“If you ask me,” John called after her, “you’re wasting good money. That family never learns. The brat’ll be back in the stocks before the month is out.”

But I don’t think the grey lady heard him.

John grabbed the back of William’s shirt and gave him a good shake. “Now you listen to me, my lad, your father would flay the hide off you if he knew you were messing with those hags. You don’t know what goes on behind those walls of theirs. If those women got hold of a lad like you, like as not you’d never be seen again.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” William said, but I knew he was, because his face had gone all red and blotchy.

“Well, you should be. All of those women together like that can do things you wouldn’t dream of, lad. They can make your nose rot off your face and your cock shrivel up like a worm. So mind you stay well out of their way.”

He gave William another shake and strode off, kicking the stocks as he passed. “And you can stop your bawling, Marion. You’ll not cod Phillip D’Acaster as easily as that daft gammer.”

William stomped furiously towards me.

“What are you laughing at, Pisspuddle?” He tried to clout me one, but I dodged out of his way and that made him madder than ever.

“Nothing,” I said quickly and started to walk home.

William followed me. “I’ll get the old besom back, see if I don’t. I’m not afraid of those gammers. What can they do?”

“Cured cousin Stephen’s arm, didn’t they?” I reminded him. “Mam said he’d lose it for sure. Bone came right through the skin, but it healed right up. He was screaming like a scalded pig when he fell off the roof, but they stopped it hurting too. Even the cunning woman, old Gwenith, can’t do that.”

William snorted and chucked a stone at a fluster of hens, which scattered, squawking.

I walked very carefully along the top of a fallen branch lying in the track, putting my hands out to balance myself, but it rolled and I slipped off.

“What are you doing that for?” William eyed me suspiciously.

“No reason.” I stopped at once and started walking fast along the path.

“Yes, you are. You did it on the way here too, and yesterday.”

“No, I didn’t.”

A nasty grin spread across his face. “I know what you’re doing. You’re pretending you’re that tumbler’s girl, the one walking the pole at the May Fair.”

“I’m not.” I could feel my face going red and I tried to run, but William grabbed me by one of my braids.

“Oh yes, you are. Just wait till I tell Henry, he’ll wet himself. Little Pisspuddle thinks she can walk on a pole and have pretty golden curls and have everyone admire her.”

“Let go!” I yelled.

He twisted my arm round and scrubbed my face with the end of my braid. I hated it when he did that. I fought to wriggle free.

“It’s not a bad idea sending you up a pole. With a face like yours everyone would think we’ve got a performing ferret!”

I yanked my hair out of his hand and ran as fast as I could down the path. I could hear him roaring with laughter behind me. I wished with all my might that they’d put him in the stocks. I’d throw all the dung and every rotten vegetable I could find at him. I’d tie a stinking fish right under his nose and I’d drop spiders and worms and beetles down his neck so they’d wriggle inside his shirt. I’d wait until he was really hungry and thirsty, then I’d eat a big juicy apple right in front of him. Then I’d put earwigs inside his ears and they’d bite their way right through his brain and plop out of his nose and he’d scream and scream. And then I’d, I’d… I’d think of something else to do to him, even worse than that.

father ulfrid

yOU SHOULDN’T HAVE COME, FATHER.” Ralph pulled the blanket tighter round his shoulders.

Inside the cottage, the air felt chill. Dampness seeped up from the beaten earth floor. The fire in the hearth was banked down with turfs to save fuel and barely any warmth from it oozed out into the one room that served as kitchen, living, and sleeping quarters for the family.

I ducked under bunches of dried herbs and onions that hung from the rafters. “Joan said you were not able to come to Mass, because you had the ague. But I’m glad to see you’re recovering a little.”

Ralph was sitting hunched in the chair in the furthest corner of the room. I was more than a little surprised to see him out of bed. I’d suffered marsh-ague once myself and I’d not been able to lift my head from the pillow.

“She shouldn’t have troubled you,” Ralph muttered angrily. He glared at his wife, who stood with her back to the bolted door. I turned to catch her mouthing something at Ralph that I was not intended to hear. There was no obvious sign of fever upon him, but it was hard to see his face clearly by the feeble light of the single rush candle that was burning. Although it was only mid-afternoon, the shutters were tightly fastened.

“And…” I hesitated. “I saw your little daughter Marion in the stocks this morning.”

Joan buried her face in her hands. “There was no call for D’Acaster’s steward to put her in the stocks. She’s only a bairn. I know she shouldn’t have gone out so early. But she’s so small it’s the only way she can glean anything, otherwise the bigger ones push her aside and take it all. I don’t know how we’re going to pay the fine… as if I haven’t got enough to worry about. What with Ralph being…being sick…” She trailed off with a frightened glance in her husband’s direction.

“I believe the fine’s been paid,” I told her. “I heard the leader of the house of women paid it.”

Joan gaped at me in disbelief. “Why?”

“I understand they are women of great charity. She must have taken pity on the child.”

“We don’t need charity from the likes of them,” Joan muttered angrily. “I’ve told the bairns a dozen times never go near them. It’s dangerous to go mixing with outlanders.”

“On this occasion I think you should be grateful, Joan, and I trust you’ll not refuse the Church’s charity.” I uncovered my basket. “I’ve brought you a little mutton, Ralph. I though Joan might make a broth of it for you, if you couldn’t take solid food.”

Joan darted forward to take the meat. “You’re a good man, Father, no matter what they say.”

“And what do they say, Joan?” I asked grimly.

“Nothing, Father,” she said hastily. “Village tattle. Me and Ralph, we take no notice.”

“All the same, I’d like to hear it.”

Joan plucked at her skirt. “Tongues wag; you know that, Father. I heard tell that your last position was in the Cathedral at Norwich, a good living by all accounts. People have been wondering why you left… to come to a parish like this.”

“And do they have an answer?” The band was tightening around my chest again.

“They say… well, some say, that you were banished here on account of…” She looked desperately at her husband, but he did not come to her rescue. “On account of being caught… begging your pardon, Father, in bed with… with a nun, that’s what they say.” She caught up the bottom of her sacking apron and covered her face with it, too mortified even to look at me.

My breath came out in a great snort of laughter. They both looked at me in surprise. “No, no-I can assure you I was not caught in bed with a nun. Or caught anywhere else with a nun, for that matter.”

My chest still ached despite the relief. Once it set in, the pain would take hours to subside. Every day since I’d come to the miserable little village I felt as if I was being stalked by a beast which any moment might pounce on me. Every time I looked into the villagers’ eyes I wondered if somehow they’d found out, if the Bishop’s Commissarius had deliberately let it slip. It was the kind of thing he’d relish doing if it served his purpose.

Joan was watching me, evidently waiting for some kind of explanation.