At this my parents exchanged glances.
‘Did she seem to like you, Jon?’ Mother inquired. I recalled what Aunt Harriet had said about that famous will of hers, and how women wanted her to inscribe their children in it.
‘To be honest, Mother, I think not. I can’t say I liked her.’
‘Your relations were civil, though,’ my father urged.
‘Yes, of course. I said I’d go back for the late varieties.’
‘Then we can ask no more.’
We were already overheated with the rich food. Father mopped his brow. ‘It seems the – difficulty – has blown over.’
‘Difficulty, Father?’
‘He means that girl,’ said my plain-speaking mother.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’ve scarcely given her a thought of late. Shall I tell you what I know?’
Mother said, ‘If it’s fit to be told.’
‘He would not repeat anything unfit, I’m sure,’ said Father, crediting me with his own delicacy.
‘She had a gold ring of Uncle Robin’s. Aunt Harriet says she stole it.’
‘Of course she did,’ said Mother. ‘Robin never gave a thing away in his life.’
Father replied, ‘He may have done, Barbara. He knew he was dying.’
My mother’s expression altered as she looked back at him. Recalling herself, she went on, ‘And the girl was brazen enough to wear it?’
‘Whestify" did or not, Aunt found it out.’
‘And took her before the constable?’
I stopped, brought up short. ‘I suppose so. I don’t know.’
‘He’ll send her back to her parish,’ said Mother.
I wondered what my parents would say if they could know that she was earthed in the wood just behind my aunt’s house, warmed and fed by their son; that she claimed she was the only one to care for Robin in his last days; that their son partly believed her, despite having witnessed certain proof that she was a whore, a filthy Maid Marian, just as Aunt Harriet had said; that I was now become her protector in every sense except the carnal one; and that my most recent exploit in the Robin Hood line had been to help her prey on my own family. But why had the constable not whipped her away? Thinking aloud, I said, ‘Tetton Green may be her parish. Her mother –’
‘Mother?’ they cried in chorus.
‘She begged in the village,’ I said with a calmness I did not feel. ‘She’s gone now.’
I had stumbled badly there. I must keep what I knew separate from what I was supposed to know, even in my own mind, lest one should fly out and smash the other to pieces.
‘These beggars are a plague,’ Mother remarked. ‘After the war, yes, there were bound to be beggars with so many injured and ruined and what not. But not now.’
‘They grow wild,’ Father suggested. ‘They forget what it is to be industrious.’
I said, ‘Well, the girl’s turned out of doors in this weather. That’s surely punishment enough.’
* * *
Before bedtime I took Bully over to Simon Dunne’s house.
Dunne looked suspiciously at me, as if he thought I was bringing the horse back under cover of darkness to conceal some injury.
‘You’ve never stayed away so long before,’ he said.
‘It was at my aunt’s – that’s a new one for me. She’d a huge crop, Simon. She could keep Spadboro in cider.’
‘Fine for some folk,’ he grunted.
I saw he was annoyed. ‘I didn’t know it’d take so long,’ I said. ‘I’ve a lot of houses still to call at. Did you want Bully while I was away?’
‘No.’ He shed some of his surliness with this admission. ‘I won’t be wanting him now, as long as you pay up, only I like to know where you are, and then I know where I am.’
We had agreed to settle at the end of the cider season but Ilt I had abused his patience a little and therefore paid him what was owing up till then. The money restored Simon to his usual self but lightened my purse, which had already been bled by Tamar and Joan; had I not been provided for at my aunt’s house I think I would have ended that season in debt.
‘It’s only four days
‘Did she seem to like you, Jon?’ Mother inquired. I recalled what Aunt Harriet had said about that famous will of hers, and how women wanted her to inscribe their children in it.
‘To be honest, Mother, I think not. I can’t say I liked her.’
‘Your relations were civil, though,’ my father urged.
‘Yes, of course. I said I’d go back for the late varieties.’
‘Then we can ask no more.’
We were already overheated with the rich food. Father mopped his brow. ‘It seems the – difficulty – has blown over.’
‘Difficulty, Father?’
‘He means that girl,’ said my plain-speaking mother.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’ve scarcely given her a thought of late. Shall I tell you what I know?’
Mother said, ‘If it’s fit to be told.’
‘He would not repeat anything unfit, I’m sure,’ said Father, crediting me with his own delicacy.
‘She had a gold ring of Uncle Robin’s. Aunt Harriet says she stole it.’
‘Of course she did,’ said Mother. ‘Robin never gave a thing away in his life.’
Father replied, ‘He may have done, Barbara. He knew he was dying.’
My mother’s expression altered as she looked back at him. Recalling herself, she went on, ‘And the girl was brazen enough to wear it?’
‘Whestify" did or not, Aunt found it out.’
‘And took her before the constable?’
I stopped, brought up short. ‘I suppose so. I don’t know.’
‘He’ll send her back to her parish,’ said Mother.
I wondered what my parents would say if they could know that she was earthed in the wood just behind my aunt’s house, warmed and fed by their son; that she claimed she was the only one to care for Robin in his last days; that their son partly believed her, despite having witnessed certain proof that she was a whore, a filthy Maid Marian, just as Aunt Harriet had said; that I was now become her protector in every sense except the carnal one; and that my most recent exploit in the Robin Hood line had been to help her prey on my own family. But why had the constable not whipped her away? Thinking aloud, I said, ‘Tetton Green may be her parish. Her mother –’
‘Mother?’ they cried in chorus.
‘She begged in the village,’ I said with a calmness I did not feel. ‘She’s gone now.’
I had stumbled badly there. I must keep what I knew separate from what I was supposed to know, even in my own mind, lest one should fly out and smash the other to pieces.
‘These beggars are a plague,’ Mother remarked. ‘After the war, yes, there were bound to be beggars with so many injured and ruined and what not. But not now.’
‘They grow wild,’ Father suggested. ‘They forget what it is to be industrious.’
I said, ‘Well, the girl’s turned out of doors in this weather. That’s surely punishment enough.’
* * *
Before bedtime I took Bully over to Simon Dunne’s house.
Dunne looked suspiciously at me, as if he thought I was bringing the horse back under cover of darkness to conceal some injury.
‘You’ve never stayed away so long before,’ he said.
‘It was at my aunt’s – that’s a new one for me. She’d a huge crop, Simon. She could keep Spadboro in cider.’
‘Fine for some folk,’ he grunted.
I saw he was annoyed. ‘I didn’t know it’d take so long,’ I said. ‘I’ve a lot of houses still to call at. Did you want Bully while I was away?’
‘No.’ He shed some of his surliness with this admission. ‘I won’t be wanting him now, as long as you pay up, only I like to know where you are, and then I know where I am.’
We had agreed to settle at the end of the cider season but Ilt I had abused his patience a little and therefore paid him what was owing up till then. The money restored Simon to his usual self but lightened my purse, which had already been bled by Tamar and Joan; had I not been provided for at my aunt’s house I think I would have ended that season in debt.
‘It’s only four days
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