by Dilly Court
‘I wouldn’t peach on you, Grey. I wouldn’t want you to go to prison.’
‘You’re goods to be transported, nipper. That’s what you are to me; nothing else.’ He stared at her for a moment and then turned away. ‘We’ve got a few more miles to go and it gets dark early this time of year. Get back on the cart.’
They travelled on again, and Sarah lapsed into silence. She knew that it was useless to appeal to his better nature, but she continued to hope that something might happen to make him change his mind. Perhaps Mr Arbuthnot would offer a reward for her return. She would put this to Grey at the first opportunity, but he was deliberately ignoring her and she decided to wait until he was more amenable.
She closed her eyes, and although she was conscious of every rut in the road she must have dozed off, as when she opened them again she noticed a change in the landscape. The flat, wooded countryside had opened out into marshland with a salty tang in the air. Tussocks of reed and grass created small islands surrounded by turgid water, and the mournful cries of seabirds soaring above their heads sent shivers down her spine that had nothing to do with the ice-cold air.
‘We’re almost there,’ Grey said, pointing to what looked like the ruins of a cottage in the half-light.
‘This is where you’re taking me?’ Sarah stared at it in dismay. They seemed to be in a wet wilderness miles away from anywhere, and the building appeared to be in a tumbledown state close to dereliction. ‘Take me home, please,’ she cried, clutching his arm. ‘Don’t leave me in this terrible place.’
He pushed her away. ‘Shut up.’ He flicked the whip above the horse’s ear and it plodded wearily on along a narrow track until it came to a halt in front of the building. ‘This is it,’ he said tersely. ‘Get down.’
She shook her head and clung to the seat. ‘No. I won’t. You can’t make me.’
He leapt from the cart. ‘There’s nowhere to run to, kid. These salt marshes are deadly if you don’t know where to put your feet. One false step and you’ll be sucked down into the mud and never seen again.’ He held out his arms. ‘Don’t make me drag you off that seat.’
She realised that it was useless to argue and she allowed him to lift her to the ground. ‘But where is this place? What am I doing here?’
‘It’s not for me to say.’ He stared at her for a long moment. ‘What a sight you look, kid. Maybe she’ll demand her money back.’
‘And you’ll take me home?’
‘Maybe, or perhaps I’ll sell you in the market. You can’t trust me. I’m no good and never will be.’ He seized her by the hand and dragged her up the steps onto the wooden platform that ran the width of the building. A thatched lean-to had been added in an attempt to shield the front of the building from the worst of the weather, but it had begun to rain and water dripped through huge gaps where the straw had rotted away. Grey hammered on the door. ‘Ho there, Elsie. Anyone at home?’
Sarah’s stomach churned and she felt sick with apprehension. She wanted to run away but Grey’s timely warning about the marshland had terrified her, and she slipped her small hand into his. She hoped that no one would come and then he would have to take her away from this dreadful place. She waited, hardly daring to breathe, but just as she thought that her prayers had been answered she heard footsteps and the door opened slowly, grinding on rusty hinges.
‘Who’s there?’
‘It’s me, Grey. I’ve brought the goods you ordered.’
A slatternly woman of indeterminable age held up an oil lamp, peering at them through strands of lank auburn hair. ‘Come inside.’
Grey gave Sarah a gentle push and as she stepped over the threshold a dreadful stench caught her at the back of her throat, causing her to retch. He followed her into the dark, evil-smelling interior. ‘Good God, woman. What in the devil’s name have you been cooking?’
‘Close the door. You’re causing a draught.’ She backed towards the rusty range where a cauldron hung above the open fire.
Sarah covered her mouth and nose with her hand. The lines from Shakespeare’s Macbeth came forcibly to mind. She had seen it being rehearsed by Charles and Ellen Kean, and it had given her nightmares for weeks afterwards. ‘Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble’; never had a quotation seemed more appropriate. The old woman was undoubtedly a witch – there was no other explanation. She huddled closer to Grey. ‘Please take me with you,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t leave me here.’
‘Not now, nipper. This is Miss Fitch and you’re going to be her apprentice.’ He moved closer to the woman, who had set the lamp on the table and was attempting to take the cauldron off the heat. ‘That don’t smell too good, Elsie.’
She brushed her hair back from her face. ‘Give us a hand, you great lump. It’s about to boil over.’
He lifted the pot off the flames. ‘Looks like whatever you’re cooking is trying to escape. I hope that’s not your supper.’
‘Don’t be so cheeky. This is a tried and tested remedy for foot rot.’
‘My feet are fine, I’m glad to say.’
Miss Fitch glared at him, her thin features contorted so that her eyes, nose and lips seemed to form a single feature. ‘It’s for sheep, you fool.’ She pushed past him and picked up the oil lamp, holding it so that she could examine Sarah from head to toe. ‘So this is my new pupil. She won’t do. Take her back – she’s too young.’
‘That’s your problem, not mine,’ Grey said, ramming his hat back on his head. ‘I’ve done my bit by delivering her, and that’ll be ten sovs, as agreed.’
She poked a finger into Sarah’s ribs. ‘This girl can’t be more than nine or ten years old. I asked for someone older and bigger. She’ll not last the winter here.’
‘I’ll be ten January.’ Sarah gulped and swallowed. ‘But I shouldn’t be here, miss. I was taken by force and I want to go home.’
Miss Fitch turned to Grey. ‘So that’s it. The child was abducted.’
‘Take it up with Trigg,’ he said, shrugging. ‘I paid him and now you pay me. That was the agreement.’
‘I wanted a worker, and you’ve brought me a child.’
Grey flexed his fingers and was glaring at Miss Fitch, Sarah observed nervously, as though he would like to wring her skinny neck. ‘I’ve had a long drive and I need to get off these bloody marshes before dark. Now pay up and let me be on my way.’
‘I was wrong to put my trust in that blackguard Trigg.’ Miss Fitch squared up to him, seemingly unafraid. ‘Five sovs and we’re done.’
‘Seven,’ Grey said, holding out his hand.
‘You don’t get a penny until you’ve delivered my stuff.’
Grey raised an eyebrow. ‘And what would that be, Elsie?’
‘Don’t play games with me, you reprobate. Hand it over.’ She snatched a knife from the table and held it to his throat. ‘If you’re trying to extort money from me, Tobias, I swear I’ll use this to good effect.’
He produced a small paper package, holding it above her head as she tried to snatch it from him. ‘Let’s see the colour of your money first.’
She fished in her pocket and drew out a handful of coins. ‘Seven it is then, you dreadful fellow. Now give it to me.’ He passed it to her with a wry quirk to his lips and she dropped the money into his hand. ‘Take it and be off.’
‘No,’ Sarah cried, throwing herself at Grey and clinging on for dear life. ‘Don’t leave me. I’ll die if you leave me here. You heard what the old witch said.’
Miss Fitch let out a shriek of laughter. ‘Witch. Yes, I’ve been called that and worse, but you’ve nothing to fear from me, girl. Unless of course you don’t do as you’re told and then I might well turn you into a toad.’
‘No,’ Sarah wailed. ‘Take me with you, Grey.’
He extricated himself from her desperate grasp, taking her by the shoulders and giving her a shake. ‘I can’t do anything about it, kid. She might look like a witch but she’s a healer. She makes medicines for people and animals. You’ll work for her and l
earn.’ He headed for the door but Sarah ran after him, catching him by the coat tails.
‘Take me and sell me in the marketplace if you like. I don’t want to be turned into a toad.’
He hesitated, staring down at her, and for a moment she thought that he was weakening, but he shook her off. ‘Think yourself lucky that I didn’t do as the Triggs asked and sell you to a whorehouse.’
He wrenched the door open and a gust of cold air almost knocked Sarah off her feet. Seized by panic she tried to run after him but a bony hand grabbed her by the muffler that Grey had wrapped around her neck, and she was jerked backwards with such force that she fell to the floor. ‘Don’t leave me,’ she gasped. ‘Grey. Come back.’
Chapter Six
‘BE QUIET.’ MISS Fitch prodded Sarah with the toe of her boot. ‘I can’t stand the sound of caterwauling, which is why I wanted someone older with a bit of sense.’
Sarah loosened the muffler so that she could breathe more easily. ‘You can’t keep me locked up, miss. I was taken from my rightful master, Mr Arbuthnot of Wellclose Square.’
‘That’s got nothing to do with me. You’re here now, bought and paid for, so you’ll do as you’re told. Get up.’
‘It was the workhouse master who ordered it,’ Sarah said, getting slowly to her feet. ‘He’s a bad man, miss.’
‘All men are bad, if you ask me.’ Miss Fitch folded her arms across her flat chest, giving Sarah a calculating look. ‘Can you read and write?’
‘Yes, miss.’
‘That’s something. Have you got a neat hand?’
‘Miss Parfitt seemed to think so.’ Sarah’s eyes filled with tears at the mention of her idol’s name. She would never see her again and Miss Parfitt would forget all about her.
‘Why are you crying? I can’t stand babies.’
‘It’s Christmas Day and I don’t know why I’m here.’
Miss Fitch raised her thin eyebrows. ‘Is it really? I had no idea, but then time matters little out here on the marsh.’
‘I want to go home, miss.’
‘This is your home now, silly child. You will live with me and learn to be an apothecary. If you are quick and bright I can teach you how to heal the sick. Doesn’t that appeal to you?’
Sarah shook her head. ‘I want Nettie and Cook and Dorcas.’
‘Stop that now. I won’t listen to you drivelling on about what is past and gone. You are here and here you will stay. Tomorrow we will start work, but I can see that you’re tired and probably hungry too.’ Miss Fitch gazed around the untidy room with a perplexed frown. ‘I can’t recall where I put the china bowls.’
Sarah was about to suggest the dresser might be a good place to start, but Miss Fitch had obviously had the same thought. She began to rummage amongst the jumble of items piled one upon the other, tossing notebooks, scraps of paper, quill pens and bunches of dried herbs onto the table until she found two cracked and chipped basins. She filled them from a saucepan that had been simmering on the hob and placed them on the table, pushing one towards Sarah. ‘Sit down and eat.’
‘It’s not for foot rot, is it, miss?’ Sarah asked nervously, staring at the swirling contents of the bowl. She sniffed, but the smell of the cauldron still lingered in her nostrils and the soup, if that was what it was, did not look much different.
‘It’s my own recipe,’ Miss Fitch said, hacking a slice from a loaf that she produced from an earthenware crock. ‘It’s vegetable broth and it will do you good.’ She speared a piece of bread with her knife and flicked it onto the tabletop beside Sarah’s plate. ‘You’ll feel better with food in your belly.’ She took a seat and began to spoon the soup into her mouth. ‘Go on, it won’t poison you.’
Sarah screwed up her face and sipped the hot broth. It was surprisingly tasty and she smothered a sigh of relief. ‘It was the smell of the medicine, miss,’ she said apologetically. ‘It turned my stomach.’
‘You’ll get used to it. I make all my own remedies from herbs that I gather during my excursions into the countryside. I’ll take you with me when the weather permits.’ Miss Fitch laid her spoon down, staring hard at Sarah. ‘But if you prove to be lazy I will be very strict and punish you, and if you are stupid I will sell you to the raddle man. You know what he is, don’t you?’
Trembling, Sarah pushed her plate away. ‘No, miss.’
‘He is red all over and folks say that he is the devil incarnate. If you are bad he will come and get you. Do you understand?’
‘Y-yes, miss.’
‘Good.’ Miss Fitch stared at Sarah, chewing the tip of her finger with a thoughtful expression. ‘I think I might grow to like you, given time.’
Sarah decided that the safest option was to agree to everything this strange person said, and she nodded. ‘Yes, miss.’
Miss Fitch rose to her feet. ‘My name is Elsie Fortunata Fitch,’ she proclaimed, flinging both arms open in a dramatic gesture. ‘But as I hate standing on ceremony you may call me Elsie. What is your name, girl?’
‘At the workhouse they called me Sal Scratch, but my name is Sarah Scrase and I’m not afraid of the raddle man.’
Elsie threw back her head and roared with laughter. ‘You may be just a child, Sarah Scrase, but you’ve got spirit. Finish your meal and then you can start helping me by clearing up some of this mess.’ She jerked her head in the direction of the overloaded dresser and her bed in the corner, which was piled high with what looked to Sarah like rubbish. ‘There’s no need to pull a face,’ Elsie said sternly. ‘I may not be the tidiest person in the world, but I am a woman of science. I answered my calling when I was a girl and I have never regretted my decision to devote my life to healing the sick, whether they be human or animal.’
Sarah finished off her soup and wiped the bowl with the last of her bread. She stood up. ‘I’m ready, miss – I mean, Elsie.’ She frowned. ‘Are you sure you want me to call you by your Christian name, miss?’
Elsie had moved to the range and was stirring yet another pan which was bubbling away on the hob. ‘Ah, but I’m not a Christian, Sarah. I am a child of the forest, a pagan princess. Herne the Hunter and the Greek god Pan are amongst those whom I worship.’ She paused, waving the spoon in the air so that droplets of something brown and sticky fell onto the flames and ignited with a fizz and a pop. ‘I am kin to the green man and he shares his bounty with me.’ She took the pan off the hob and made a dash for the table, setting it down on a charred wooden board. ‘Now find me some bottles, Sarah. There should be some on the dresser, or maybe I put them under my bed. On the other hand they might be outside on the deck.’ She chuckled. ‘I call it the deck because my home is like a small boat, floating on the marsh.’
Sarah scuttled about, searching everywhere for the bottles and discovering them one by one in the most unexpected places. She set them in a neat row on the table and watched Elsie fill them from the saucepan, spilling more of the liquid than she was actually getting in the bottles. ‘What is that stuff, Miss Elsie?’
‘Miss Elsie! I rather like that title. It has a certain ring to it. You may call me that, Sarah, if it suits you better.’
‘Thank you, Miss Elsie.’
‘I do rather sound like a stage actress of some repute.’ Elsie brushed her curtain of hair back from her forehead. ‘I was not always a recluse. I had a different life once upon a time, but that was many years ago before I turned my back on society, and men in particular.’ She leaned towards Sarah, breathing heavily. ‘They’re all rotten to the core, Sarah Scrase. They’ll break your heart if you let them.’
Sarah decided that it would be wiser not to argue and she perched on the edge of a chair, leaning her elbows on the table and watching Elsie bottle the noxious-smelling brew. She still did not know what the mysterious elixir was, or what it was for, but her eyelids were growing heavy and her limbs felt leaden.
Elsie put the cork in the last bottle with a satisfied sigh. ‘There. This is my remedy for coughs and colds. It will soothe a sore throat an
d lull the sufferer into the arms of Morpheus.’ She looked up, frowning. ‘You’re half asleep already, child.’
‘We were travelling all night and it was cold. I wish Grey would come back.’
‘I’ve just told you that men are dangerous,’ Elsie said sternly. ‘Keep away from the male of the species. They’ll be nice to you until they get what they want and then they’ll abandon you. Tobias won’t be coming back until the spring when he brings me a fresh supply of things that can only be purchased in London. He has his uses, but like all of his gender, he is not to be trusted.’
Sarah nodded. ‘Yes. I mean, no.’
Elsie moved to Sarah’s side just as she was about to slide off the seat. She lifted her in her arms and carried her to the bed where she dumped her unceremoniously on a pile of old clothes. ‘You can lie there for now,’ she said, covering her with a greatcoat that smelled of rotten fish. ‘Tomorrow we’ll arrange things differently, but I have work to do before I can rest.’ She moved away and Sarah closed her eyes, sinking immediately into a deep and dreamless sleep.
In the weeks that followed Sarah realised that there was little or no chance of escaping from her present situation and returning to London. The vast expanse of saltings was covered twice daily by the incoming tide, and the marsh interlaced with channels of brackish water created an effective prison. The cart track was the only route to freedom, but as far as she could remember it was several miles to the nearest village.
She had to come to terms with the fact that she was ill-equipped to undertake the long journey back to London as she had neither money nor warm clothing, and the worst of the winter weather was yet to come. The garments that Mrs Trigg had forced upon her were no protection against the cold, and she dressed herself in oddments taken from the pile of clothing that Elsie used as bedding. These were moth-eaten and in desperate need of a wash, but that presented yet another problem. Water had to be fetched from a stream more than a mile away and it was too precious a commodity to waste in the washtub, which was used for anything other than the purpose for which it was originally intended. Elsie’s personal hygiene was questionable, but Sarah had been brought up to value cleanliness. ‘We might be poor,’ her mother had often said, ‘but it costs us nothing to keep clean.’ This, Sarah thought now, might have been a slight exaggeration, but she could recall her mother’s work-worn hands, chapped and sore from constant washing and scrubbing floors, and she vowed that she would never let Ma down. All she had now of her early years were memories of days before they were forced into the workhouse, and she clung to them steadfastly.
