The Girl in the Mask (20 page)

I didn’t argue, though I preferred my first choice. Instead, I added a cap to the growing pile, paid for the items and waited patiently while the shopkeeper made up a brown-paper parcel for me. Considering how ill and despairing I’d felt just a few moments before, I felt light and energized now. At last I had a means of escape within my grasp. My trammelled existence would once more be broken up with freedom and excitement. And tricking Mr Charleton into helping me was simply delightful.

When we reached home, Mr Charleton handed me out of the chair. He kept hold of my parcel, however, while he paid off the chairmen, thus foiling my plan to escape into the house and avoid further questioning. When they’d left, he bowed over my hand. Retaining hold of it, he looked closely at me. ‘You seem much better,’ he said.

‘I am. It must have been a momentary faintness,’ I agreed. ‘I feel quite restored now. Thank you for bringing me home, though. I’m very grateful. And of course I’m grateful for your advice too,’ I added kindly, repressing a grin.

‘I’m happy to see you so much restored. But, Miss Williams, please, please, promise me you won’t go out into the city alone. It isn’t wise.’

‘I’m so confined by my aunt, sir, there’s little chance of that,’ I replied, determined to promise nothing. I moved to pull the doorbell to be let in, but Mr Charleton caught my hand again.

‘Not so confined that you can’t get out of the house. I
know
what you have been up to,’ he said softly.

I looked down at his hand on mine. I felt sick; he knew things about me he had no right to know. Gathering my courage, I looked up at him. ‘Know what?’ I said unsteadily, dreading what I might hear.

‘I recognized those chairmen, when we rescued you from them. That was a dangerous game. Come, Miss Williams. Confess you bribed them to tip Sir Oswald out.’

I laughed shakily, weak with relief that he knew no worse. ‘You’re sorely mistaken, sir,’ I told him lightly. ‘I had nothing more to do with his accident than that I was guilty of enjoying the spectacle. The rest is coincidence.’ I disengaged my hand and pulled the doorbell. As the peal rang through the house, I curtseyed to Mr Charleton. ‘You’ll forgive me if I leave you now, sir? The sun is making me feel unwell again. Thank you for your escort.’

I could hardly wait for darkness to fall that night. The prospect lightened my mood so much that I was even able to be civil to my aunt. She too was in a good mood when she returned; relaxed and cheerful after her win at the tables that afternoon.

‘We shan’t be going to the baths in the morning, Sophia,’ she told me over supper. She reached for some gravy and poured it over her mutton and potatoes. ‘After the Sunday morning service at the abbey, we have a treat in store for you.’

I looked up. For one moment I thought it really might be something nice, and then my common sense reasserted itself. ‘
We?
’ I asked suspiciously. ‘What treat?’

‘After you felt ill, Captain Mould was saying how very stifling the city has become in this heat wave. He suggested an afternoon outing in his carriage tomorrow, to get some fresh air: a trip to Lansdown to admire the views and see the ancient hill fort. There! Won’t that be lovely?’

‘I can hardly wait,’ I said with heavy sarcasm.

‘You’re quite the most ungrateful girl I’ve ever met,’ snapped my aunt, putting down her cutlery with a clatter and glaring at me, her good mood gone.

‘I dislike Captain Mould,’ I told her. ‘He frightens me. You don’t like him either!’

‘I … ? Nonsense! And it’s not for you to have likes and dislikes!’ exclaimed Aunt Amelia sharply. ‘Goodness knows
you
haven’t made yourself popular here. If you had scores of admirers, perhaps you could pick and choose. But you have not. You’d do well to remember that and make yourself a bit more generally agreeable.’

The night air was clammy, as though the city was exhaling its moist, steamy breath all over me. I shuddered slightly as I clambered over the sticky roof tiles and onto the parapet. I’d had to tie a scarf around my breasts before I put my shirt on. They’d definitely grown recently; I was developing a woman’s figure. That had put me in a bad mood. I didn’t want any signs of womanhood upon me, especially not any that limited my freedom.

I strolled through the streets, enjoying the freedom of my shirt and breeches, my long brown hair hidden under my boy’s cap. The official night life of the city was over very early, but many people were still out drinking and gambling in the less select and glamorous surroundings of the city’s inns and taverns.

On the corner of Cheap Street, I ran into Mr Charleton walking along in earnest conversation with Mr Allen. I didn’t trouble to conceal myself. Sure of my disguise, I merely pulled my cap down a little lower over my face and walked by. Mr Charleton looked right at me, but no glimmer of recognition appeared in his face. I walked on feeling gleeful and triumphant.

The streets were busier than I’d seen them at night. Groups of men were walking together, entering and leaving inns or merely hanging about, rowdy with drink. I strolled up and down the High Street for more than an hour hoping to catch a glimpse of Jenny. She was nowhere to be seen. Eventually I gave up and bought myself a pie from a servant girl at the kitchen window of an inn.

Heading down to the river, I climbed over the wall into Harrison’s gardens to eat in peace, settling down on a bench in the shadows. The gardens were closed and dark. It was peaceful. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees and cooled me. I leant back, closed my eyes and felt temporarily at peace. The loud voices and drunken singing from the city reached me only faintly.

On the way home, I took a shortcut through the abbey courtyard, as I knew this was a likely spot for Jenny to be; plenty of fat pockets to pick. Unusually, a horse was tethered outside a lighted inn. There were few horses to be seen in the city at any hour, but this late at night it was surprising. A young lad was sitting on the ground next to him, but had fallen asleep at his post, his head tipped back until it rested on the wall behind him, his mouth open.

I walked on, looking closely at the ragged figures sitting or standing in the shadows. I’d only gone some thirty paces further, when an urchin in rags erupted out of an inn in front of me. The lad had already run halfway across the road before I’d recognized Jenny in boy’s clothes. Before I could call after her, several men piled out of the door after her shouting ‘Stop thief!’ Two of them spotted Jenny and took off after her at a run. She was drawing ahead of them until a burly man stepped around a corner and she cannoned into him, lost her balance and fell headlong onto the stones.

‘Catch her!’ yelled the men in front of me. The large man made a grab for Jenny, but his protruding belly prevented him from bending forward easily and she wriggled free. She stayed on the ground on all fours, however, fighting for breath as the men closed in on her. I realized she was winded from her fall. If they caught her, she would be hanged for sure. I had to do something, quickly.

I watched helplessly until I remembered the horse. Turning around, I sprinted back towards it. The reins were looped loosely over a post and I grabbed them, flinging them over the horse’s head, startling him. The stable boy had been roused by the shouts but was still sitting on the ground, rubbing his eyes, groggy with sleep. By the time he’d scrambled to his feet, I was already mounted.

‘Hey, you can’t take that horse!’ he shouted. I took no notice, kicking the animal straight towards Jenny. Nervous and confused by this strange turn of events, he clattered across the cobbles, head high. I forced him to barge right into the knot of men around Jenny. One was knocked to the ground, the rest scattered with shouts of shock and anger. I reached my hand down to the dirty, bruised girl in the gutter. She grabbed it without hesitation and swung herself up into the saddle behind me. Then we were away, Jenny’s arms around my waist, into the narrow alleys of the city. We wound this way and that to lose pursuit.

‘Left, left,’ cried Jenny hoarsely behind me. I wheeled the horse sharply and we cantered down a narrow alley, terrifying a drunk, who staggered out of our way in the darkness, slipping in the rubbish. ‘Now right,’ gasped Jenny. We’d reached the city wall. ‘Now over there,’ said Jenny, tugging at my sleeve. I rode to a water trough placed against the wall, a tree overhanging it from the other side. Jenny slid down from the horse’s back, placed a foot on the trough, grabbed the overhanging branches and swung herself up onto the wall. Balanced there, she turned and beckoned.

‘But the horse … !’ I said doubtfully.

‘They’ll find him,’ she replied impatiently.

I knotted the horse’s reins loosely over his neck, gave him a pat, and followed Jenny down onto the trough and then up into the tree. She grabbed my arm and helped pull me up. The horse, relieved of our weight, set off at a smart trot down the street.

‘Quickly. Follow me!’ whispered Jenny. She climbed through the tree and dropped into the grass on the other side of the wall. I jumped down after her. Jenny set off at a run, a shadowy figure in the darkness. I followed, wondering where we were going.

We ran across two meadows, pushed through a tangled copse in the pitch darkness and then skirted a cornfield. Jenny vaulted a gate at the far end of the field; a boy’s trick. I copied her and saw her teeth flash white in a brief, approving grin as I landed, and then she was off again, running lightly between a huddle of cottages. They cast their dense shadows over us as we followed the narrow cart-track between them. Lights shone from an inn, the other houses were in darkness at this late hour, their inhabitants slumbering.

At the end of the village street was a narrow lane. Jenny made for a tumbled-down hovel at the end, pushed open the creaking door and disappeared into the gloom. A few seconds later, light glowed from a candle thrust into the embers of a small fire. I could see enough to step inside.

It was a small, low-ceilinged room with a smoke-blackened fireplace and dingy walls. The furniture was shabby: a crooked table, some battered chairs and a dresser with untidy shelves. The smell of the tallow candle was strong; an earthy, animal scent that made me cough. Jenny was peeling off her jacket to peer at her bruised upper arm.

‘You’re hurt!’ I exclaimed, but she shrugged it off. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said. She poured some water from a jug into an earthenware bowl and dipped a cloth into it. ‘My knee hurts more.’ She pulled up her breeches, revealing a graze that was oozing blood. She dabbed at it with the wet cloth and then looked up. ‘I got to thank you,’ she said, her eyes meeting mine. ‘It was lucky you was there. I’d be in the lock-up now else. The man was less drunk than I thought.’

‘You’re welcome,’ I told her. ‘I was looking for you. I have news and I need your help.’

‘What news?’ asked Jenny, catching her breath as the water stung her graze.

‘Your brother Bill is here. He’s come to the Bath to find you.’

The graze was forgotten, the cloth thrown aside. ‘Bill here?’ gasped Jenny, her face joyful. Then her expression changed, the sparkle of pleasure fading, to be replaced by one of pain and suspicion. ‘You mustn’t tell him where I live! Oh, why did I bring you here?’ Jenny clenched her fists. She was glaring at me now. ‘This were all a trick, weren’t it? So you could find out where I lived and betray me!’

‘Betray you?’ I cried indignantly. ‘He’s your
brother
! He cares about you. I didn’t ask you to bring me here and I wouldn’t dream of telling him where you are unless you want me to.’

Jenny’s suspicious eyes flashed at me in the flickering candlelight. ‘Swear to me you won’t give me away!’ she insisted.

‘I give you my word. I only want to help you.’

Gradually her fists unclenched and the fire died out of her eyes. She sat back down, still staring intently at me. ‘You’re the quickest-tempered, most suspicious person I’ve ever met,’ I told her, exasperated. ‘Why do you want to hide from him, anyway? A minute ago you were delighted to hear he was here.’

Jenny picked up the cloth. There was a flush in her face. ‘Look how I live!’ she muttered, indicating the unkempt, tatty room with disgust. ‘You knows what I do fer a living! I don’t want to shame him. He’s got strict notions.’

‘Won’t you at least meet him?’ I coaxed her gently. ‘He’s come all this way. You don’t have to tell him how or where you live.’

‘I could do that,’ she agreed slowly. ‘It’d be good to see him. As long as there’s no following me home,’ she added, casting me another frowning look.

‘I’m your friend. Is it likely I’d betray you?’

‘Friend,’ snorted Jenny. ‘You with your fancy clothes, grand house and la-di-da ways. You’re only
friends
with the likes of me as long as it suits you.’

‘I’m sorry you think that,’ I said, stung by her harshness. ‘I’ll relieve you of my unwanted presence.’ I got to my feet as I spoke.

Jenny laughed. ‘Now who’s quick-tempered?’ she said.

‘With good reason,’ I said walking to the door. Jenny had hurt me. I’d really meant what I’d said about friendship.

‘Oh, give over, do,’ she said. ‘I’ll even say I’m sorry.’