Paul Lawrence - Hearts of Darkness

breeches and pulled it back over his head.

‘Since we are alone, gentlemen ,’ he spoke the last word as if to children. ‘I will concede that you did indeed save my life in St Albans.’ He adjusted the hairpiece carefully. ‘Which is of no value to you at all, since I cannot have it known that I allowed myself to be rescued by a butcher and a clerk. So forget it happened.’ He smacked his hands together to be rid of the dirt. ‘It’s just another reason to be rid of you.’

Which did not seem fair.

‘I sent you to Shyam to do a job and you failed.’ He waved a hand at the donkey. ‘Which is yet another reason to be rid of you. Withypoll would do me the honour without needing to be persuaded.’ He drew a short blade from his jacket. ‘Nonetheless I will give you one last opportunity.’ He sliced at the ropes binding my wrists. ‘Not because I am a generous man, nor a kind-hearted man, for we all know I am none of those things.’ He slipped the knife back into the folds of his coat and stood in front of us, hands on hips.

‘Josselin must be apprehended,’ he said, quietly. ‘He is a traitor, and is therefore dangerous. You know what he looks like and have been exposed to him already.’ He turned back to the dark corner, and returned with a twisted iron contraption. ‘I don’t want others talking to him, so I must trust in you.’

He held the tool up in the air. It was like a pair of tongs with the edges turned in and sharpened, thin metal hooks upon their extremities.

‘If he is in London then you must find him,’ he said, calm. ‘How were you to arrange this meeting?’

‘We were to leave message for him at the Mermaid,’ I lied.

‘Then leave your message, arrange the rendezvous, and tell me where to find him.’ He thrust the tongs into my face. ‘If you fail again then it is

not only you who will suffer.’ He looked at Dowling. ‘You have a wife.’ Then turned his attention to me. ‘You do not, but I hear you are fond of your housemaid. You took her away with you to escape the plague, did you not?’

I nodded, dumb, for I recognised the instrument he brandished. It was an ancient breast ripper, a tool used by the inquisitor in days gone by, to shred a woman’s breasts.

‘Do you understand now, gentlemen, how serious is your mission?’ he asked, lowering the device.

‘There is no need …’ Dowling said, weak.

I looked at the donkey and imagined Dowling and I placing Arlington upon its blade.

‘I see what you are thinking, Lytle,’ Arlington leered. ‘I would think the same if I were in your shoes. But if I am found dead, then you will be held culpable. You and your families will be punished.’

He tossed the cruel instrument into the corner. He would never use it himself. He would send apprentices to commit the deed with their own blunt devices. It was a common enough occurrence and would ensure the deed could never be traced to him.

‘Did Josselin tell you he worked with Clarendon?’ Arlington asked matter-of-factly.

We both nodded quickly.

Arlington rubbed his nose. ‘I cannot think why he would return were it not to seek help from the good Earl. I must know the moment he attempts to make contact, for it would be convenient to be able to arrest him in the presence of the Earl. In the Earl’s private closet if necessary.’ He clicked his fingers. ‘But the timing must be perfect. If I send men too early he will never arrive, and Clarendon will be most offended. If I send men too late, then Josselin will be gone.’ He

turned to point at both of us, one with each hand. ‘From tonight you will stand watch at Clarendon’s residence on Piccadilly. Watch where he goes and follow. Josselin may attempt to contact him. If you see Josselin, then one of you will inform me personally. Is that clear?’

‘Aye,’ we replied in unison.

My heart ached, and any suspicion I still harboured that this devil was a man, was assuaged. ‘What about the meeting?’

‘Tomorrow,’ Arlington spat. He blew out his cheeks and took a deep breath. ‘It has been an entertaining evening,’ he proclaimed, taking up a position next to one of the narrow windows, there to watch the red sun dying. ‘For which I doth sincerely thank you. Now be gone.’

I couldn’t believe we were free to go. Time to see Jane.

I knocked loudly before stepping back to the middle of the street. When she opened the door I spotted the flash of delight upon her face before she hid it behind a scowl.

‘I’m back,’ I said.

‘So you are.’ She looked up and down Bread Street. ‘Why are you standing over there?’

‘I’ve come from Colchester,’ I whispered hoarse, so none else might hear.

Her belly was definitely rounder than I remembered, but I had not the expertise to tell if it was sign of a child, else the consequence of eating too much pudding. She always ate more when I was away. She said my presence affected her appetite. The smell of incense drifted out from inside the house.

She scanned my filthy clothes from foot to head with sharp green eyes. ‘You’ve been to Essex and now you’re returned?’ she asked, eyes narrowed. ‘What be that black mark?’ she pointed at my forehead.

‘A bruise,’ I replied.

‘A big bruise,’ she said, suspicious. ‘And what is that in your pocket? A pipe?’

I dug out the leaves and held them up in the air. ‘To protect me from plague.’

She leant forward, squinting. ‘Where did you get them?’

‘Culpepper gave them to me. The apothecary.’

She peered. ‘You smoked that in your pipe?’

I nodded.

‘Looks like seer sage to me.’ She stood straight, arms folded. ‘Have you been seeing things?’

‘What sort of things?’

She watched me close. ‘You have, haven’t you? Bright lights? Shimmering shapes?’

‘Perhaps,’ I said, slowly. I looked down at the innocent looking pile of dry foliage in my palm.

She smiled, and I saw the end of her tongue. ‘You said you knew about plants.’

Enough. I tucked the leaves back into my pocket. ‘I came to see how you are.’ She opened her mouth to say something, but I dared to interrupt. ‘Are you with child?’

Her arms fell to her sides, all thought of plague forgot. ‘You noticed that yourself?’

‘Aye,’ I replied. ‘

Is it a child?’

‘Yes,’ she replied, eyes wet.

A tennis ball appeared from nowhere and stuck in my throat. I

wanted to take her in my arms, but dared not approach closer. ‘I am glad,’ I said, fighting back the tears.

‘ Glad? ’ she exclaimed, lines furrowing her brow. ‘What are you glad about? You have no job and spend every day in the Mermaid.’

‘I have decided to become an apothecary,’ I replied. ‘That’s why I’ve been seeing Culpepper. He’s going to sell me his shop. I will be a good father.’

She gaped in most sarcastic fashion, ducking her head and staring from beneath her brow. ‘You will share with him your worldly wisdom, no doubt,’ she blustered, trying to hide the wetness of her cheeks. ‘Teach him a trade and set a fine example of outstanding moral behaviour.’

‘It might be a girl,’ I muttered.

‘Boy or girl.’ She wiped her face and lifted her chin. ‘Do you plan to marry me?’

‘I …’ It seemed a silly question. I shrugged. ‘Would you want to marry me?’

‘How can you ask?’ she sobbed, wringing her apron between her hands, staring at me with a wistful expression I had never seen before.