Kate Sedley: The Lammas Feast

‘So you see,’ he continued, ‘I hadn’t planned to take on any extra work, but for such good friends and customers. . well, I’ll make an exception. Just as long as your order isn’t a big one.’

‘The present state of our purse won’t allow us to make the order a big one,’ Adela responded drily, knowing nothing about the two gold pieces I had hidden under the cottage floor. ‘Just a couple of loaves for Lammastide, Master Overbecks, if you could manage them.’

If that were all, the baker was happy to oblige.

‘So what will it be?’ he asked. ‘Rose-petal bread? Saffron bread? Parsley, thistle, violet, plum? Lemon bread? I can do you all the colours of the rainbow. The plums are very ripe this year, and will tint your dough a really deep shade of purple. And the saffron will give a lovely rich golden-orange brown.’

Adela knew better than to take such an important decision on her own. Elizabeth and Nicholas were consulted, with the result that a loaf of rose-petal bread and one of plum were eventually decided upon.

‘A wise choice,’ Master Overbecks told them, though I suspected he would have said that whatever they had chosen. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. ‘I love this time of year; the blessing of the grain and the harvest. Loaf-Mass-tide, to give it its proper, old-fashioned name. The procession around the town, the open-air games. .’

‘The rain,’ I cut in gloomily, and was scolded by my wife for putting what she called a damper on things.

‘An apt phrase! A very apt phrase,’ chuckled Master Overbecks approvingly. ‘Now, is there anything else I can do for you good people while you’re here?’

We could see he was anxious to get back to his baking, so we dragged Nicholas and Elizabeth away from the trestle table, where they were eyeing up some buns, sticky with raisins and honey. We were about to take our leave when the bakery door burst open, and we were confronted by Jane Overbecks, holding the little black and white dog in her arms. There was a wild look about her. Her almost jet-black hair was unconfined by any cap, and lay loose across her shoulders. One of the sleeves of her blue linen gown had come unstitched from the bodice, and I noticed that she was barefoot. She wore a golden hoop in one ear, but seemed to have lost its fellow.

She stopped abruptly as soon as she saw us, and was poised for immediate flight when her eyes lighted on Adam. She at once released the struggling dog — the poor animal was then seized and smothered by an ecstatic Nicholas and Elizabeth — and fell to her knees beside the little pull-along cart. She put out a finger and began stroking the baby’s downy cheek, an even stranger, wilder look on her face than before. I saw Adela take a hasty step forward, before making a great effort to check herself. But the lioness was ready to spring to the defence of her cub, and who could blame her?

‘Jane won’t harm him, Mistress Chapman,’ John Overbecks said quietly. ‘She’s very fond of children.’ He went across to his wife and touched her gently on the shoulder. ‘Let the little one be, my love. He’s sleeping sound. You don’t want to wake him.’

But at that moment, with his usual bad timing, Adam opened his eyes, squinted up into Jane Overbecks’s face and started to scream; the special ear-splitting scream that he normally reserved for nights, just as I managed to nod off after a hard day’s peddling. (He had the most powerful set of lungs I’ve ever heard in a baby, and still has today.) Adela was beside him in an instant, snatching him up and cradling him in her arms.

Jane Overbecks sprang to her feet with a wail like a lost soul and fled from the bakery in tears.

‘I’m sorry,’ Adela apologized ruefully. ‘That was foolish of me.’

John Overbecks was understanding.

‘Natural enough, Mistress Chapman, that you should wish to protect your child. But, like I said, Jane wouldn’t have hurt him. It’s men she fears. I fancy she may have been. .’ He glanced sideways at the children, but they were still busy playing with the dog. All the same, he lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘I fancy she may have been raped when she was a girl, but I’ve never managed to get the whole story out of Marion. Sister Jerome, as I suppose I should call her now. I know there was some unpleasantness. They were orphans and came from a very isolated community on the edge of Exmoor, where the law of the land was very little regarded. I think that’s why, in the end, Marion decided they must run away. At first, she was afraid that they might be pursued, but no one ever came after them. At least, not to my knowledge. In any case, I promised her my protection. You learn to fend for yourself when you’re soldiering abroad.’ He had grown sombre and quite unlike his usual, cheerful self, but suddenly his spirits revived. He gave a broad grin and rescued the little mongrel — no more than a puppy, I could see that now — from the children’s clutches and added, ‘Two Lammas loaves it is then, Mistress Chapman. One rose-petal red and the other plum purple.’

Adela returned Adam to his cart and goose-feather pillow. He had stopped screaming and was seductively blowing bubbles instead. (There has always been a strong, histrionic streak in that lad, and I think that day was the first time I really noticed it.)

To show there was no ill feeling, the baker accompanied us as far as the street, leading the way through the shop, which he opened by letting down the front shutter. This also served as the counter, and he shouted to his apprentice to start bringing out the cakes and buns ready for sale. Then he unlocked a small door alongside and we stepped out into High Street.

Quite by chance, I glanced across at the rival bakery on the opposite side of this busy thoroughfare. Walter Godsmark had disappeared and was no longer propping up his master’s wall, but the shop had not yet begun trading. Just at that moment, however, the front door was opened from within and two men emerged. I immediately recognized Jasper Fairbrother’s burly form. (He was a handsome man and knew it, as was evidenced by his arrogant stance and the disdainful curl of his lips.) But to my surprise, I also recognized his companion. It was the man who had disembarked earlier from the Breton ship moored in Saint Nicholas Backs, and who had passed us as we crossed over from the bridge. He and the baker seemed to be having some sort of argument, with a certain amount of gesticulation on the stranger’s part, and the clenched-fist, I’m-bigger-than-you threats from Jasper. Which is precisely the attitude I should have expected from that bully.

‘There’s the young Breton we saw getting off the ship,’ I said to Adela. ‘Over there, talking to Master Fairbrother.’

Both she and John Overbecks followed the direction of my gaze.

‘Why do you think he’s a Breton?’ the baker asked curiously.

I explained briefly about the Breton sailors and how I came to have a rudimentary knowledge of the language.

He slapped me on the back. ‘Your husband’s a man of many parts, Mistress Chapman,’ he grinned, but there was an ironic inflection to his tone that made me uncomfortable.

I didn’t much care, either, for Adela’s answering smile.

‘Oh, he’s a clever fellow all right, Master Overbecks,’ she said. ‘I have it on the very best authority. He told me so himself.’

John Overbecks chuckled deep in his throat. I decided it was high time to go home before my good opinion of myself was entirely undermined.

I glanced across the street again, to find that this time the tables had been turned, and that the stranger and Jasper Fairbrother were staring at me. They had stopped arguing and, with a jerk of his head, the younger man was plainly asking the older a question. It was impossible to hear what he said because of the noise of the traffic, the ringing of bells from neighbouring churches, and the cries of the street-sellers, all advertising their wares at the tops of their voices. But it was obvious to me that he was asking who I was.