The Last Protector by Andrew Taylor

The Last Protector by Andrew Taylor

Author:Andrew Taylor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-02-18T17:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER NINE

The Good Old Days

Thursday, 19 – Easter Monday, 23 March 1668

FERRUS STINKS.

Master sent him into the old, old sewer. The shit and the piss pours in. For years and years and years. And everything else they put down their privies.

You go down there, Master says, scour it well or I throw you in the river. Make you drown.

Ferrus here before in this old sewer. Long long ago, in that other time.

He digs and wriggles. Shovels and crawls. Scrapes and scratches. Ratty runs over his feet, over his arm.

The roof down. Ferrus stuck. Master pulls him free.

Poxy wretch, says Master. Clear that tomorrow, or I bury you there for the rats to have for dinner.

Master puts Ferrus under the pump. Water makes him shiver. Ferrus squeals.

Ferrus weeps cold tears.

Pheebs watched Mistress Hakesby descending the last flight of stairs and admired the tantalizing glimpses of ankle and calf. Wasted on a dotard like her husband. Shocking. The thought of that trembling old man pawing at those pert bubbies made him feel ill. It was against nature.

‘Pheebs!’ she snapped, as she reached the hallway. ‘A word if you please.’

He bowed, rubbing his hands together. ‘How may I serve you, mistress?’

‘Who brought that letter you sent up?’

She was in a passion, he reckoned, which had brought a fetching colour to her cheeks. ‘The one that came this morning?’

‘Of course. What else could I mean?’

Her tone angered him. He cuffed the boy, venting a little of his irritation, driving him back to the shadows by the stairs. He was tempted to lie to her. The fat man had paid him well when he gave Pheebs the letter on the understanding that he would say a strange servant had brought it. The trouble was, the boy had been there as an unwanted witness, and also the boy knew that the fat man and Pheebs had encountered each other on more than one occasion over the last few weeks, to their mutual profit. The boy was the next best thing to an idiot, which was useful in one way. But it also meant that he could not be trusted to keep his mouth shut.

‘He was a big fellow, mistress.’ Pheebs sketched a great belly in front of him. ‘I seen him about in the street a few times. Shall I send the lad out to look for him?’

‘No.’

She wheeled around and ran up the stairs, giving him another glimpse of ankle and calf, though she was gone so quickly it was almost as if he had imagined it.

Hakesby was in his closet, with the lid of his chest thrown open. He glanced wild-eyed over his shoulder at Cat. This morning’s letter had thrown him into a panic.

‘Where are they?’ he demanded. ‘Have you hidden them somewhere?’

‘Hidden what, sir?’

‘The Cockpit plans. You’re always taking my things away and hiding them somewhere. I believe you do it to mock me.’

‘You left the plans upstairs in the Drawing Office,’ she said. ‘Shall I fetch them?’

‘What o’clock is it? We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.



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