Salvation Read Free

want to marry into such a family for my sake? Our house is like a bear pit sometimes.’
    But she already knew the answer. For her he would have joyfully embraced even Nero and Messalina as in-laws.
    He looked again at Anne Bailey. Above her pristine ruff, her face was coated with too much white lead and rouge and her eyes were sharp. It was hard to feel sorry for her, particularly when she had made it abundantly clear he was no longer welcome in her house.
    By the time the oxen were peacefully grazing and he returned to the fair, the feast was about to begin. A small band of musicians played on trumpets and sackbuts as a roasted suckling pig was carried to the top table, apples stuffed between its gaping jaws and its crisp, brown skin shining from a basting of honey and butter. The smell of rich meat made Tom’s stomach groan with hunger. He had not been able to afford any extra food all week and seven days of living on Mary’s porridge and William Kemp’s meagre midday allowance of bread and cheese certainly sharpened the appetite. He found a place beside Kemp’s groom, Adam, and helped himself to a large piece of pie filled with mutton, garlic and leeks. It tasted like heaven.
    There was no shade at the table and the sun beat down on his head. He drank a cup of ale and then another. Adam grinned tipsily at him and threw an arm around his neck.
    ‘Yurr a goo’ fellow, Tom,’ he mumbled through a mouthful of pickled herring. His breath could have felled a horse but Tom returned a smile.
    ‘How do, Adam.’
    Adam swallowed his herring, wiped his greasy lips with his sleeve, and belched up a gust of vinegar and fish that made Tom gag.
    ‘Bad.’
    ‘Why’s that?’
    ‘You gotta woman, Tom? I ain’t gotta woman.’ He stopped and blinked then belched again, his mouth wide, showing raw gums and brown, uneven teeth.
    ‘Maybe you should clean those teeth of yours for a start.’
    ‘Doan ’old with all that poking about with twigs, ’gainst nature.’
    ‘Only trying to help.’
    ‘E’en tha’ turd can get one.’ Adam scowled towards where Ralph sat with a buxom fair-haired girl on his knee. Around them, people whooped with laughter as he poured ale into her open mouth, spilling some of it down her neck then licking it off while she squealed with delight. With a stab of alarm, Tom recognised Bess, Meg’s maid. He’d never noticed her and Ralph together before.
    ‘How long’s that been going on?’
    Adam shrugged and winked. ‘Long enough for him to get wha’ ’e’s after, I’d say.’
    The eating and drinking lasted for several hours before the trumpets rang out once more. The party of notables on the dais stood up. Tom saw Meg put her hand on Edward Stuckton’s arm before he led her down the staircase. He bent to murmur something in her ear and she smiled. As she touched the pearls at her throat, Tom felt a violent stab of jealousy. He could not afford expensive trinkets for her. What were they talking of? Was she really so unhappy with Stuckton?
    Adam blundered to his feet. ‘Need a piss,’ he hiccupped.
    Guilt overcame Tom. How could he doubt Meg? He had so little to offer and she so much to lose, yet she risked it all to snatch their precious hours together.
    Wearily, he pointed Adam towards the trees. As he watched the groom go, he wondered whether it would be better to be like him and have no one rather than always be halfway between happiness and despair. A fog of misery engulfed him. Nothing had turned out as it should. He was meant to have been Meg’s husband, son to a prosperous guildsman, not a paltry clerk snatching hole-in-the-corner kisses.
    A small band of carpenters was already dismantling the dais. They soon had the wooden struts and planks repositioned to create a low, makeshift stage. Around two-thirds of its perimeter, they hammered long poles into the ground and hung lanterns from them, ready to be lit at dusk.
    Tom’s hands were clammy. Ever since he had heard that a visit from