“That attack was not real,” said Deirdre. “But when it comes, that is how it will unfold, if you are not ready. Wait. Make yourself ready. Prepare. And be brave. These soldiers are more merciless than you can imagine and their guns are terrible. And I leave two who can help.”
With that, she was gone, an antelope vanishing in the shadows under the trees. When Half Moon returned to his longhouse, Issoria and Vanessa laid their hands on his shoulders.
“We are your sisters,” said Issoria.
“We will lead you to your destiny,” said Vanessa.
He made to answer, but no words came from his lips, as he slipped, lost, into their terrible gray eyes.
Chapter Six
SOMETHING SAVED AND SOMETHING LOST
It was a part of town Katie hadn’t visited before and the narrow, twisting alleyways were difficult to navigate. She met few others, and when she did they’d look away and keep their errands to themselves. She’d been given good directions however, so she found the door she sought. It was a crooked door in a squalid house and it bore an enamel plaque which read ‘Madam Fortunata’ in an intricate, ornate script. She walked the twisted path through the sad, little garden in front, full of dead plants and withered blossoms, and hesitated before knocking at the door. She’d rather have passed this house by and returned home, but the errand that brought her was a desperate and a powerful one, and she hadn’t forced herself to come all this way only to turn back now. She knocked and waited a silent minute, her heart almost giving way. She knocked again, harder this time, and was answered by a croaking, squawking voice, “Come again. Come again.” What does that mean, she thought to herself, I should come again another time? “Please, is anyone at home?” she called. She was almost ready to give up and leave when the door was opened by an elderly woman in a faded gown. Her black hair was streaked with gray, and she wore it in a scarf. Something green and orange rested on her shoulder which it took Katie a moment to recognize as a parrot.
“Is this the house of Madam Fortunata?” she asked, knowing full well it was.
“Aye. Come in, girl. But that,” pointing to Tommy Dog, “will wait outside.”
“He’s trained in the house. Must he stay out?”
“He’ll trouble my cats.”
“Come again,” squawked the parrot.
“He won’t. He’s tame and he’ll sit at my knee.”
“Suit yourself. You can go, or you can come in, but I’ll not have a dog in my house.”
Ever since the day he’d been rescued, Tommy Dog had held close to Katie. She knew he’d be skittish if left on his own, remembering the treatment he’d endured before, but Katie saw nothing for it. She told him to be a good dog and tied him to a post, promising to be out as soon as she could.
Once inside, Fortunata proffered a chair in the parlor and then parked herself on a settee. The interior of the house was cluttered with furniture, and the walls were taken up with shelves. There were a multitude of plants in pots of all sizes on the shelves, the windowsills and the floor. Leaves, tendrils and vines were everywhere in a confusion of greenery. There were also many small bottles, alembics and retorts, several with fly-specked labels, and some left open, sitting on the various shelves and objects of furniture. Katie was struck by the contrast between the flourishing flora in the house and the dead plants in the garden without.
“I’ve heard it said you can make up a simple, such as a barrenwort or a mayapple, that a woman can take when she’s a need.” She felt her resolution wilting under the older woman’s coolly assessing gaze.
“There be many such. What have you a need for?” And she took up her fan, which she fluttered in front of her face. Then she stopped, and looking straight at Katie’s belly she whispered, “Oh, there’s another one inside.”
“Is it spelled out on my forehead then?” She smiled uncomfortably. “I hadn’t thought it was yet so obvious as that.”
“Oh, it isn’t, it isn’t.” Fortunata placed her head near Katie’s belly and stroked it very gently with her cold, skeletal hand, saying, “Hush now, hush now . . . Its little heart is beating. Yes it is . . .”
“That’s what brings me here. I’ve the need to do away with what’s in my belly.”
“Come again,” squawked the parrot.
“Can he say nothing else?”
“Times he curses me. Come, Henry, on your perch.” Evidently Henry was the parrot. Katie saw now he was wearing a pair of spectacles. Fortunata rose and maneuvered him onto a swinging rod where he sat happily clucking to himself. “It’s a distressing need.”
“That it is. I’ve a few coppers I can pay.”
“This isn’t a shop. I’m not a shopkeeper. I’ll give you, if I can, what it is you’re asking. Then in return you’ll give me its worth to you. It’s an exchange of gifts. That’s not a method would work in a shop, but it’s how it’s always done. It’s not old, this little one. Good you didn’t wait. The tiny heart just started beating. But we’ll put a stop to it . . .” Fortunata stepped away. Katie began absent-mindedly stroking her tummy, carrying on what Fortunata had begun, soothing herself with soft, gentle strokes.
Fortunata was fanning herself while she examined the bottles on the shelves. “Let me see . . . An admixture of your common buttercup I think. With a little of the goldthread. You haven’t put one of these away before, have you?”
“No. Never.”
“It will be a bit of an ordeal. Always the first is the worst.”
“Will I drink it and then it will just flush away the little one? I’ve an understanding that’s how it’s done.”
“Yes, yes . . . I have something here . . .” She had retreated to a darkened corner, running her eyes across the shelves. “Perhaps a few drops of this,” she said, picking up a small bottle with a crimson label that read ‘winter heartbreak.’ “No,” she changed her mind and returned the bottle to the shelf and stood musing, as if looking for something that should have been there, but wasn’t. Katie thought the way the bottles were lined up was a little disorderly, and she saw not all of them had labels.
“Bones and ashes . . . Bones and ashes,” said the parrot.
She saw one of the little labels had fallen off and was lying near her foot. While Fortunata was looking through her shelves she picked it up. It said ‘sinful memories.’ At that moment Fortunata took two vials from the shelves and placed them on a table. Then she turned to Katie and said, “That dog is scratching the paint on my door. Can you not hear?”
“I am sorry. I should have clipped his nails. I’ll just go and tighten his leash.” Katie stepped outside and saw a mop of black hair and shoes with buckles she remembered from before. “Down, boy.”
“Thought I recognized my dog. That is my dog, you know.”
“Have you nothing better to do than to follow a dog through the lanes of the city?” She meant it for a sharp rebuke, but the sharpness seemed to have gone out of it once the words left her mouth.
“Oh, aye, much better. As I’m sure you’ll come to see. You’re a right one, you are, but you won’t always have your dog at your foot and your stick in your hand.”
“So you’re saying he is my dog.” She put a knot in the leash to make it shorter.
“I haven’t time to quibble. This whole town’s changing. You and that old lady you work for are just about done. You’ll see. Anyway I don’t want that dog. I’d want a better dog than that. One to bite your throat, that’s the one I’ll have.”
“I’m just for a bit of business with the woman inside, and I’ll be out again shortly. If you try anything I’ll see at once and I’ll have the constabulary on to you. So there’s no reason to you standing there.”
“I’ll stand where I damn well please.”
“Tommy, if he puts a hand on you, bite it off.” She gave the lad a sharp look. “He will too.” Then she went back into Fortunata’s cottage. The air smelled strange. The old lady was holding a small bottle containing a repulsive looking gray-green liquid w
hich she was staring at intently as she swirled it round. She was humming something to herself, but Katie couldn’t make out any words. “Is that it then?”
“You must drink it down, every drop. Don’t spill, or cough it up. But don’t drink it here. Drink it when you’ve a bed and a chamber pot near. And a sink would be good too. And when you’re not wearing such fine clothes as those. The first is the worst. I’ve warned you. It’ll be a fierce grip you’ll feel in the belly. That’s the little one letting go. Once that’s done you’ll feel like all of you is emptying out. Then you’ll know it’s done.” She placed the vial in Katie’s hand.
“Thank you,” said Katie. She was in a bit of a hurry to get back to Tommy Dog. “I’ll just be —“
“Now as to the coppers you were speaking of.”
“Oh aye.” Katie quickly emptied out her purse. There were three copper pennies and a brass dodkin.
Fortunata threw it to the floor. “Is that all you’ve got?”
“It’s all I’ve –“
“A girl like you, working in a good house. This is all you bring me? It’s an insult!”
“How do you know where I work?”
Fortunata leaned forward and said, “I know all about you.” It had an almost unearthly ring and set Katie’s knees trembling.
“I’m sorry. I’ll return tomorrow with more.”
“Oh you’re sorry are you.”
“I’m sorry I said. I’ll get more. Here, do you want this back?”
“Keep it. You with your head in the clouds. You think to show me disrespect. I have to take what you give me.”
“I wish it was more like a shop. You should put your prices – “
“Shut up! You think this is a pub? I’ll put up a bill of fare? We’re two people we are. We should know what we’re worth.”
“I’ll bring more tomorrow. I promise I will.”
There was a pause as the two women regarded one another. “Come again,” said the parrot.
“Yes, I will come again,” said Katie.
Fortunata resumed fanning herself. “See that you do. I want a shilling. A shilling, at least. But I’ll not put much weight on your promise. You’re a tramp in every sense. Go now.”
Katie took a quick look out the window to see Tommy was alright, but she didn’t see the front garden. Instead, there were rows of poplars and elms laid out with gravel paths between, and marble fountains spraying jets of crystal water into bright, sunlit air.
“Shall I take it tonight?”
“Take it soon, you mustn’t wait. Take it when you’re home. Then sit. In an hour, maybe less, you’ll feel its grip.”
“Thank you. I’m very grateful . . . I’m sorry. The others I talked to, them it was said that’s what to pay you. I didn’t know.” She backed out of the cottage, Madam Fortunata closing the door in her face.
The lad she’d been expecting was gone, and Tommy, as always, was happy to see her. She returned home. It was now late in the day and the lamp lighter was out, and to her relief there was no sign of any wanting to give her trouble. When she got to the mansion she climbed the stairs to her room, where she took down her hair and unbuttoned her blouse and took out the small vial Fortunata had given her. She opened it and held it to her nose. The smell was wretched, but her duties for the day were done and the night was her own. She swallowed the contents. Immediately she choked and had to stand to keep from vomiting the vile stuff up. She reached for the chamber pot and held her face over it, but she was able to keep it down. Just barely. She had a small, cracked mirror above the chest of drawers that held her clothes, and she looked at herself. The person looking back wasn’t the person she was accustomed to. More than just being tired, which she was, the person looking at her had no confidence in who she was. Nor did she seem to like being stared at.
At that moment there was a knock at the door. It was the maid Agnes. She’d been sent to ask if Katie could join Madam Lanchester in the garden.
“What is it concerning?” Katie asked. “I’m a bit indisposed, and it is my night off.”
“I don’t know. She’s all a-tremble like she gets. I think she just wants a word.”
“It’s the drink. Go back. Tell her I’m asleep. She’s already forgotten she sent you.”
“She saw your light come on just now. She’ll not like to be hearing that from me.” Agnes was that unhappy with her task, but she’d not return alone.
“Very well, if it’s just a word.” She did up her blouse. “Best make it quick.” Katie followed Agnes down the stairs and into the open air garden at the heart of the mansion. Madam Lanchester was seated at a round iron table at the center of the garden with a glass of brandy in front of her. The night was warm. There was just the hint of a breeze, and the stars twinkled brightly in the summer sky. Katie sat across from her mistress with Agnes standing behind her. There was a pause.
“Madam . . .? I’ve brought Katie. It was you that asked for her.”
Madam Lanchester seemed to wait till some scene in the reverie she was witnessing had finished, then turned her head, slowly becoming aware of Katie’s presence. “So you have. Thank you, you can go now.”
“Yes’m.” Agnes curtsied and left.
Katie spoke up. “I’m not meaning to be rude or any sort of bother, but it is my night off and I’ve matters to attend to. Is there something that you’re wanting?”
“There’s much that I’m wanting . . . ” She smiled. “Often I’ve thought of you as a daughter. Did you know? I never had a daughter . . .” She seemed to drift again, then caught herself and fixed Katie with a gaze. “Sometimes I feel there’s so much I have to say. But the words I know are inadequate.”
“Yes, it’s a problem that torments many of us.”
“I’ve had the feeling lately you’re unhappy. More than that really. I don’t know what’s given me that feeling . . . Actually, I do know . . . ”
“I’m fine, really I am –“
“You no longer smile in the mornings as once you did. Is there a worry, or some trouble that’s come into your life? I don’t mean to pry, and I apologize I just realized I’ve been extremely impolite. Would you like some brandy?”
Now there wasn’t much Katie would have liked more at that moment than a tot of brandy, but she’d already consumed goody Fortunata’s concoction and the woman had told her in an hour, maybe less, she’d feel the cramp. A clock was ticking desperately in her head as she attempted a computation of how much of that hour had passed, so she felt compelled to turn the offer down, since she just wanted to be done and out of the garden and back in her room. “I hope I’ve not been a laggard, or lacking in the service I perform. If I’d known it was smiles you wanted perhaps I’d have given you more. But a woman can’t be always smiling. They think them daft that are. I’m sorry. My words seem sharp.”
“No . . . You’re quite right. I shouldn’t pry . . . ”
There was another lengthy pause as Katie’s clock continued to tick.
“Is that it then?”
“I’ve been thinking of how it was when Master Pinehurst Lanchester was still alive. How active, and how . . . active it all was . . .” She looked vaguely into the distance over Katie’s shoulder, as if searching for a sight of the activity she remembered, and it struck Katie that here was a soul that had come unmoored, a woman as unattached to the ascertainable realities of daily existence as Katie felt she herself had become. She’d been now with two older women, both with some instinctive bond to another plane of existence, women she felt she’d insulted and deceived, while she herself was bound on a different course, one that had been determined for her by some inscrutable assemblage of circumstance. Her contacts with others were meaningless figments, scattered, filled with delay and deceit, necessary to get through in order to arrive at . . . what? At this moment she suffered an uncomfortable and aggravating contraction of her bowels. She tried to hold onto the situation, but realized she’d totally lost the thread of what Madam Lanchester was talking a
bout. She tried to pay attention. “There used to be parties,” she was saying. “People from the town, and from the country, military people, all sorts would come. There was music. There was dancing here, in this very garden, where we’re sitting now. Why did I let all that go when he died? I was a sudden widow, and tenacious in my grief. My heart held no location dear, and I allowed this place to crumble. It was –“
“Please, Madam, I told you I’ve matters to attend to. Is there any point at all to this converse, or can we talk of this some other time?”
Madam Lanchester gave her an austere look, and finished her brandy. “Good night, Katie Jean. I’m sorry I’ve kept you. Please don’t let me detain you any further from these other matters that are so pressing . . . I do think, however, perhaps we’ll revive this old custom of entertaining guests. It would be . . . Well, we’ll discuss this at a time more appropriate. Thank you again. You’ve been very patient. You can go.”
“I’m sorry, Madam.” She would have said more, but a relentless and difficult cramping came on her as she stood, and she felt a little wetness leaking down her leg. She walked back to the stairs to her room, holding herself as upright as possible and not allowing her feet to wobble. She was just able to get through the door to the stairwell before she collapsed in pain, falling face first onto the floor, moaning, and leaving a little puddle of urine. I’ll have that to clean up in the morning, she thought to herself.
“Katie, girl, what’s wrong?” Suddenly Tavish was at her side.
“Oh get lost, Tavish. This is not the night for you.”
“And when is it ever the night for me?”
The Devil's Workshop Page 6
