The Portuguese Affair Read Free

unsavoury flies in amber. I kept to the edges of the streets where the snow was less densely packed, but even here it was slippery, except in front of the better houses or shops, where servants or apprentices had been set to clear a space.
    Despite the cold, I was quite warmed from my brisk walking by the time I reached the Nuñez house, where Beatriz Nuñez insisted on inviting me in for hot ale and a sweet bun. When I could leave with politeness I made my way quickly around the corner to the stableyard of Walsingham’s house in Seething Lane, where – as I had hoped – I ran into the stable lad Harry.
    ‘Come to see Hector, have you, Master Alvarez?’ he asked, when he saw that I had turned, not to the backstairs which led up to Thomas Phelippes’s office and my old desk, but to the stable where I knew I would find my favourite amongst Walsingham’s horses.
    ‘Aye.’ I grinned at him. ‘There’s no hiding anything from you, Harry. How is Hector?’
    ‘Missing you, I daresay.’ He returned the smile, knowing full well how I felt about the ugly piebald who had served me well on several missions for Walsingham.
    Harry lifted the bolt for me on the tightly closed stable door, for the horses needed protection in this bleak weather, and followed me in as I went to Hector’s stall. He perched himself on a saddle stand, ready to gossip, as I had hoped he would. It would save me tackling Phelippes. As I caressed Hector’s neck and scratched him between the ears, Harry gave me all the latest news of Seething Lane – how the lads had been given a day off to go skating over in the frozen Kent marshes, how the washerwoman had given birth to twins and miraculously both had lived.
    ‘Moll says it’s because she’s so strong, from heaving pails of water and lye, and great buck-baskets full of wet linen,’ he said. ‘Her babies were bound to be strong.’
    ‘Boys or girls?’ I said, holding one of the apples on my palm so Hector could lift it softly with his velvet lips.
    ‘One of each. She’s called the boy Francis in honour of Sir Francis and called the girl Bess after the Queen.’
    He chattered on while I gave Hector the second apple and he blew affectionate juice into my ear.
    ‘And what of all the backstairs coming and going?’ I said casually. The stable lads never missed anything.
    ‘The usual. That Kit Marlowe was about here last week, him you don’t like.’
    I gave him a startled look. I hadn’t realised the lads had even noticed that. He gave me a cheeky grin.
    ‘Oh, never fear. I’ll say nothing to Master Phelippes or Sir Francis.’
    ‘I’d rather you did not. It is a private matter, nothing to do with Seething Lane. Marlowe has insulted me more than once.’
    ‘Arrogant bastard,’ Harry said dispassionately.
    I saw that I would need to ask him outright if I was to get the information I wanted.
    ‘Have you seen anything of that fellow who was in the Tower?’ I said, making my voice as casual as I could and keeping my back to him. ‘Poley, was he called? I wonder if he’d dare show his face around here again.’
    ‘Oh, him.’ Harry spat into the straw. ‘Aye, he was here, two-three weeks ago. Master Phelippes has sent him off to the Low Countries with despatches. He can’t do much harm there.’
    It seemed Harry shared my doubts of Poley, but it would be wiser to probe no further. Our talk turned to other matters, and when Harry went off to his supper, I bade Hector an affectionate farewell and left, dropping the bolt on the door as I went.
     
    Soon after the defeat of the Spanish fleet, a remark made by the Lord Admiral Howard had been discussed everywhere amongst our community. He had said that now was the time to invade Portugal and defeat the Spanish. All the older men amongst our Marrano people seemed carried away on a wave of expectation and excitement. At last the chance had come to return to their homeland, to restore Dom Antonio to the throne – Dom Antonio of the royal