Snap

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

“Where you get that money from?” he demanded as Alfie held up a silver coin. “You stole it, I reckon. You’re all dirty little beggars.”

  “The money is from my father,” said Alice loudly. “We need good ointment and can pay a fair price.”

  The apothecary was still shaking his head when his wife hurried over. “Give the poor boy what he needs,” she scolded her husband, holding out a little pot of white creamy paste which smelled of parsley and other herbs. “Here,” she said, handing it over and accepting the coin. “We make the best salve in London. This works a treat and you’ll soon feel better, young man.”

  The same difficulty arose when they went to a haberdashery, a large shop filled with linen shirts and petticoats. A sharp-nosed woman swooped upon the group as soon as they entered. “I want no beggars in here,” she said. “This is a respectable shop.”

  This time Nathan stepped forwards. “We’re not beggars and we have money from our employer to buy new clothes.”

  “From our master,” interrupted John.

  “From my father,” said Alice.

  “Lies,” objected the woman. “You can’t even get your story straight.”

  “My father is their master who employs them,” said Alice quickly. “They all need proper clothes so they can work in my father’s kitchens and stables. Good shirts, warm tunics and hose, and proper braes too.” She showed the large gold coin in the palm of her hand.

  The shopkeeper immediately changed her attitude and smiled. Five shirts, five tunics, five under-braes and five pairs of hose would be very good business. Everyone sat in the middle of the shop, Alice and Alfie on stools and the others on the floor. John Ten-Toes was dancing around, poking his nose into cupboards and pointing at the piles of warm knitted hose and lacy shifts. The sharp-nosed woman fussed around them, showing items of clothing and assuring the boys that these were the right size and the best she had. Nathan sat a little apart, watching intently. He thought everything looked well made, but it was all plain undyed linen, which was not pure white, and a little thick. Nothing seemed to be made of fine cotton, but no one appeared to mind and one by one they were dressed in long white shirts which tied under their chins, black hose which looked like tights to Nathan, but were knitted woollen and very snug, and over-tunics in various colours. His own was dark blue, broadcloth and he thought it most uncomfortable, but at least this way he ended up looking like everyone else. The braes were white linen underpants and he didn’t like them either because they were rather baggy, but it was better than nothing.

  Alfie’s sheepskin cape had been taken by the baron, but in the new shirt and tunic he seemed warm enough. He threw away his ripped and dirty shirt, bloodstained and very old, but Nathan insisted on keeping a tight hold of his pyjamas.

  Next they moved on to the shoe-makers and ordered a pair of leather shoes each. The cobbler measured all their feet, including Alice, but it was clear he didn’t like touching them. Their feet were exceedingly filthy from running around barefoot, and many had sore and grazed toes with broken nails. Nathan’s were just as bad as the others because there had been no way to wash at all.

  “Well, lads,” said the cobbler, “I’ll make you good shoes with strong bottoms you won’t wear out, and good strong leather on top. But I’d advise you all to take a bath before you ruin the shoes as well.” He took their money, but said, “Come back in three days, and they’ll be ready.”

  Nathan certainly wasn’t used to having his shoes made for him, but he realised everything was different in the past, so he said nothing. He just wondered, if Brewster Hazlett came to collect him and take him home soon, how he would explain his very strange and old fashioned clothes to his grandmother and sister. Poppy would laugh at him, he knew, but he rather thought he would also be laughing at himself.

  Buying food was easier, and no one at the stalls questioned their pennies. They were able to buy leeks and pees, slices of raw lamb and kidneys, flour, honey, and even a tiny screw of paper with salt inside.

  In the meantime, with packages of food and their old clothes under their arms, and gravy from the pies on their chins, they hurried back to the warehouse.

  Now past midday, the city was at its busiest and not a street nor a lane was empty. People in large hats pushed in and out of the shops, and most of the houses had their doors open with the housewives sweeping out old rushes and dirt from their doorsteps. Some were cleaning their windows in the pale sunlight but many of the houses did not have glass in their windows at all, and the space was covered only in thin polished bone, or in translucent parchment. The chimneys puffed smoke for it was still chilly, and the smoke hung heavy over the rooftops, some tiled and some thatched. It was a bright day in mid-March, only partially clouded with little wind except for a slight breeze.

  The stall-holders were shouting their wares, calling, “Come buy,” “Best steel knives,” and “Cheapest cabbages in the country.” Stray dogs were wandering the lanes, their noses ferreting out scraps from the gutters, and two stood wagging their tails desperately beside the butchers’ shops, and Nathan felt very sorry for them. There were chickens too, pecking outside the houses, and a little scrawny pig running fast into the shadows. One house had three goats tethered outside, and another had a donkey, asleep on its feet. There were many birds, ravens, kestrels, seagulls and crows, with little flocks of sparrows sitting on rooftops.

  Alfie had been keeping up with the others, yet it was clear that he was experiencing some difficulty. He limped a little, and hunched over. His eyes were half shut in pain and his face was so badly bruised, it looked almost purple.

  “Thank goodness, we’re here,” he gasped as they arrived back at the warehouse.

  “For the last time,” sighed Alice.

  “So where will we go next?” No one liked the idea of losing the only home they had known for a long time, and Nathan was dubious too. Creeping into some new hole sounded both uncomfortable and dangerous. He said, “We ought to work out a proper plan for getting rid of the baron, and then we can all come to live in that grand house.”

  “Oh, I wish we could,” Alice said, promptly sitting down on the floorboards beside the slab where the few remaining ashes were a memory of last night’s warm fire. “By rights, I have two homes. The grand house in Bishopsgate, and an even bigger manor house in Devon. But the baron has taken them both.”

  “Haven’t you got any uncles or aunts or people who would back you up?” Nathan asked. “Isn’t there any important person who would help?”

  “I have an aunt,” she replied. “Aunt Margaret. But she’s frightened of the baron too, and her husband is crippled. He was wounded in battle and only has one leg. He can’t fight anyone anymore.”

  “The Constable?”

  “Gracious, no.” Alice smiled. “He wants to put me in gaol for being a wicked girl and not doing what the baron tells me.”

  “Humph,” John interrupted with a loud sniff. “That there Constable is a pig-man. Just wants to haul us off to the clink. ‘Siff we was thieves or something.”

  Nathan lay on one of the straw mattresses, hands behind his head. He felt very smart but rather crazy, dressed in tight black stockings tied up around his waist with two long ribbons, over a pair of loose linen pants. No shoes yet, but he had a warm although rather scratchy linen shirt which came down to his knees, and a dark blue tunic on top. He stuffed the package with his pyjamas in under the straw, and gazed up at the high beamed ceiling. He noticed that the little yellow spider had built itself an even bigger web.

  It was Alfie who interrupted. “Future plans is for the future. Right now we needs to find a new home.”

  “And I need a wash,” sighed Nathan. “Perhaps I can jump in the river.”

  John Ten-Toes chuckled. “You’d come out even grubbier than when ya went in,” he said. “Our river ain’t no bath.”

  “But there’s a bathhouse up near the Tower,” Alice said. “Folk go there to wash clothes and themselves too. Once we have a safe home again, th
en I’ll show you where it is. I’d love a hot bath.”

  “All that can wait,” Alfie said. “T’will be dark soon. That’s when we start looking. Collect all our stuff, blankets, pots and clothes. Then we get going.”

  They crept out as the sun sank in the west, disappearing down behind London’s tall chimneys and smoky roofs. The busy shoppers were already scurrying home and the markets were packing up. Even the river traffic was diminishing as the last few little rowing boats landed by their wooden piers, with people climbing out, women holding up their skirts and men with their hands flat on their heads to keep their hats from blowing off.

  For one moment as Alfie stood on the river bank, looking downstream, Nathan saw the great bridge which he had barely noticed before, since it had just seemed to be another road. This was certainly not the Tower Bridge he knew from his own home. Such a crowded and cluttered bridge certainly did not exist in his own time. It had houses and shops all along the sides, and stood tall on many stone pillars with the river water surging beneath. There seemed to be a church in the middle, and a huge gate at the southern end.

  “They’ll lock that gate soon,” Alfie nodded. “No one gets in or out o’ London once it’s dark.” Nathan could not imagine anything so strange but he said nothing and just stared at the busy bridge and the people rushing to cross before the gates were locked against them.

  With no street lights, the night fell quickly and even the little candlelight in the windows of the houses was soon blocked out as the people put up their wooden shutters. Alfie, Alice, John, Sam and Peter crept out into the narrow lanes, and Nathan walked beside Alfie and John.

  Alice had hidden the purse of money by tying it to the waistband of her shift, and she was careful not to clink as she walked. But they made little sound, since none of them yet had any shoes, and they padded softly in their woolly hose as the stars peered down at them from behind the soaring stone of the Tower. Church bells were ringing but there were few other sounds and gradually London sank into silence. Even the dogs wandered off, their tails between their legs, and the last birds flew away into the clouds. There was a hush which Nathan could not ever imagine happening in the modern city, but in the past, without cars or buses, sound was muffled or non-existent. They did pass a tavern with a flaring torch lighting the open doorway, but even here the men were leaving and staggering out into the cold darkness.

  Nathan noticed that Sam, although he was the smallest of them all, was carrying a large bulging parcel, wrapped in his old shirt. Then he heard the snuffles and purrs from inside, and knew it was Mouse, not forgotten and certainly not left behind.

  “I reckon I knows a good place,” John whispered, “up by the Tower wall.”

  “And I knows an attic, over the top of a storage shed,” Alfie said. “It ain’t far. Follow me.”

  Keeping to the shadows, the group crossed a small churchyard and crept through the cobbled lane between the long sheds of a communal stables. They could hear the horses kicking at their stalls, and neighing, but one by one even the horses were going to sleep. Alfie waited by the end of the lane where there was a shed for hay and storage of saddles, bridles and rakes.

  “There’s a place in there,” Alfie pointed. “Above where they keeps the hay and straw. ‘Tis real warm.”

  “But no place for cooking, I reckon, wiv all that straw,” guessed John. “T’would catch fire un burn us out.”

  “Let’s have a look,” suggested Alice, tiptoeing forwards. She pushed open the double doors and peeped in.

  A ladder was balanced against a high ledge above the stacks of hay. Up there,” whispered Alfie, sneaking towards the ladder. There were no windows and the space was cosy but dark. But Alice frowned, keeping her voice low. “So where do the stable boys sleep?”

  “Dunno,” said Alfie. “But I bin here five times, night and day, sleeping up there when I was worn out and hungry afore I ever met all of you. I never saw no one, and when folk came to rake up some of the hay, I just shut me mouth and hid far back.”

  “Oh dear,” murmured Alice, “it’s not the best place for so many of us. No way we’d be able to creep in here unseen during the daytime, what with the men coming to fetch their horses, and all the bustle and cleaning out. Besides, we couldn’t even light a fire or cook.”

  “Reckon my place would be better,” sniffed John.

  But Alfie was halfway up the ladder when another tousled head poked out for the straw on the top ledge. The boy yelled. Then two more boys scrambled from the straw and glared at Alfie and the others below.

  “Who are you?” demanded the first boy. “What you doing here?”

  “None o’your business,” Alfie yelled back angrily.

  “We’re cold,” Nathan said quickly, “and need a place to sleep. There must be plenty of space here.”

  “No there ain’t.” shouted another boy, swinging his legs over the side so he sat beside the top of the ladder, staring down. “We work here. We’re stable lads and we got every right to sleep here. You ain’t.”

  “You never used to,” glowered Alfie. “I’ve been here when it were all empty.”

  “That’s cos the owner changed hands,” explained an older boy. “But now tis our home. You better go quick afore the big man wakes.”

  Alfie was about to argue but Alice tugged at the bottom of his new tunic, and mumbled, “Quick, before they call for the Watch.”

  Yet as Alfie climbed down and the group turned to leave, three of the boys jumped down after them, two holding knives and the other brandishing a long-handled rake.

  Sam and Peter ran, but Alfie faced the angry boys and kicked out, swinging his fists. Alice quickly stuck out one foot and tripped the tallest boy as he ran past, and he fell in a heap with his knife lost in the hay. Nathan didn’t like fighting but there had once been a bully at his school, and he’d had to fight him several times, so he knew what to do. Grabbing the second boy around the neck, he swung him out, twisting him so he was dizzy and fell.

  As the boy scrambled up again, John ran to wrestle him back down and Nathan ran to help Alfie who was grappling with the boy brandishing the rake. It was sharp pronged but Nathan managed to grasp the handle and twist it free as Alfie kicked the boy and sent him running.

  “Quick,” yelled Alice. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They turned, racing out of the big shed into the cobbled lane outside where Peter and Sam were waiting. Once out of sight, they stopped, bending over to catch their breath and brush the spikey stalks of straw from their woolly hose.

  Alfie grinned. “I admit it,” he laughed. “Not such a good idea.”

  “So now I reckons tis time to look at my place,” said John with a smirk.

  Chapter Six

  John took them to a disused cellar down below a storeroom in a narrow cobbled alley which was almost closed at one end by the great moss-damp outer wall of the Tower. This kept out the light from the east, but there was a large ironmongers, closed now, on one corner, opposite a smithy, also tight shut for the night.

  When they all stopped, staring up and down the alley, Nathan tried to brush off the last of the straw sticking to his legs. “I must look like a haystack,” he muttered, but at that moment, Nathan realised this was exactly where he had first arrived, pitched from Brewster Hazlett’s balloon and sent tumbling to the ground of the same city where he lived, more than five hundred years into the past. He recognised the place in detail, as it had also been dark then. Just three nights ago, yet so much had happened since.

  Wondering whether there was some special meaning to coming back to precisely the same spot, Nathan started to tell Alfie. But John was pointing to some dirty broken bricked steps leading into black shadow, saying, “There.” It was next to the smithy, but underground in the cellars.

  John led, with Alfie hurrying after. Clearly he could no longer walk well after the long night, and needed to rest. Alice hurried behind him, then Sam and Mouse, Peter, and finally Nathan. Being exceptionally narrow a
nd steep, with several steps broken into rubble and others missing entirely, they had to be extremely careful and stare at their feet as they clambered into the deep darkness. They jumped the bottom step as it wasn’t there at all, and Sam grunted as he landed with a bump and a jolt. Nathan heard Mouse hiccup with a sort of frightened wheeze. Then they found themselves peering into a tiny empty space.

  “Squeeze in, fatties,” John told them, “and get around that corner.”

  They all did as they were told, turned the little corner, pushed open a door hanging half open on its hinges, and suddenly found themselves in a wide open space.

  Against the far wall, which was all bare brick, it was extremely hot. “Next to the Smithy furnace,” nodded Alice. “Now that’s just what we need. But we’ll have to find more straw for beds.”

  “Should’ve brought some from that rotten barn and those nasty stable boys.” Alfie was still annoyed with them.

  “Too far, sniffed John. “We’d ave lost the lot. Dropping stalks from there ta here, so’s any idiot could easy follow right where we come.”

  “Like breadcrumbs Hansel and Gretel,” muttered Nathan, but as usual no one knew what he was talking about.

  “Never mind,” Alice was delighted and smiling wide. “The wind will blow it all away by morning. We have our blankets and it’s so warm, we’ll sleep well anyway. Tomorrow we’ll try and find some better bedding.” But then her smile turned to a frown. “What will the ironmonger and the smith say if they see us creeping down here. Are they nice people? Do you know them?”

  “Not really,” admitted John, “but they seen me plenty in the past and they never cared. Busy, they are. Too busy ta poke their noses into the old cellars.”

  Now even Mouse was smiling and with a pull and a heave, they wrapped themselves in their blankets and curled up by the glorious heat of the wall next to the smithy’s furnace.

  “Reckon I’ll wake up already smelted,” grinned John.

  “Smelted and melted,” agreed Sam with a snigger. “But this floor’s mighty hard. We needs straw for pallets.”