20

Dr Blood’s house suited him. The long, low red-tiled building had a look of a lair about it, and its twisted chimneys and tiny latticed windows made the inside seem uncannily dark.

‘How dare he take Bea! How dare he!’ Susannah had been saying this – or versions of it – since leaving Mistress Cary’s, where a bowl of stew and Ellen’s remaining spare gown had revived her. ‘If he so much as harms a hair on her head, I’ll march him to the highest court in the land!’

She was still convinced she could knock on his door and demand her sister’s safe return. I didn’t dare tell her that in her white cap and plain blue gown, she looked like any other village girl.

Though my plan wasn’t much cleverer: I’d assumed we could hop over the wall and sneak in through the kitchen when the maids were elsewhere. That idea was promptly dashed when we saw Dr Blood’s dogs. There were four of them, the size of bull calves, roaming loose in the garden. They smelt us even before they’d seen us, and hurled themselves at the wall. It made me jump out of my skin. When a maid came outside to investigate the barking, we ducked behind the nearest tree.

‘Your next bright idea, please?’ Susannah asked, when the maid had gone inside again, and the dogs calmed down.

I didn’t have one. What made it worse was hearing Bea, shouting and screeching, inside the house. We could see maids moving in front of the windows, passing a baby between them. It was awful knowing we couldn’t help.

‘Oh, I wish they could settle her,’ Susannah fretted.

‘If they just rubbed her back and blew on her face,’ I agreed. ‘She likes that.’

‘I thought you weren’t fond of babies.’

‘I’m fond of Bea. She can say my name, you know.’

Susannah tried not to smile.

*

We watched the house for an hour or more. The maids kept walking Bea to and fro, though it didn’t do much good. She had stamina, did Bea, when it came to yelling. And from the speed with which each maid was passing her on to the next, it was obvious they were getting fed up. I counted four maids in total. The smoke coming from the chimneys was a sign that Dr Blood was also at home: this was confirmed when we finally heard him shout, ‘FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE, WILL SOMEONE QUIETEN THAT BABY!’

‘Perhaps he should get off his backside and try,’ Susannah muttered crossly.

I’d not heard her say such a coarse word before, but it got me thinking. What if Dr Blood did have to take care of Bea, all by himself? He was keen enough to snatch her from me, so perhaps he should have a taste of what he’d taken on – a real taste, not the half-measures kind where four maids were doing the hard work for him.

*

A short while later we’d agreed on a new plan. It involved chicken carcasses and lies – lots of lies – about a pedlar making it through the floods somehow and arriving in Glastonbury with ribbons to sell, and soap, and perhaps even some sugar, and how everyone was rushing to buy what he had. This was Susannah’s idea, because she said no one could resist nice things when they knew everyone else wanted them. Which was a little how it was with the crewel-work piece.

‘You have still got it?’ I asked.

She patted her sleeve, which on Ellen’s dress was wider than her nightgown had been, so I advised her to tuck it up past the elbow.

‘Just in case of thieves,’ I said, knowingly.

‘You’ve never had anything stolen, have you?’

‘Once. At the hiring fair.’ I felt a prickle of anger, recalling it. ‘That woman who nearly hired me before your father came along.’

Susannah looked thoughtful. ‘Hmmm, I remember. Though I don’t believe she was stealing from you.’

‘She ran off with a parcel my mother gave me,’ I insisted. ‘I’d call that thieving.’

She shrugged. ‘It looked to me as if she’d taken fright at something.’

‘What, Maira?’ I wasn’t convinced. The woman I remembered didn’t look the type to be scared of anything – or anyone.

Susannah was on her feet, brushing dead leaves off her skirts.

‘Come,’ she said. ‘We’ve a baby to rescue.’

*

The chicken carcasses came from the nearest ale house. I crept into the back kitchen when no one was looking, and took as many as I could carry from the pile waiting for the cooking pot. Back at Dr Blood’s I lobbed a couple over the wall. Just as I’d hoped, the dogs went crazy and were so busy fighting over them, Susannah was able to dash up the path unnoticed.

I watched with baited breath as she knocked on the door. Having never understood the lure of soap or ribbons, I wasn’t entirely convinced the ruse would work. But Susannah, with her expensive voice, quickly captured the maids’ interest. Or maybe it was the result of a morning with a squawking baby, and they couldn’t wait to leave the house.

‘Dr Blood’s not happy. I heard him shouting,’ Susannah whispered, once she’d joined me behind the tree again.

‘Good. That’s the plan.’

Moments later, the door opened, and the maids, baskets tucked under their arms, hurried down the path.

‘I FORBID YOU TO GO. COME BACK AT ONCE!’ roared a voice from inside.

The last maid, giggling, pulled the door shut behind her. They disappeared off down the lane.

‘How long do we wait?’ Susannah asked.

‘Until he cracks and comes out.’

We watched the house. I chewed the skin round my fingers. Susannah sucked an end of her hair.

From inside, Bea’s faint cries could still be heard. This time no one walked her up and down at the window. It was getting harder to listen, to be honest, thinking she’d just been left to sob her heart out.

Susannah stood up.

‘I can’t bear it any more,’ she said. ‘I’m going to get her.’

She hadn’t taken a step when the front door flew open.

‘Get down!’ I hissed.

She dropped to a crouch again as Dr Blood came storming down the path in his shirtsleeves. Bea wasn’t with him: it was exactly as I’d hoped.

‘Can’t be expected to work in these conditions …’ he was muttering. ‘Any more of that racket and I’ll go mad …’

The dogs ran up to him in greeting, but he pushed them away, charged out of the gate and went after the maids.

I met Susannah’s eye. ‘Now?’

She nodded.

The remaining chicken carcasses went over the wall first, us following quickly behind. We sprinted up the path. The front door was unlocked, but stiff. I shouldered it open and we rushed in. The house was stuffy, smelling of smoke and roasting meat, and though Bea had been in here howling, she certainly wasn’t now. It was deadly quiet.

‘Try the kitchen,’ I told Susannah. ‘I’ll look in the upstairs parlour.’

There was nothing there but a cat fast asleep in a chair. Starting to panic, I ran back downstairs, almost straight into Susannah.

‘Look who I found,’ she said.

Bea, red-faced and wet-eyed, was gazing up at her sister. I nearly sobbed myself with relief.

‘We need to hurry,’ I warned. ‘Those chicken carcasses won’t last long.’

As it was, they were gone, entirely. The dogs’ heads were up: they’d smelt us and were interested. We pelted down the path, as fast as anyone could in long skirts, the dogs giving chase. I reached the wall first and vaulted over. The pain in my rib made me yelp.

‘Quick! Take her!’ Susannah cried, handing me Bea.

She scrambled over the wall, kicking at the dogs as they leaped for her feet. And then she was over, landing awkwardly beside me.

We grinned at each other. We’d done it. Bea clutched her sister’s hair and giggled.

As we started walking, Susannah checked her sleeve again for the crewel work. The frown on her face made me stop.

‘It’s not there, is it?’ I said, dread upon me.

She shook out her arm frantically.

‘I had it, I swear I did,’ she cried.

But we both knew the full horror of what had happened: she’d dropped it inside the house.