P. Chisholm - A Plague of Angels

Dodd shook his head at such amazing longterm planning.

Edmund Carey’s house was a tall narrow building looking out over the old monastery courtyard, a wilderness of pigpens, chicken coops, overgrown herb beds, a jakes, a choked pond and a dead walnut tree, with a long wall of rubble along one side, out of which poked occasional pillars still decorated with fragments of tracery, like stone trees. Carey gestured at it while they waited for someone to answer the door.

‘You see that? Used to be full of beggars living in the cloister carrells before the roof collapsed a couple of years ago. Now it would take about a month to fill the pond, cut down the walnut tree, tidy up the courtyard and repave it, after which the houses round about would be worth twice what they are now. If you cleared the rubble from the cloisters and built some houses on the site, you’d make even more.’

Dodd nodded, not all that interested. The door was opened by a pretty blonde woman with a velvet cap and little frown lines marking the smooth brow between her eyes. Her face lit up when she saw Carey.

‘Robin!’ she shouted and flung her arms around her brother-in-law. ‘Oh Robin, you’re back. Kate, Eddie, come out and see your uncle back from the wild north. Oh Robin, Robin. I don’t know where he is. I haven’t heard from him for weeks. Have you seen him? He didn’t follow you to Berwick, did he?’

Carey shook his head and disentangled her arms. ‘Susannah, my dear, that’s why I’m back in London. Father wants me to find the silly bastard.’

‘Don’t swear.’

‘Sorry. Hello, Kate, hello, Eddie.’

Two children threw themselves into Carey’s arms squealing, demanding presents and asking was it true that Scotsmen had tails. He told them gravely that he rather thought it was, seeing how big their padded breeches were, and introduced Dodd.

The house had two rooms on the ground floor, one a parlour and the other a kitchen where a grim looking woman was trying to relight the fire. Kate was sent out to get some proper beer, since Susannah was quite sure their Uncle Robin didn’t like mild ale, bread and meat from the cookshop on the corner if it was open yet and if not come straight back, don’t talk to any naughty street children, and when would Kate learn to comb her hair before she put her cap on, for goodness’ sake, and why wasn’t Eddie properly dressed and ready for school, did he think his clothes would magically climb on his back by themselves? No, and where was his hornbook, this was the third he’d lost in two weeks and she could not afford to keep buying them, he’d just have to share someone else’s and if the schoolmaster beat him, then perhaps he’d take better care of his belongings in future…?

Carey and Dodd retired from the shouting to sit in the parlour where the benches were carved but padded with old cushions and the hangings clearly came from Lord Hunsdon’s house because they were too big for the walls. Eventually Kate came trotting in, red-faced, carrying a jug of beer and two pewter mugs, while Eddie sprinted out of the door with his mother yelling at him that if he lost another cap, he could go bareheaded and catch lungfever and serve him right.

Finally she came into the parlour carrying her own mug, sat down and smiled wanly at them while Carey poured her some beer.

‘The children think their father’s in the Netherlands again,’ she said. ‘I know he’s silly, but I wish he’d come back. I do worry so much…’

Carey fished in the pocket of one of his padded sleeves and produced a purse full of money which he handed to her.

‘From Father.’

The frownlines, that had no business on such a pretty face, tightened further. ‘Oh no, I shouldn’t, really; Edmund gets so cross when I take more money from my lord Hunsdon. He’s really too generous.’

‘Rubbish,’ said Carey easily. ‘Doesn’t want his grandchildren to lack for anything, no matter how cretinous their father. What was he up to the last time you saw him?’

Susannah Carey leaned forward, put her elbows on the worn velvet of her kirtle and caged her fingers round her nose and mouth.

‘He was…He was full of plans, full of optimism, quite sure he would sort out our finances once and for all.’

‘Oh, God.’

‘Yes. I know. He wouldn’t tell me what the secret was.’

‘Reselling brocades?’

‘No, he’s learnt his lesson on that one, though he still notionally owes Ingram Frizer a lot of money.’

‘Let the little turd sue.’

Susannah shook her head, clearly fighting tears. ‘Obviously, I was worried when he was so pleased with himself. But he wouldn’t tell me and…and…I lost my temper. We had a big fight and he stormed out saying he’d be back when he had hundreds of pounds and then he’d…he’d take the children away and…and…’

Silently Carey handed over his handkerchief, and stared at the ceiling for a bit. After a while he patted his sister-in-law’s shoulder and said, ‘There, there.’

Eventually the sniffling stopped and Susannah blew her nose.

‘What was the secret, Susannah?’

She rolled her eyes and sighed. ‘I think it might have been alchemy,’ she said tragically.

Carey barked with laughter. ‘Oh, bloody hell. I suppose it’s one thing he hasn’t tried.’

‘You see he was talking about how he needed seed-gold.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘He sold the last of his rings and my pearls that I had from the Queen when we married, and off he went. He was buying a gold plate off a sailor, he said, before we started fighting, then that gold would be the seed and he’d harvest ten times as much gold from it.’

‘Let me guess. The alchemist took the seed-gold, started the reaction, some disaster happened and it didn’t work and Edmund needed more money to pay for more seed-gold. Yes?’

Susannah shook her head. ‘Well, no. He did come back, drunk, one night in early August and he showed me a big purse full of gold angels. He said he’d bred ten gold angels for each angel of gold he started with. He was very happy, said we’d soon be out of hock, we made up our quarrel and off he went again. That was the last time I saw him.’

Carey rubbed his chin slowly. ‘It worked ?’

‘I was surprised myself. I never heard of alchemy working before.’

‘Nor me. Did he let slip any names?’ Susannah shook her head. ‘Well, can I go upstairs and have a look round, see if he left any bits of paper or anything else?’

Susannah gestured at the stairs and finished her beer. Carey went up the stairs and jerked his head for Dodd to follow him.

The main bedchamber was on the next floor, overlooking the courtyard, smelling musty and much used. The enormous fourposter bed hadn’t been made yet and the two clothes chests were open and higgledy piggledy. Carey looked around.

‘Poor Susannah. She never was any good as a housekeeper, any more than Edmund has ever been worth a farthing as a provider.’

‘Why do they not live wi’ yer father?’

Carey shrugged. ‘Edmund doesn’t get on with Father at all, mainly because Father keeps trying to stop him drinking and gambling and Edmund resents it. They had a really bad fight in May after the Frizer business when Father had to pay the man off, and after the surgeon had reset Edmund’s nose, he said he’d rather die in gaol than speak to Father again. All very stupid. Now then, let’s have a look here.’

Carey pawed through Susannah’s clothes and then did the same with the other chest which was rather more full of fashionable men’s clothes, rich black velvet sprinkled with pearls, pale creamy satin. When the chest was empty he thumped the bottom of it in case there were any secret compartments. Dodd narrowed his eyes.