К Сэнсом - Heartstone

‘In her room. Look, I don’t want you upsetting her again. That doesn’t do anyone any good.’

‘She needs to know where she stands. Goodbye, Master Shawms.’

I LOOKED THROUGH the bars of Ellen’s door. She was sitting on her bed, quietly sewing. Her expression was sad, but composed. I remembered the terror in her face the last time I had seen her. I would not bring her to that again, I swore.

I knocked and went in. She looked up. Her face went hard and cold.

‘Good day, Ellen,’ I said.

‘You have returned,’ she answered evenly.

‘Yes. This morning. Have you been well treated while I was away?’

‘Yes. Gebons has been unusually friendly. I wondered if you had paid him to be.’

‘I wanted to see you were not mistreated while I was away.’ She did not reply. I asked, ‘Has Master Shawms said anything to you?’

‘No.’ She looked apprehensive. ‘About what?’

I drew a deep breath. ‘Ellen,’ I said gently, ‘I do not want to rake over the past again.’ A tense watchfulness came into her face. I continued, ‘But I have been to Sussex. You are safe now from those men.’ I had decided to say nothing of the discovery of her father’s body. ‘The Queen herself has taken responsibility for your fees. And if you ever want to leave here, you can. You are free, Ellen.’

She looked at me, intently, fearfully. ‘What has happened to him? To – Philip?’

I hesitated again. She said, ‘Tell me!’

‘He is dead, Ellen. He went down on the Mary Rose .’

She sat very still, staring into space. Then she said, quietly, with cold, whispered anger, ‘He deserved it.’ It was the same phrase Emma had used standing over Abigail’s body, and David about what had happened to him.

‘He did a terrible thing to you.’

She looked at me, her expression utterly weary. ‘And the man who was with him that day? What of him?’

I hesitated. ‘Do you know who he was?’

‘I only remember a skinny little fellow.’ She shuddered, her whole body trembling. I realized the depth of emotion she had been holding in, all these wasted years.

‘He is now a high official of state. It is better you do not know his name. But he can do you no harm now.’

‘Because you told the Queen what was done to me?’ I heard anger in her voice now.

‘It was the only way to protect you.’

She stared into space, hands trembling above her sewing. Then she put her work down, turned and looked me full in the face. ‘I was content here,’ she said, ‘content as ever I could be. You should not have interfered.’

‘I have freed you from a great threat.’

She laughed bitterly. ‘To do that you should have been at Rolfswood nineteen years ago. You talk as though I cared one whit what happens to me now. I am past that. I did care for a while, when I thought you loved me. I see now that is impossible. Do you know who made me understand that?’

‘No.’

‘Your friend Guy. Oh, he said nothing directly, but somehow he made me realize. He is clever,’ she said bitterly. ‘But you let me go on believing there might be hope for two years. You did not have the courage to tell me the truth. You are a coward, Matthew.’

‘I could have been killed trying to find out the truth about you!’ I burst out.

‘I never asked you to!’ She took a couple of long, deep breaths, then said in tones of bitter contempt, ‘Have you ever loved anyone, I wonder? Can you?’

‘We do not choose who we love. I love –’ I checked myself.

‘I do not care now,’ she answered. She looked away. ‘Leave me. I do not want to see you again. I hate you now.’ The anger had gone from her voice, only the weariness was left.

‘Is that what you really want?’ I asked. ‘For me never to come back?’

‘Yes.’ Still she looked away. ‘And that is what you want too, in your heart. I see that now. When mad folks are brought to see things they see them very clearly.’

‘You are not mad.’

‘I said, go.’

She did not meet my gaze as I walked through the door, closed it behind me, and looked at her for the last time through the bars before turning away.

I RODE HOME. My mind was a blank, I could not think, even the sight of a foreign-looking man being chased down Cheapside by a group of whooping corner boys barely registered. I stabled Genesis and walked round to the front of the house. Simon was looking out from an upstairs window. When I opened the door he was running down the stairs towards me.

‘Master Shardlake –’

‘What has happened? Is Josephine –’

‘She is all right, sir. But Mistress Tamasin – her woman came round to fetch Master Guy. Her baby’s coming early, she thinks something’s wrong –’

I turned away and started running down Chancery Lane, past lawyers who stopped and stared, to Barak’s house.

HE OPENED the door. He was dishevelled, wild-eyed, a mug of beer in his hand. From the closed door of the bedroom across the hall I heard screams of pain.

Barak pulled me in. He sank down on the little wooden settle in the hall. I said, ‘Is Guy –’

‘In there with her. I’d not been back half an hour when her waters broke. It shouldn’t have come for near two weeks. The last time the baby came when it was due.’

‘Where is Goodwife Marris?’

‘In with Guy. They shut the door on me.’

‘Here –’ I took the cup of beer from his hand, he was gesticulating so wildly I feared he might spill it. ‘What did Guy say?’

‘He says it’s just early. Goodwife Marris was frightened, she ran for him –’

‘Well, second babies can come early, you know that.’

He gave an anguished look at the closed door, from behind which screams still came.

‘It only means the baby’s coming –’

He said wildly, ‘If anything happens to her, I couldn’t bear it, I’d take to drink again – she’s everything –’

‘I know. I know.’

‘I don’t care if it’s a girl –’ He broke off. The screaming had stopped. There was a long, terrifying moment of silence. Then, faintly, we heard another sound, the grizzling cry of a baby. Barak’s mouth fell open. The door opened and Guy came out, wiping his hands on a towel. He smiled.

‘Jack, you have a fine, healthy son.’

He jumped up, ran over and pumped Guy’s hand. ‘Thank you! Thank you!’ He was panting with relief.

‘Thank Tamasin. She did the work. It was easy enough in the end –’ But Barak had rushed past him into the room. I followed more slowly.

Goodwife Marris stood by the bed, holding a tiny form wrapped in swaddling clothes. Barak threw himself on Tamasin.

‘Take care, fool,’ she said softly. She smiled, stroked his head. ‘Go and see your son.’

He went over to the child. Guy and I looked over Goodwife Marris’s shoulder. ‘He’s – he’s wonderful,’ Barak said. Gently he took one of the baby’s tiny hands in his own.

‘He is,’ I said, though in truth all babies look the same to me, like little old men. But he seemed healthy, screaming at the top of his lungs. I saw he had a fuzz of blond hair like Tamasin’s.

Barak turned to Guy, his face momentarily anxious. ‘He is healthy?’

‘As healthy a child as I ever saw.’

Barak looked again at his son. ‘Just think,’ he said quietly. ‘He could live to see a new century. Think of that, think of that.’

‘Your John,’ Tamasin said quietly from the bed.

Barak thought a moment, looked at me, then said, ‘Tammy, do you mind if we give him another name?’

‘What?’ she asked, surprised.

‘Let us call him George,’ he answered softly. ‘Like our first baby. I’d like to name him George Llewellyn Carswell.’ He looked at me. ‘To remember them.’