For her New Year’s present to the king Anne commissioned a most extravagant gift. The goldsmiths brought it to the great hall and spent the morning setting it up. When they came to the queen’s apartments to tell her that she might come and see it Anne beckoned to George and to me and said we might come too.
We ran down the stairs to the great hall, Anne ahead of us, so that she could fling open the doors and see our faces. It was a most astounding sight: a fountain made of gold inlaid with diamonds and rubies. At the foot of the fountain were three naked women, also wrought of gold, and from their teats spouted springs of more water.
‘My God,’ said George, truly awed. ‘How much did it cost you?’
‘Don’t ask,’ Anne said. ‘It is very grand, isn’t it?’
‘Grand.’ I didn’t add: ‘But vilely ugly,’ though I could tell from George’s stunned expression that he thought the same.
‘I thought the ripple of the water would be soothing. Henry can have it in his presence chamber,’ Anne said. She went closer to the edifice and touched it. ‘They have wrought it very fine.’
‘Fertile women gushing water,’ I said, looking at the three gleaming statues.
Anne smiled at me. ‘An omen,’ she said. ‘A reminder. A wish.’
‘Pray God a prediction,’ George said grimly. ‘Any signs yet?’
‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘But it’s bound to happen soon.’
‘Amen,’ George and I said together, devout as Lutherans. ‘Amen.’
Our prayers were answered. Anne missed her time in January and then in February again. When the asparagus shoots showed in spring the queen ate them at every meal for they were known to make a boy. People started to wonder. No-one knew for sure. Anne went around with a half-smile on her face and revelled in being the very centre of attention once again.