she wanted to do.
‘I’ve brought Mistress Stannard to see you,’ said Sterry. ‘Finish that panful and then show her what you showed me this morning.’
‘I’m sorry I had to ask you to come all the way down here to see me,’ Madge said to me. ‘But it’s that hard for me to get away, with all this to do, and besides, like before, it’s best if I show you what I mean.’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Sterry drily. ‘I’d better make sure that ninety boxes of peppercorns aren’t accidentally listed as ninety-five. A real disaster that would be. We might find ourselves a few boxes short in ten years’ time!’
He went away. Madge removed her pan from its hook, wiped her hands on her apron and then took me through the kitchens, back to the little room from which, over twenty years ago, Hoxton’s manservant Edwards had collected his master’s fatal dinner.
‘See, mistress, it was just here that the table stood where the tray for Master Hoxton was put ready.’
She moved into the little room and with spread arms indicated the size and position of the table. ‘It’s the queerest thing,’ she said to me. ‘Even at the time, I made nothing of it. I never thought to mention it. I had a picture in my mind of the man I saw come in here and put something on that tray, but everyone kept asking me what did he look like, so I only thought about that. I only talked about that. I never thought—’
‘Never thought what?’ I asked. She was rambling, and it made me impatient, but I used a gentle voice because I could see that she was nervous of my position with the queen and she didn’t have Sterry to support her this time. ‘Come, tell me.’
She came back to stand beside me. ‘I was coming from the kitchens when I saw him. I’d got to about here, where we are now, when I saw this man standing by the table. He was facing this way. I couldn’t see his face very well, but like I told you before, he took a bundle from his satchel, unwrapped a cloth from it and there was the pie in its dish. He put it down on the tray.’
I was at a loss, but still carefully patient as I said: ‘But what exactly is it you’ve remembered?’
‘Well, it’s funny, but after you came to see me the other day, I kept thinking back and seeing the picture in my mind, of what he was doing, and it came up so clear; it was as though I were living all through it again, and then I saw!’
‘Saw what?’ I said, crushing down quite a strong urge to seize Madge by the shoulders and shake her until she talked sense.
‘Well, mistress, that he did nigh on everything with his left hand. I can see it in my head. He had the satchel on his right hip. He pulled out the bundle and put it down with his left hand and unwrapped it with his left. It’s as clear as clear, what I remember, like a picture, only moving. Then he pulled the tray nearer and put the pie on it neatly, like, and all that with his left hand too. And then he folded the cloth up and put it into the satchel with his left hand as well. He was a left-handed man. As sure as I’m standing here or there’s a God in heaven, he was left-handed. So if you were trying to find out,’ said Madge, ‘whether it was one man or another that did it, well . . .’
‘Find out which was left-handed,’ I said. ‘Thank you, Madge!’
I didn’t shake her. I gave her a sovereign and a kiss. It seemed that my first visit to the kitchens had planted a seed which had borne an unexpected harvest. At last, at last, a fact. A fact that might, just, help.
NINE
A Picture of the Past
T o use my new knowledge, I needed to talk to someone who had known Gervase Easton well. I told all the others what Madge had told me. Bowman might help, I thought, and I suggested that Hugh and I should call on him again.
We could not go that day, for I was on duty with Elizabeth. I had to attend her at a series of audiences which broke off for dinner but resumed afterwards. When they finally finished,
‘I’ve brought Mistress Stannard to see you,’ said Sterry. ‘Finish that panful and then show her what you showed me this morning.’
‘I’m sorry I had to ask you to come all the way down here to see me,’ Madge said to me. ‘But it’s that hard for me to get away, with all this to do, and besides, like before, it’s best if I show you what I mean.’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Sterry drily. ‘I’d better make sure that ninety boxes of peppercorns aren’t accidentally listed as ninety-five. A real disaster that would be. We might find ourselves a few boxes short in ten years’ time!’
He went away. Madge removed her pan from its hook, wiped her hands on her apron and then took me through the kitchens, back to the little room from which, over twenty years ago, Hoxton’s manservant Edwards had collected his master’s fatal dinner.
‘See, mistress, it was just here that the table stood where the tray for Master Hoxton was put ready.’
She moved into the little room and with spread arms indicated the size and position of the table. ‘It’s the queerest thing,’ she said to me. ‘Even at the time, I made nothing of it. I never thought to mention it. I had a picture in my mind of the man I saw come in here and put something on that tray, but everyone kept asking me what did he look like, so I only thought about that. I only talked about that. I never thought—’
‘Never thought what?’ I asked. She was rambling, and it made me impatient, but I used a gentle voice because I could see that she was nervous of my position with the queen and she didn’t have Sterry to support her this time. ‘Come, tell me.’
She came back to stand beside me. ‘I was coming from the kitchens when I saw him. I’d got to about here, where we are now, when I saw this man standing by the table. He was facing this way. I couldn’t see his face very well, but like I told you before, he took a bundle from his satchel, unwrapped a cloth from it and there was the pie in its dish. He put it down on the tray.’
I was at a loss, but still carefully patient as I said: ‘But what exactly is it you’ve remembered?’
‘Well, it’s funny, but after you came to see me the other day, I kept thinking back and seeing the picture in my mind, of what he was doing, and it came up so clear; it was as though I were living all through it again, and then I saw!’
‘Saw what?’ I said, crushing down quite a strong urge to seize Madge by the shoulders and shake her until she talked sense.
‘Well, mistress, that he did nigh on everything with his left hand. I can see it in my head. He had the satchel on his right hip. He pulled out the bundle and put it down with his left hand and unwrapped it with his left. It’s as clear as clear, what I remember, like a picture, only moving. Then he pulled the tray nearer and put the pie on it neatly, like, and all that with his left hand too. And then he folded the cloth up and put it into the satchel with his left hand as well. He was a left-handed man. As sure as I’m standing here or there’s a God in heaven, he was left-handed. So if you were trying to find out,’ said Madge, ‘whether it was one man or another that did it, well . . .’
‘Find out which was left-handed,’ I said. ‘Thank you, Madge!’
I didn’t shake her. I gave her a sovereign and a kiss. It seemed that my first visit to the kitchens had planted a seed which had borne an unexpected harvest. At last, at last, a fact. A fact that might, just, help.
NINE
A Picture of the Past
T o use my new knowledge, I needed to talk to someone who had known Gervase Easton well. I told all the others what Madge had told me. Bowman might help, I thought, and I suggested that Hugh and I should call on him again.
We could not go that day, for I was on duty with Elizabeth. I had to attend her at a series of audiences which broke off for dinner but resumed afterwards. When they finally finished,
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