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Snap

Page 7

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil


  Alice and John saw him coming, and ran towards him. “Were you worried?” said Alice. “I’m glad you came.”

  John pulled a face and sniffed. “Tis a day of accidents,” he said. “Nat got arrested first. Out with Alice, but she got away. He were bundled off ta the clink. Then seems them silly urchins, Sam and Peter went back to the warehouse and got arrested too. Lucky they got slammed into the same slammer. I bet they’re having quite a feast in there.”

  “I bet they’re feeling terrible,” sighed Alice. “Poor things.” She smiled at Alfie. “And there’s you, still in pain. I feel so guilty because most of all the trouble is everyone trying to help me. So it’s all my fault.”

  John grinned. “Reckon you’ll make it up ta us, when you’s rich again, and that pig-brain baron is the one in gaol. We can all live the high life for free in your big grand ‘ouse.”

  Alfie grinned too. “You’ll be Lady Alice.”

  Giggling, Alice said, “I am already because my father was a lord. But it sounds silly while I’m barefoot and live in an abandoned cellar.”

  “Ain’t abandoned no more,” John pointed out. “Tis a good home wiv better heating than I reckon they’ve got in the palace.”

  “And we can go get our knighthoods off the king, fer helping the lady in distress,” Alfie laughed. “Then we’ll feast on roast beef every day.”

  “Reckon we’ll need shoes first,” John said. “Just two more days and I won’t be John Ten-Toes no more.”

  “You’ll still have ten toes. They won’t fall off, they’ll just be hidden inside the leather,” laughed Alice.

  John stuck out his foot. “Gone already,” he pointed down, “wrapped all warm in them woolly hose.”

  And that was the exact moment that Peter, wriggling the point of his little knife inside the keyhole on their locked cell, said, “I got it. Listen,” and they heard the loud click as the lock sprung open. Then with a creak of huge hinges on old wood, the heavy door swung wide.

  First peeping nervously around the half open door, the three boys crept from the rank stone prison and into the narrow passageway beyond. They saw no one and tiptoed ever closer to the world outside. First there was the archway over the annexe, which was the guards’ chamber, with a table and stools standing in the gloom. They feared seeing their gaolers seated there, but the guards had gone to get ale and supper and the way out was unwatched. Still careful and peering into the growing darkness, Nathan led the way to the main entrance, and within moments they were outside staring around and blinking. After the lightless confinement of their cell, even the dusk outside seemed bright and they had to squint to see anything at all. The chill of the wind hit them full in their faces, making them shiver again, but brought a wonderful feeling of relief. They didn’t dare laugh yet, but they knew they had achieved the impossible.

  They were free.

  It was Alfie who saw them first, waved frantically, and rushed over. Alice was so excited, she hugged each of them, which Nathan and Peter found most embarrassing, but Sam rather enjoyed it and hugged her back.

  “Quick,” John said, “we gotta get outta here afore them guards come back. Run. Back home, fast as we can.”

  “Looks suspicious if we run,” Nathan objected. “We should walk. But walk fast.”

  So that is what they did, keeping to the smaller lanes and cutting across several churchyards. The faint echo of candlelight through windows and the muffled sounds of householders preparing supper was all they could see and hear of the folk living there. Nathan recognised many of the street names, but none of these places and roads looked remotely the way he remembered them from his own time. Through the back lanes cutting into Lombard Street, then down the winding alleys approaching the north side of the Tower, Down Nicholas Lane, into East Cheap, across to St. George’s, on over the Lower Lane and into Thames Street, up again and Tower Street before finally Harp Lane and Beer Lane. Then at last, their own small street. They made straight for the steps to the cellar. Bandy Alley, as it was called, was deserted with both the smithy and the ironmongers closed for the night, so everyone hurtled down into the dark cellar, flopping down by the heated wall, with tremendous relief. Alfie was out of breath, and lay down flat, easing his back against the rising heat, but the others were eager to exchange stories.

  Sam was comforted to discover Mouse curled in a cosy corner, purring gently to herself, well fed and content. He sat close, head back against the wall, and yawned. “Never been in gaol afore,” he said sleepily. “Don’t like it. Won’t go again.”

  “Nasty and chilly and damp and dark,” agreed Peter. “The ceiling was only just over our heads.”

  “Well, I hope we’re safe now,” nodded Nathan. “It’s all thanks to you, Peter, and those clever fingers of yours. Those guards are going to be mighty shocked when they come back and find the cell door wide open.”

  “They had no right to arrest any of you,” said Alfie. “None of us did anything wrong. You didn’t hit anyone. You didn’t steal anything.”

  “Well, I stole the baron’s purse,” Nathan pointed out.

  “I don’t reckon ‘e even knows about that,” said John. “Reckon he’s got so many purses, ‘e ain’t even realised ‘e dropped one. Asides, that weren’t what they nabbed Nat for.”

  Alice said at last. “You’re right, and it’s time to do something serious, or we shall all end up in gaol some time over the next days. Nat and I have a plan.”

  It took a long time to explain.

  “Not a very good plan,” murmured Nathan after Alice had described their idea, “but we have to try and do something.”

  “Because,” added Alice, “every time we go out, we’ll be trying to hide – frightened that someone will recognise us – that we’ll be arrested. That will drive us crazy. So I’m going to try.”

  They prepared. It began with Alice describing the baron’s younger brother, who she was supposed to marry. “He’s short and fat and ugly,” she sighed. “He has a stomach that pokes out and doesn’t fit properly under his doublet. His hair is bright red and he uses a hot iron to try and make it curly. But that usually singes so he has funny burnt curls. I hate him.”

  “Not the sort a’ person anyone would want’ ta marry,” said John, pulling a face.”

  “You can’t cuddle a pig man,” observed Sam from his corner, where he was happily cuddling Mouse.

  “His name is Edmund Darling,” sniffed Alice, looking down again, as if she couldn’t bear to talk about him. “And there’s no one I’ve ever met who’s less of a darling. Except maybe the baron himself.”

  “You don’t want him, but what if he don’t want you?” asked John doubtfully.

  “New clothes,” decided Alfie. “Look pretty.”

  “He doesn’t care about that,” Alice shook her head. “I could be a dragon. He’d still want to marry me just because he wants my money and property.”

  “He sounds like a dragon himself,” muttered John, “You didn’t ortta go anywhere near him.”

  “I have to.” Alice stared down into her lap, where she was clasping and unclasping her fingers. “I know I’ll be frightened and I know it’s a risk, but I have to stop us getting arrested for no good reason. And I don’t want new clothes. I’ve got plenty at my house. But I suppose the one thing I ought to do first, is have a bath.”

  Nathan looked down at the dirt on his hands, and he could feel the sweat under his arms from all the running. “That’s what I want too,” he said at once.

  “Not me,” John turned away. “All that nasty hot water, and then being horrid and damp and cold.”

  “Cold toes?” Nathan laughed. “Why are you called Ten-Toes, anyway? Don’t we all have ten toes?”

  John sighed, leaning back against the heat of the wall. “I never had no parents,” he said. “I were just a tiny baby when they found me on a rubbish dump.” He grinned to hide the sadness in his eyes. “Proper place for me, I reckon. Anyways, I were given ta the monks at Blackfriars and they br
ung me up more or less, just like they does with all abandoned children. I reckon I was pretty stupid and them monks didn’t teach me too well neither and learning to count took me ages. But I never had no shoes so when I couldn’t count on me fingers, I used me toes. Seemed easier cos I had to use one finger to do the counting and it seemed like I only had nine left. So them monks called me John Ten-Toes, laughing at me. I were a cheeky little brat and I don’t reckon they liked me much. I ran away when I were about eight, though I ain’t sure exactly how old I is.”

  “You’ll be a lord soon,” Alfie smiled, and Sam, almost asleep in the corner, looked up.

  “Sir John Ten-Toes. You’ll fight in tournaments and go to battle with the king and hold his banner.”

  “More likely end me life on the scaffold,” muttered John, half to himself as he lay down to sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Baron Cambridge surveyed his brother. Edmund was stretched out in a comfortable chair, his feet reaching towards the blazing fire on the wide marble hearth before him, his hands loosely clasped over the swell of his large stomach. The stomach rose and fell gently as he breathed as if it had a life of its own. His three chins wobbled as he licked his lips, relishing the taste of the last meal he had eaten. As guest of his elder brother, he ate a good deal better than he did alone in his own small home.

  Hugh, the baron, was a stout man but being a little taller, did not seem quite so wide. He managed to keep his stomach under control with a big leather belt, and his doublet had padded shoulders to try and seem more muscular instead of just fat. He also spent a considerable sum of money on special clothes tailored to make him look slimmer, grander, and even a little bit handsome.

  The Baron said, “Get on with it, Ned. I’m not going to wait forever.”

  Edmund snorted. “I’ll do it in my own time. And don’t you go thinking you’ll get all the property rights afterwards either. Share and share alike. Three quarters for me and a quarter for you.”

  The baron went pink. “Half and half, Ned. May I remind you of our original agreement.”

  But Edmund sneered, curling up one corner of his thin mouth. “I’ve got to put up with the stupid girl as my wife, not you. So, l deserve the largest share. Otherwise, I’ll not do it.”

  “And may I also remind you,” said the baron loudly, “that if you don’t do it, you’ll get nothing at all. I have control of the girl’s wealth until she turns sixteen, and that’s still three years away. As long as no interfering judge comes along to poke his nose into my business, I can continue to eat my way through that money. And you’ll not get a penny, brother dear.”

  Edmund sat bolt upright and glared back at the baron. “You be careful, Hugh,” he shouted back, going even pinker than his brother. “You try stealing the lot and I’ll be the first to go running to the king.” He calmed a little, sinking back in his chair again, and his chins settled. “Besides, you know you can’t take the lot without me marrying the wench. If you did, as soon as she turned sixteen and found out what you’d done, you’d be thrown straight into Newgate Gaol.”

  Both men glared at each other.

  They were interrupted by the baron’s steward, who sidled in, obviously having heard what the conversation had been about after eavesdropping outside the door. “My lord,” he said softly, “forgive me for interrupting, but I wish to make a suggestion.”

  The brothers turned their stares onto the steward, waiting for the next words. “None of your business, Lacey,” huffed the baron crossly. “But tell me anyway.”

  The steward bowed. “If your lordship were to invite the young lady to a little chat, over dinner perhaps to put her at her ease, and then discuss the difficulty of her inheritance. Tell her that she is not as wealthy as she might have thought, that most of the money was entailed. Tell her that the only way she can live comfortably in the future is to marry Mister Edmund Darling.” He smiled. “Naturally, the young lady cannot possibly understand all the complications of her inheritance. She is only a female, after all.”

  “Very good idea,” said Edmund at once. “Well done, Lacey. I shall not forget your help once I get my hands on all the property.”

  Once again the steward bowed, and quietly left the room.

  It was a large, grand room with painted scenes on the walls, a huge fireplace, and comfortable cushioned chairs. The window was not shuttered but it was bleary with the pouring rain outside. It stayed warm, however, as the high flames across the hearth crackled scarlet and golden.

  “Well, that’s a good idea,” said Edmund, looking cheerful again. “You do that, Hugh, and once the wedding is done, then I’ll share halves with you like we originally agreed. Otherwise the blasted female may never agree to marry me. You could try forcing her, but you can’t even catch her.”

  “Have to find out where she is first,” grumbled the baron, flicking the satin ribbons at his cuffs. “It’s more than two years she’s been hiding. But I’ll find her sooner or later.”

  “Better be before she turns sixteen,” Edmund pointed out.

  The baron turned pink again. “I’ll get Lacey to send out most of the servants tomorrow morning, to start searching the city. And I’ll alert the Constable too. I already told the silly old fool she’s been abducted, so it’s about time he started searching for her himself.”

  Meanwhile back in the cellar at Bandy Alley, Alice yawned, stretched, and stood up, ready to face the new morning. “Blast,” she said, pointing towards the opening in the brick wall, where the little broken door hung ajar, leading to the steps. Rain was slopping down and had trickled from the passage to the middle of the cellar floor. “There must be a real storm outside. If we go out now, we’ll be drenched.”

  “Don’t matter if we’re just going to the washhouse,” said Peter, staggering to his feet and tripping over Mouse. “Wet inside. Wet outside.”

  “I ain’t coming to the baths,” Alfie said. “Me back is too bad and I don’t want ta wash off all that special cream. Reckon I’ll go to the apothecary instead and buy some more.”

  “Nor me,” Sam said in a small voice. “I don’t want to get cold.”

  “Baby,” sniffed Peter. “There’s nice hot water, you know, and real nice smelly soap.” But Sam shook his head.

  John grinned, “That bathhouse soap don’t smell nice. Tis made for scrubbing dirty linen and it stinks. I’m off ta the cobbler’s to see if he’s got our shoes ready.”

  “No.” Alfie frowned. “None of us should be alone. There’s too much risk now and if you got arrested we might not find you so easy. What if you got slung into Newgate? Nobody ever escapes from there.”

  “So just me, Nat and Peter will go to the baths, as soon as the rain stops a bit,” Alice said, collecting up her shopping basket, “and the rest of you stay safe here. I’ll bring back something nice for dinner.”

  Because the cellar was so well heated both day and night, Nathan slept only in his shirt and braes, as did all the other boys. They used their tunics and soft woolly hose as pillows. Now Nathan sat up, feeling very stiff and aching from sleeping all night on the bare cement floor. He tied up the neck of his shirt, which was now all creased, but he didn’t care about that. Then, shrugging into his dark blue tunic, he looked down and wriggled his toes, laughing. His feet were absolutely black, and looked as though they had been painted with tar. He certainly wanted that bath. Back in his own home he hadn’t been that keen to shower every day as his grandmother told him, but now he thought he’d do anything for his own bathroom and a lovely steaming hot shower.

  He pulled on the hose and stood up. There was a growing puddle of water in the middle of the floor. “I don’t mind getting a bit wet,” he said, pushing his fingers through his bright brown and yellow streaked hair. “Peter’s right. Wet inside and wet outside. So it doesn’t matter.”

  “Well, I haven’t got a cloak,” Alice said, “and none of us have shoes yet so we’ll be soaked. But I’ve been soaked before and I don’t really mind. Alright. Let�
�s go.”

  “We could put the blankets over our heads.”

  “Oh yes, and then have dripping wet blankets to sleep with tonight.”

  “Just go stand in the rain,” John grinned. “Best bath you’ll get, and free too.”

  “And get splashed with mud from every passing horse and cart.”

  “Oh, stop complaining,” said Alice. “You cowards stay here, and I’ll be back soon.”

  Nathan laughed. “I’m coming.”

  And Peter ran after them as Alfie waved goodbye calling to them not to get drowned.

  Out in the street it was pelting with rain. Nathan decided it felt as though someone had emptied a bucket full of water over his head, but he liked the sudden fresh chill after the clammy heat of the cellar. And quite suddenly, after all the horrid chill of the gaol, and the fear of being locked up, and the worry about peering through the shadows for guards and enemies, and wondering what the baron would do with him, Nathan felt completely happy. After all, this was the greatest adventure anyone could have, and he realised that he was exceedingly lucky. He shouldn’t be frightened. He should be laughing.

  Alice was bossy but he liked her very much and felt sorry for her too. Alfie was brave and smart and terribly kind, while John was really funny and kept everyone cheerful. As for Peter, he was a genius with locks, and Sam was sweet and loving. Nathan looked around, opened his mouth and swallowed a great gulp of cold rain. It tasted like magic. He smelled the heavy spice that had hovered around Brewster Hazlett’s balloon, and with a hop and a skip, Nathan ran ahead.

  Alice and Peter looked at him in amazement. “You gone daft?” inquired Peter solemnly.

  But Alice laughed too. “Yes, we ought to be happy,” she agreed. “We’re off to have a lovely hot bath, we can afford it and some good food afterwards, and we have a great plan, thanks to you. Just wait and see! By next week everything will be solved and I’ll be back at home. You’ll all come with me and have your own comfy bedchambers with feather mattresses and candles by the bedside.”

 

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