Jean Plaidy (24 page)

Two days and nights had passed. How had I endured it? Whichever way I turned, I met with the same treatment. They were all insisting that I was Nan, the half-mad serving girl suffering delusions that I was a fine lady.

At the end of those two days I was in such deep distress that I had to do something. Despair sharpened my wits. I had to pretend to accept this…for only then might they drop their guard a little, only then might I discover what their intentions were, only then might I find a way to escape.

I had detected a hint of kindliness in Jane. She was rather inclined to be put upon—more so than Gilly, who could stand up for herself.

Jane and I often did the menial tasks together. I watched her when she helped with the pots and pans. She would show me where to find those implements that I had to take to Tom or Meg.

I said to her one day when we were alone in the kitchen, “Where are we? Where is this place?”

“It's in the Chepe,” she said.

I had heard of the Chepe. It was a street in London.

“Who comes here to buy the pies?”

“All sorts.”

“Why am I not allowed in the shop?”

“Dunno.”

“You are.”

“Sometimes.”

“You see people then?”

She nodded.

“How long have you been here?”

“Since Lammas last.”

“You had never seen me before that day Meg brought me down to the kitchen and I fainted, had you?”

She did not answer and turned away.

I must be careful. I must not alarm her, for alarmed she undoubtedly was when I tried to extract information from her. She knew, as they all did, that I was not Nan who had been working with them for some time and who suffered from delusions.

“Does anyone else work here?” I asked at another time.

“Only us.”

“Do any of the people from the court ever come here?”

“I dunno.”

“People from Crosby's Place…the serving men and women there? There must be hundreds of them.”

“I dunno.”

“People from Warwick Court?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

I thought, some might come here. I knew that when my father had been in Warwick Court his men were all over London. I had heard it said that the emblem of the Ragged Staff was seen in taverns all over the city. And if the taverns, why not the cookshops?

They were watchful of me, very wary. I think the quietness that had come over me made them wonder. I had ceased to insist that I was Lady Anne Neville. To them it could seem now and then that I had accepted my role of addle-pated Nan, but they were a little suspicious still.

Tom alarmed me. I would be aware of his eyes on me as I worked in the kitchen. Sometimes he would shout at me, declare that I was a fool, an idiot. At others he would say, “That's good. Coming on, eh?” and he would touch my shoulder. I recoiled when he did that. I could not bear him to be near me. Both Meg and Gilly watched him closely, I noticed.

Whenever I found myself alone with Jane I tried to talk to her.

I said to her one day, “Meg seems very anxious to please Tom.”

Jane looked at me in astonishment.

“They are very happily married, are they?” I went on.

She reverted to her usual reply. “Dunno.”

“Do you think she is a little jealous?”

This was dangerous talk. Jane looked furtive. Then a rather sly smile curved her lips. She said, “Master…he be terrible fond of women.”

         

The weather was hot. The smells of the kitchen permeated the entire place and they nauseated me. I wondered how much longer I could endure this. I tried to tell myself that something must happen soon. Richard would discover I was not at Warwick Court. He would want to know where I was. He would search for me.

I noticed that Tom's eyes strayed toward me often. I thought he was going to find fault with me, but he did not. He asked me to bring one of the pans to him and when I did so, his hand touched mine. I hurried away as quickly as I could. I kept thinking of Jane's words: “Master…he be terrible fond of women.” Poor thin, dirty, dishevelled creature that I must appear to be, I was yet a woman and I trembled.

That night I lay in bed telling myself that I must get away. I must run into the shop, tell someone who I was. I must endeavor to get into the streets. I would run and run. I must find someone who could guide me to Crosby's Place.

I dozed fitfully, for I was always exhausted at the end of the day. I ate scarcely anything. I was growing thinner. It was only my firm belief that this could not last forever that gave me the strength to go on.

I awoke startled. It was as though I had had a premonition of hovering evil. I sat up. I could hear the hammering of my heart.

Then the key was turning in the lock. The door opened quietly and I saw the tall figure of Tom, his eyes glittering, his mouth slightly open, showing his yellow teeth. He was coming toward me, leering, and I could not fail to be aware of his intentions.

With all the strength that I could muster I leaped up. I shrieked loudly. As he came forward, horror and disgust gave me some impetus and I managed to slip past him. He reached out to take hold of me but I evaded him. I was on the stairs that led down to the kitchen. I screamed as he came after me.

Blindly I ran. He was close behind me. I heard him cursing me under his breath.

I was shouting, “Go away. How dare you! Leave me alone! Do you know who I am? If you dare touch me!”

I felt sick with fear and horror. I reached the kitchen, I was pulling at the door that led to the shop. My one idea was to try to get out of this place.

And then I was aware of Meg.

She was standing, her arms akimbo, her eyes blazing. I ran toward her. “Save me,” I cried. “Don't let him…”

She seized me and pushed me behind her.

She started to shout, “You fool! You goat! You'll be having us all on the gallows. You mad or something! And all because you can't see a girl without you've got to be at her. What do you think they'd do to you if they found out, eh? It wouldn't be a nice cozy rope for you…and all of us in it with you. Did you fancy the lady, eh, you idiot?”

I was cowering against the wall. Meg was magnificent in her rage. I was amazed by the effect she had on him. He was staring at her with fear in his eyes. She had changed him from a man determined to satisfy his lust to a cringing object of fear. Her words had struck home. They knew who I was. They had been paid to keep me prisoner, to make me believe that I was a deluded kitchen maid. And for the first time since I had entered this place they had betrayed that. They could not have been more explicit. No longer could they tell me I was demented Nan, the fanciful dreamer. I was myself, the one I knew myself to be. Further attempts at subterfuge would be useless.

Meg said, “Get back to your room, Nan. You're safe enough from this idiot. I'll see to that. And I'll see to you, too, me lad, before you get us all into trouble that'll be the end of us.”

She pushed me toward the door.

I said, “You had better let me go before it is too late. If you let me go now I will do all I can to save you from the consequences of your actions.”

“Shut your mouth,” she said.

She pushed me before her and we mounted the stairs. Another push sent me into the attic. The keys were still on the outside of the door.

“You'll have no more visits tonight…nor any other,” she said.

She locked me in and I heard her go down the stairs.

I leaned against the attic wall, feeling dizzy but in a way triumphant.

I had had a miraculous escape from a fate that would have been intolerable to me. I felt sick when I remembered that loathsome, panting, lecherous creature and what he was contemplating doing. Meg had saved me. I was grateful to her. But she had done more than that. She had wiped away any vague doubt that might have been springing up in my mind. I was myself; I was sane, and I must get away.

They would realize of course that they had betrayed themselves this night, and that Meg was afraid of what danger they might be in. This would certainly be brought home to Meg when she recovered a little from the rage against her husband.

So, horrified as I was by the incident, I knew I should rejoice in it. Meg would be watchful over her husband's attitude toward me in the future and that was the best safeguard against him that I could have.

Sleep was impossible. I lay on my pallet and tried to make plans for escape.

         

Two more days passed. Tom did not look at me. He was clearly ashamed to have been humiliated and defeated by his wife…before my eyes.

Meg avoided me, too. I was glad of that. Her attitude had changed toward me. She was less abusive. I tried to talk to Jane about the streets outside. I said I wished I could go out with her when she went out.

She was silent.

“Could you take me with you?”

She shook her head.

“Jane,” I persisted. “Had you ever seen me before that night when I came?”

She was silent.

“Tell the truth, Jane,” I pleaded. “You were told I was mad Nan and you must pretend I worked here with you but I thought I was someone else. That's right, is it not, Jane?”

She shook her head. “You're Nan,” she said, as though repeating a lesson. “You worked in a grand house once and thought you was the lady there…Lady Anne something. You wasn't right in the 'ead.”

“Jane, you know the truth.”

“Don't you get at me.”

“Jane, if when you go into the streets, you could tell someone…”

She moved away from me. I could see that she was frightened. I wondered about Gilly. She was brighter than Jane. Suppose I tried to bribe Gilly to get me out somehow? How far could I go with her? I felt those two girls were my only hope. Clarence…and it must have been Clarence…would have made the contract with the cookshop owners to keep me a prisoner. I could expect no help from them.

Then it happened. Lust was Tom's downfall, as I supposed it had been of many before him.

After that terrible night, I had become aware of things that had escaped me before. I had seen Tom with Gilly and I guessed that there was some relationship between them. Danger of discovery by Meg would no doubt add an excitement for the guilty pair.

Gilly was a lusty girl and I imagined there would not have been a shortage of lovers in her life, and, like Tom, she would not be the sort to deny herself. For two such people to find themselves in close proximity must have inevitable consequences.

It was the opportunity that I had been waiting for.

It happened in the afternoon, which was a slack time for business. Jane was in the shop in case any customers came in, which was rare between the hours of three and five o'clock. I was in the kitchen, finishing the pans, when suddenly there was a commotion.

Through the window I saw Gilly running into the yard. Her blouse was half off her shoulders. Tom was with her, red-faced and dishevelled, his shirt open—and behind them, the avenging Meg.

Jane came into the kitchen. She was giggling. “Caught,” she whispered. “And no wonder—the way they was carrying on. Anytime…anywhere…”

Meg was angry. She was shouting. “You find your own men, you slut. Get out of this place. I've a mind to send you both off. As for you…you rake…you can't leave 'em alone, can you? Can't have her ladyship, so you'll take the slut.”

Gilly approached Meg. They were both big women.

Gilly's hands shot up and caught Meg by the hair. Meg kicked out and in a moment they were both rolling on the ground, fighting each other.

I had never seen two women fighting before. It was a shocking sight. Tom stood by, looking bewildered and ineffectual. And Jane and I remained at the window, looking out on the scene.

I do not know who was the victor. They seemed to come to a sudden decision. They both stood up and glared at each other. There was blood on both of their faces; their hair hung loose about their shoulders and they looked sub-human.

Then I heard Meg's voice, strident and authoritative: “There's no place for you here. You get out, and sharp. This is my shop.” She turned to Tom. “And I'd have you remember that, too. I want you out of this place, Miss. I'll not have your sort here and it's out, I say.”

I could see the dismay in Gilly's face. It was one thing to fight with Meg in the backyard, but another to be out on the streets. For all her bravado, Gilly depended on her place in the cookshop.

She turned to Tom. “You going to stand for that?”

He did not answer. I saw the power now of Meg. It was her cookshop, and she was not going to let anyone forget it. I wondered briefly how two such women could have fought over Tom. Had I been Meg I should have been glad to turn him out, along with Gilly.

But evidently she did not feel the same. Tom was hers and she was going to keep him, even though it did mean fighting a constant battle against his straying desires.

Gilly hurled a stream of abuse at Meg first, then at Tom.

Then she came inside and left Tom and Meg in the yard. She went up to the room she shared with Jane and, as I heard her heavy footsteps on the stairs, an idea came to me.

I ran up the stairs after her and went into her room. She was sitting on her pallet, glaring before her.

“What do
you
want?” she demanded.

“To talk to you.”

“Get out.”

“No,” I said. “I won't. Where will you go?”

“None of your business.”

“Yes it is. You have nowhere to go. Your face is cut. Can I help you?”

“I said get out.”

“I know how you could do well. You could have a cookshop of your own…if you did what I said.”

“Addle-pate,” she said, but a little more gently.

“Why should you stay here and work for them…even if you could? Why should you be on such terms with a man like that? You could have a shop like this one and choose your own husband.”