of the cart. He drew something out and waved it in the air.
‘The charter granting our rights to the common lands!’ he shouted.
There was a moment of absolute stillness, then everyone came rushing back, shouting, crowding around Tom, reaching out to touch the scroll he held in his hand with the tips of their fingers, as if they could not believe it was real.
I turned to Anthony. ‘It is truly the charter?’
‘It is.’
‘And it grants us the rights to our lands?’
‘Unequivocally.’
‘I cannot believe it.’
‘It is true. We have quite a story to tell you. Of course, this is only the first step. We must next identify all the partners in the company of adventurers and take them to court.’
My face fell. ‘It will take a long time and cost us a great deal of money.’
‘It is like to take a long time, but we can probably secure a court order to stop the works until the case is settled. As for cost, I have told Tom I will act for you, for no fee.’
‘You cannot do that.’
‘I can. I have been involved in the search from the first. I want to see this through to the end.’
‘Come.’ Rafe was urging everyone toward his new house. ‘Now we shall have a double celebration. A new home for Alice and Huw and me, a new hope for future for all of us.
The celebration that evening was one of the most joyous I have ever known. Alice and Rafe were popular in the village, and everyone was glad to see them in a home of their own. If the over-excited children did run in and out spreading mud on the spotless kitchen floor, even Mistress Cox seemed not to mind. It was not her kitchen floor, after all. Perhaps she was as glad to have her immaculate house back to herself as Alice and Rafe were glad to move into their own home.
Yet I think the most powerful sense of joy came from the knowledge that we now possessed the charter. Anthony was right, of course. It was only the first step. The long battle in the courts lay ahead and I do not suppose many of us had illusions about that. Our enemies were powerful men, and rich. They would be formidable opponents.
When little remained of the feast but crumbs and dirty dishes, people began to drift homewards, some carrying sleepy children, until only a few of us were left in Alice’s kitchen. Huw was asleep on Rafe’s lap as Kitty and I cleared the table.
‘Leave that,’ Alice said, stifling a yawn. ‘I shall deal with it all tomorrow. My mother is coming to help us move in.’
‘At least let me make a space for this.’ I fetched my basket from the shelf where I had placed it when Jack had passed it to me quietly. He winked at me now.
‘This is a small present so that you and Rafe do not need to eat always from cracked dishes.’
Alice removed the cloth and lifted out the dishes Jack had bought for me in Peterborough. They were not the sort of fine wares one might buy in London, but they were neatly made, glazed in white and painted with a pattern of blue flowers and orange berries. Alice’s face lit up with a joyful smile.
‘They are beautiful, Mercy!’ She hugged me, as best she could over the hump of the baby.
‘I had to trust to Jack’s judgement,’ I said, ‘but he seems to have fared none too badly.’
Jack threw up his hands in mock despair. ‘Gratitude!’
‘I am grateful, Jack. You did very well.’
Kitty had cleared the rest of the table and wiped it over, despite Alice’s words. Now she sat down on a bench, very close to Tom, I noticed.
‘Good,’ Tom said. ‘I am glad we have some space now. I have something else to show you, besides the charter.’
He glanced at Anthony, who nodded, then he reached inside his shirt and pulled out two folded papers which bore wax seals.
‘We have not had time to tell you the full story, but when we were searching Bencher Blakiston’s chambers, I found something else. Something locked away with the charter. Could we have another candle?’
Gideon fetched a candle from the mantel shelf and lit it from the one already standing on the table. We all leaned closer, even Ben, who had forgotten his reluctance of earlier.
‘They look like letters,’ I said.
‘They are letters. Do you recognise the seal, Mercy?’ Tom held one so that I could make out the seal in the candlelight.
‘It is the Dillingworth seal.’
‘It is. These are letters of instruction from Sir John to Blakiston. I am sure there must be others. These were both sent this year.’
He paused and looked around at the intent faces. Alice and Rafe, Toby, Will and Liz, Jack, Ben, Anthony, Kitty, Gideon and me.
‘These letters instruct Blakiston to keep the charter carefully concealed and to make sure that I should have no chance to lay hands on it. They also contain orders to be conveyed to van Slyke with regard to the drainage works. He writes with the authority of the company of adventurers, of which he is the leading member.’
For a moment there was a stunned silence, then I gulped for air, for I felt all the air had been struck from my lungs.
‘Betrayal!’ I cried.
‘Betrayal,’ Tom echoed. ‘All this while, when our father and the others when to him for help, when he has made us promises, specious promises . . . he was behind the whole scheme from the start. And sent his son to prevent me from finding the charter.’
‘How–’ I could hardly find the words.
‘It was Edmund Dillingworth who was behind the attacks on Tom,’ Anthony said quietly. ‘He might have been killed.’
I looked at my brother, shocked, and reached out to take his hand.
‘Later,’ he said. ‘I will tell you everything later.’
‘But I don’t understand,’ Kitty said in a small voice, as if she hardly dared venture her opinion. ‘Why would Sir John want to destroy the commons? He is a commoner himself.’
Tom smiled at her. ‘That was why we were misled, Kitty. You are quite right. He is a commoner. But his share of the common land is tiny. Nothing to compare with the rest of his estate. That was why we supposed he would not stir himself much in our defence. But if he holds the largest share in this company, and if they seize the common lands in five parishes, he will become a very, very rich man indeed.’
‘I see.’ Kitty suddenly looked furious. ‘I hate him! He should be hanged!’
Anthony leaned across the table and took her hand. ‘No one will hang him, Kitty, but I will fight with every weapon and argument I can command to destroy him in court.’
For a while we sat discussing all the news Tom and Anthony had brought, but I think the rest of us were still so stunned that we could barely take it in. Alice took the sleepy Huw from Rafe and said she must put him to bed. Kitty and Ben set off for the farm. Tom said he would take Anthony along to the yel-hus to introduce him to the sort of decent brew of beer a fenland country landlord could provide, and most of the others said they would go with them.
As we stepped out into the cool night air, Anthony said, ‘Tom is forgetting I am a fenlander myself, though not a countryman.’
‘You are a fenlander?’ I said.
‘From Ely.’
‘Then you are one of us.’ That seemed to make it right that he would fight our battle for us in the courts.
Gideon and I bade the others good-night and began to stroll slowly up the lane toward Turbary Holm. I slipped my arm through his.
‘Tom is looking well,’ he said, ‘despite these beatings he has suffered.’
‘He does. And this new mechanical leg is remarkable. He was so bitter after the amputation. Perhaps now he can begin to live his life again.’
Gideon laughed and squeezed my arm. ‘
I think he has already begun to live quite a lively life already!’
We walked on in silence for a little way. We were rarely alone together, and there was something I wanted to tell him.
‘Look at that sky,’ he said.
In the west, where far away the inland wolds rose up, the sun had sunk behind the land, leaving the sky glowing as orange as new-minted pure gold. And by some trick of the light, thin banks of clouds out to the east had caught the reflection, turning bright gold themselves. Over toward the Fen, here and there amongst the whispering rushes, a wink of gold showed where a mere lay.
‘It is beautiful,’ I said. ‘I know we have not won the battle yet, but I feel such a lift of my heart, despite the betrayal of the Dillingworths. Tom finding the charter – it gives us hope after so much despair. Our lands will be ours again. And our children’s after us.’
I stopped, standing there in the lane under that golden sky.
‘I have something to tell you, Gideon.’
Suddenly I felt both elated and shy.
He cupped my face in his hands. ‘What is it, dear heart?’
‘I am with child.’
He drew a deep breath. ‘Then our joy is complete.’
The very gold of the sky enfolded us, and he kissed me.
We resumed our walk along the lane as a blackbird – surely the same blackbird – sang in the hedgerow, and a hoolet, hunting early, swooped silently over our heads.
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Praise for Ann Swinfen’s Novels
‘an absorbing and intricate tapestry of family history and private memories … warm, generous, healing and hopeful’