The 21st to the 23rd day of December 1752

Midwinter

Luminary: Day decreases 7 hours 34 minutes long.

Observation: Sun in Capricorn 56 minutes after 11.

Prognostication: All public actions at a standstill.

 

The oilskin in the cart beneath which Tabitha sheltered soon resembled a little tent of snow. By the time they reached Moss Hill, the cart horses whinnied in distress, slithering in the ruts. Tabitha clambered down and walked behind the cart, her boot soles sliding on treacherous ice-glazed mud. With grim resolve, the carter coaxed the horses to the crown of the hill, where they stood, steaming and snorting clouds of vapour from their nostrils.

Tabitha looked back towards Chester, wiping away the flakes that stuck to her eyelashes. The distant curl of the river, the dozen church towers and wide roofs of the city were disappearing in a covering of muted grey and white. She wondered if Joshua and Jennet were also on the road, or more sensibly, had found lodgings that night. The carter motioned her to climb aboard again. Beneath her oilskin tent, she watched the snow tumble earthwards, smothering the familiar route like a shroud masking a well-loved face. Soon she and Nat would be fugitives, hiding from the world, scraping by in lodgings shared with those who also lived outside the law. And Nat was no longer the strong and vigorous man she had first met; more than six weeks in prison had left him thin and weakened, his ankle raw from the iron ring. She needed to nurse him, and to rebuild his strength. She felt unequal to such labours, for as well as anxious, she was vastly tired. Her eyes drooped as she watched the scene trundle past her: leafless trees laced with snow, the low sky turning bloodshot violet as the sun set.

Saint Thomas Grey, Saint Thomas Grey,

The longest night and the shortest day.

It was impossible to believe that from tomorrow the world would gradually spin back towards the brighter days of springtime.

She woke, rigid with cold, to find herself on the benighted high street of Netherlea. Hauling herself down from the cart, she was guided back to the cottage by the radiant silver disc of the Yuletide moon. The stepping stones glittered in the colourless light and felt treacherous as she teetered across them. Pale frills of ice were growing around each shimmering stone.

It was six o’clock by the church bell when she gratefully opened the cottage door and Nell Dainty rose from her place at the fireside. Bess ran towards her with plump arms extended, squealing with pleasure.

‘I thought you was never coming back.’

Tabitha eyed the steaming teapot sitting within easy reach of Nell and bit her tongue. ‘Have you any news of Joshua and Jennet?’ she asked, instead. ‘I’ve not seen them on the road – it seems they may have stayed in Chester.’

‘Not a word.’ Nell pulled on her cloak and black bonnet. ‘She has been very quiet, the little maid. There’s some milk in the pail for her in case the river ices up.’

Tabitha was still pulling off a great deal of wet woollen clothing. ‘That’s very generous of you.’ In as friendly a fashion as she could muster, she asked, ‘So, are you all set to move in here on the first day of January?’

‘Aye. My old place is leaking like a rusty bucket. I reckon the constable kept this place in good order for your mother. It’s a bit lonely, mind you, with not a neighbour about to call upon. But I’ll send my goods over in a barrow then.’

Holding Bess against her hip, Tabitha twirled the girl’s golden ringlets around her forefinger.

‘When I leave, Nell, would you take care of Bess until I can fetch her? She’s content here at the cottage, and now she knows you well enough. I’ll pay her keep, naturally.’

Nell’s face lit up like a lamp.

‘I don’t see why I can’t take her off your hands, altogether.’

‘Oh, I shall want her back.’

Nell’s eyes narrowed, and the familiar twist to her mouth reappeared.

‘So when will that be, then?’

‘I shall write,’ Tabitha said more airily than she had intended. ‘And tell you when I’m settled.’

‘You’ll not stay for the trial, then?’ She thought she glimpsed malice in Nell’s face.

‘No.’

Oh God, all of this weighs upon my shoulders, she thought. She wondered again how all these complicated matters could be arranged when she felt more despondent and weary than she ever had done in her life.

The next morning, she and Bess traipsed soggily into the village; Joshua and Jennet had still not returned. Though the baker had sold all his penny loaves, Tabitha bought a few stale rolls and a bag of flour.

‘No one came up that road since last night,’ the baker’s boy told her. ‘It were you and the carter last of all.’

‘So the road is blocked with snow?’

‘I reckon so. Some of the farmer’s lads are setting off to take a look.’

By the time she and Bess turned for home, lamps were being lit in windows along the High Street and chimneys puffed woodsmoke into the air. She had firewood, plain food and drink. Trying to beat down her growing sense of alarm, she consoled herself that there was still time aplenty before Christmas Eve.

On the twenty-third of December Tabitha carried Bess above knee-high snow drifts to Eglantine Hall. She lit a fire in Nat’s fireplace, for the apartment was damp and musty, and found a box of tea and some dry biscuits. While Bess scampered joyfully back and forth across the long chamber, Tabitha gathered up Nat’s belongings. First she packed his fine clothes in his portmanteau; all save for the fine woollen coat with gold braid and brass buttons, which he had loved to see her wear. She pulled it on and felt as warm as if his arms encircled her. Standing in front of the mirror she placed his second-best tricorne hat on her hair. It was almost like seeing Nat swaggering before her in his lordly London costume. Damn – the mirror showed she was as pale as snow herself, save for the shadows around her eyes.

Next, she found his pocket watch draped over the headboard and tucked that into her pocket. There was a good engraved inkwell too, and some fine leather-bound books that she might sell. Yet, even as she calculated their value, her spirits sank. She had already decided it would be unforgiveable to sell Jupiter. She picked up Nat’s telescope, but felt, again, that she could never deny Nat his passion for gazing at the stars.

While Bess played on the floor, Tabitha sank into a chair beneath the tall oriel windows. The early dusk revealed clear and glittering constellations, presaging another cold night. She raised the telescope to her eye and set the lens upon a few of those celestial bodies that Nat had taught her to locate: the blue diamond of Venus, yellow-ringed Saturn, the shining sword and girdle of Orion. The moon was still almost full tonight, as pock-marked as a sphere of shell.

If only the answer were in the pattern of the stars. She picked up Nat’s copy of the almanack and noted with a heavy heart that after the morrow a mere fourteen days remained until his trial. Exiled from the sun’s warming rays, the earth now hung upon the cusp of time, and so did they. Nat’s box was packed and ready; her mind was set upon a new course of life, she was eager to forge ahead. Yet a disturbing premonition tainted her thoughts: that time had solidified. The future she desired was no longer certain: unseen and unstoppable forces were blocking her path.