Outside the meeting house, after Deodat gave his sermon, small groups of congregation members formed and seemed to rotate in a buzz of conversation. They were all talking about the incident in the church.

‘Would you believe that Ann Putman would utter those words? Now Abigail is a bit forward but Ann is always so well behaved. They are truly bewitched.’

‘Do you know what that scoundrel Abigail did in the past?’

‘Go on now.’

The women’s heads knitted together.

‘She put eggs in the toes of all the boots in the last place she lived. When someone puts their foot in and breaks the egg, they yell and their foot comes out with white and yellow goo. Do you know what Abigail did then?’

‘Tell me.’

‘She sat in a corner, where she thought she could not be seen and laughed with her mouth open but no sound came out.’

‘She should have been punished.’

‘She was kicked out.’

‘I’d like to whip her. She’s evil.’

‘Well, she’s not coming into my house.’

‘You know, I don’t think that the pastor has any inkling of Abigail’s past and what she got up to.’

I heard some of them tittering. My sharp ears heard everything. Spring was here but today was miserable. The coldness lay alongside our bones. Women huddled outside the meeting house, their bodies bowed with the wind, while their husbands stood stiff like sentries. The women had mittens and the scarves wound round their necks twice. The heads of two women moved close together, forming a pattern, padded cherubs without wings, without mercy against a slate sky, spitting rain.

My only hope was that the pastor never found out about my earlier antics in houses I had been. Anyway, those tellers of tales had deserved it. They had been mean to me.

But there were those in the village who were just as bad. They enjoyed the tales and would want to spread them. They might call for punishment for past misdeeds. They called themselves Christians. They were bored in this tiny village and looked for sport and gossip to quell their boredom. Panic seeped into my heart. They could make up charges against me. What would happen if they found out that I had knowledge of herbs and their use in healing? I must be very wary. Did I not have the experience of meanness of people against me? They would not care how I fared. I had heard tales of young girls being hanged for knowledge of herbs.