again, his long loss of memory is held accountable for any of the many slips he makes, or for the frequent lapses of recall from which he suffers.’ She sighed. ‘It’s impossible for someone as impartial as myself to judge the truth of the matter, let alone one as blind and besotted as the Alderman.’
The housekeeper was apparently being very frank, and I realized why she had not wished the maids to hear what she had to say; so I decided to take advantage of this privacy to probe further. ‘What were the circumstances,’ I asked, ‘of this young man’s arrival? Exactly when and how did it happen?’
Dame Pernelle seemed only too glad to talk. She settled herself in her chair and, without any show of reluctance, embarked upon her tale.
* * *
‘It was the day after Twelfth Night,’ she said. ‘Ned Stoner and Rob Short were taking down the evergreens in the hall, and the two girls were in the kitchen washing the dirty dishes used at dinner. Cook was having a well-earned rest, with her feet up on a stool by the fire, and the Alderman had retired to the parlour after we’d eaten. I was on my way upstairs to the linen press to sort out the items which needed mending, because the seamstress was due the following day and I wanted to be sure that she had enough to occupy her time. I’d just reached the bend in the middle of the first flight of stairs, when there was knock at the street door.
‘I assumed it was Mistress Burnett come to see how her father was, for he’d not been at all well over Christmas. Ned and Rob were both perched on the tops of ladders, so I said I’d go, and came downstairs again. When I opened the door, however, it wasn’t Mistress Burnett but a strange man, wrapped in a very dirty and threadbare cloak, with the hood pulled well forward over his face. There was a grimy-looking bundle on the cobbles beside him, and I was just about to tell him to be off, when he picked up his belongings and shouldered his way past me into the hall, demanding a word with Alderman Weaver. Ned and Rob, seeing what was happening, slid down from their ladders and caught him by the arms, intending to hustle him straight out again. But immediately, the man started to struggle and shout at the top of his voice, which of course brought Cook and the girls from the kitchen and the Alderman from the parlour. Alfred was looking very displeased and demanded to know what was going on.
‘As soon as the man saw him, he got an arm free and pushed the hood back from his face. “Father!” he said. “It’s me, Clement. I’ve come home.” Well, I thought for a moment that the Alderman was going to faint. Rob must have thought so, too, because he went to stand by Alfred, ready to catch him if he fell. Ned, meanwhile, was still trying to force the man in the direction of the door, calling him all the names he could lay his tongue to, and no one could blame him for that. None of us wanted to see the Alderman upset, especially as he had been so poorly. And certainly no one expected him to do what he did.’
‘What did he do?’ I enquired, as Dame Pernelle finally paused for breath.
She turned her blue eyes upon me with the same baffled look in them that they must have worn on the day. ‘The Alderman just gave a great cry and flung his arms round the young man’s neck. “Clement,” he said, “I knew you couldn’t be dead. I’ve always hoped that one day you might come back”.’
‘Just like that?’ I asked, bewildered. ‘No questions? No initial disbelief? No incredulity?’
‘None,’ said Dame Pernelle, ‘neither then nor later, as far as I know. I don’t think any of the rest of us could believe our eyes and ears.’ She broke off for a moment, her face puckered in sudden concentration; then she leaned forward and wagged a finger at me. ‘And it’s just occurred to me, picturing the scene afresh, that no one was more surprised than our visitor. I’d forgotten it until now, but for a second
The housekeeper was apparently being very frank, and I realized why she had not wished the maids to hear what she had to say; so I decided to take advantage of this privacy to probe further. ‘What were the circumstances,’ I asked, ‘of this young man’s arrival? Exactly when and how did it happen?’
Dame Pernelle seemed only too glad to talk. She settled herself in her chair and, without any show of reluctance, embarked upon her tale.
* * *
‘It was the day after Twelfth Night,’ she said. ‘Ned Stoner and Rob Short were taking down the evergreens in the hall, and the two girls were in the kitchen washing the dirty dishes used at dinner. Cook was having a well-earned rest, with her feet up on a stool by the fire, and the Alderman had retired to the parlour after we’d eaten. I was on my way upstairs to the linen press to sort out the items which needed mending, because the seamstress was due the following day and I wanted to be sure that she had enough to occupy her time. I’d just reached the bend in the middle of the first flight of stairs, when there was knock at the street door.
‘I assumed it was Mistress Burnett come to see how her father was, for he’d not been at all well over Christmas. Ned and Rob were both perched on the tops of ladders, so I said I’d go, and came downstairs again. When I opened the door, however, it wasn’t Mistress Burnett but a strange man, wrapped in a very dirty and threadbare cloak, with the hood pulled well forward over his face. There was a grimy-looking bundle on the cobbles beside him, and I was just about to tell him to be off, when he picked up his belongings and shouldered his way past me into the hall, demanding a word with Alderman Weaver. Ned and Rob, seeing what was happening, slid down from their ladders and caught him by the arms, intending to hustle him straight out again. But immediately, the man started to struggle and shout at the top of his voice, which of course brought Cook and the girls from the kitchen and the Alderman from the parlour. Alfred was looking very displeased and demanded to know what was going on.
‘As soon as the man saw him, he got an arm free and pushed the hood back from his face. “Father!” he said. “It’s me, Clement. I’ve come home.” Well, I thought for a moment that the Alderman was going to faint. Rob must have thought so, too, because he went to stand by Alfred, ready to catch him if he fell. Ned, meanwhile, was still trying to force the man in the direction of the door, calling him all the names he could lay his tongue to, and no one could blame him for that. None of us wanted to see the Alderman upset, especially as he had been so poorly. And certainly no one expected him to do what he did.’
‘What did he do?’ I enquired, as Dame Pernelle finally paused for breath.
She turned her blue eyes upon me with the same baffled look in them that they must have worn on the day. ‘The Alderman just gave a great cry and flung his arms round the young man’s neck. “Clement,” he said, “I knew you couldn’t be dead. I’ve always hoped that one day you might come back”.’
‘Just like that?’ I asked, bewildered. ‘No questions? No initial disbelief? No incredulity?’
‘None,’ said Dame Pernelle, ‘neither then nor later, as far as I know. I don’t think any of the rest of us could believe our eyes and ears.’ She broke off for a moment, her face puckered in sudden concentration; then she leaned forward and wagged a finger at me. ‘And it’s just occurred to me, picturing the scene afresh, that no one was more surprised than our visitor. I’d forgotten it until now, but for a second
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