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Authors: Paul Lawrence
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now?’
‘My estate was delivered unto my cousin that vowed to care for me, so they say. But he died soon after and his wife sold it. The parish wouldn’t keep me, so I came here.’
‘What do you do?’
‘There’s a poor house where I shelter if I have to.’ He spoke in a staccato. Despite his calm demeanour I think hewas trying not to weep. I found myself wondering how often he had the opportunity to talk to people nowadays, before it suddenly occurred to me that this had nothing at all to do with the murder.
‘You were seen running from Bride’s, Joyce. Yet you say you didn’t kill my cousin?’
‘Will you give me money if I tell you what happened?’ he asked, chewing at the bread. I blinked and looked at Dowling. He looked to the heavens. It was hard to credit.
‘Joyce.’ I made sure I had his attention. ‘They will hang you for her murder, cut you down, then slice open your belly and burn your guts in front of your face. You may wish you had died at Marston Moor, but there are far better ways to die than what lies in wait for you.’
Joyce nodded with blanched face. Pulling himself upright and leaning forward, he suddenly appeared anxious to speak. ‘I was stood by myself, outside the Playhouse. A good enough place to beggar.’ The last word he said sadly. ‘It was very cold. I had some coins from those that went in. Now I was waiting for them all to come out. While I was waiting I saw this woman on her own walking towards the Playhouse. I made my way over the street towards her. She looked like the sort that would give me something. She wasn’t a lady, but she wasn’t a whore, nor a trader neither. Anyway, as I got closer to her she stopped. Not because of me, she hadn’t noticed me, but I think she was looking for someone, like she had come to meet someone. I took care not to frighten her. Anyway – she gave me a coin. I went back over the street. Then I saw it was a sixpence she gave me, not a penny. She was kind. So I looked back to see if she was still there.’
‘Was she?’
‘Aye. Staring up Drury Lane. Anyway, then the crowds started coming out. Everyone dived in, the pedlars and hawkers. There was some pushing and likewise as folks fought for sedans and coaches. Soon enough they was all gone, but she was still there, still looking down Drury Lane. Then this man came out the theatre, a big man. He had about him a thick black cloak down to the ground. I couldn’t see his face – it was hidden beneath the brim of his hat and he had some sort of scarf over his chin. He came up to her from behind, made her jump. She recovered, though, and put a hand on his sleeve like she knew him. He pulled down the scarf so he could talk to her, but I still couldn’t see his face – the light was poor. They talked for a bit, and she seemed to get anxious, worried. He was holding her arm and she didn’t seem to like it. So then they moved off, towards Drury Lane. She walked with her head bowed, fussing with the knot of her headscarf. They turned right at Drury Lane towards the City and I followed them to Bridget’s. They went inside.’
‘Did you follow?’
‘In time. I stayed where I was for a while. When they didn’t come out I thought I’d go and have a look, make sure she was alright. The door was open so I went in. Inside it was dark and cold. I crouched at the back. I could just see them sitting down at the front. They was talking it looked like, though all I could hear was her weeping. He was doing most of the talking, judging by the way his head went up and down. Then I sneezed, didn’t I?’
‘He heard you?’
‘I didn’t wait to see. I dropped down on my hands and knees and lay down on the floor. I was frightened, God’s truth. I lay there for ages. I thought about going out, but there wasdistance between the pew where I was lying and the door and I thought he might be there waiting. I made myself look up eventually, but it had got even darker then and I couldn’t see
‘My estate was delivered unto my cousin that vowed to care for me, so they say. But he died soon after and his wife sold it. The parish wouldn’t keep me, so I came here.’
‘What do you do?’
‘There’s a poor house where I shelter if I have to.’ He spoke in a staccato. Despite his calm demeanour I think hewas trying not to weep. I found myself wondering how often he had the opportunity to talk to people nowadays, before it suddenly occurred to me that this had nothing at all to do with the murder.
‘You were seen running from Bride’s, Joyce. Yet you say you didn’t kill my cousin?’
‘Will you give me money if I tell you what happened?’ he asked, chewing at the bread. I blinked and looked at Dowling. He looked to the heavens. It was hard to credit.
‘Joyce.’ I made sure I had his attention. ‘They will hang you for her murder, cut you down, then slice open your belly and burn your guts in front of your face. You may wish you had died at Marston Moor, but there are far better ways to die than what lies in wait for you.’
Joyce nodded with blanched face. Pulling himself upright and leaning forward, he suddenly appeared anxious to speak. ‘I was stood by myself, outside the Playhouse. A good enough place to beggar.’ The last word he said sadly. ‘It was very cold. I had some coins from those that went in. Now I was waiting for them all to come out. While I was waiting I saw this woman on her own walking towards the Playhouse. I made my way over the street towards her. She looked like the sort that would give me something. She wasn’t a lady, but she wasn’t a whore, nor a trader neither. Anyway, as I got closer to her she stopped. Not because of me, she hadn’t noticed me, but I think she was looking for someone, like she had come to meet someone. I took care not to frighten her. Anyway – she gave me a coin. I went back over the street. Then I saw it was a sixpence she gave me, not a penny. She was kind. So I looked back to see if she was still there.’
‘Was she?’
‘Aye. Staring up Drury Lane. Anyway, then the crowds started coming out. Everyone dived in, the pedlars and hawkers. There was some pushing and likewise as folks fought for sedans and coaches. Soon enough they was all gone, but she was still there, still looking down Drury Lane. Then this man came out the theatre, a big man. He had about him a thick black cloak down to the ground. I couldn’t see his face – it was hidden beneath the brim of his hat and he had some sort of scarf over his chin. He came up to her from behind, made her jump. She recovered, though, and put a hand on his sleeve like she knew him. He pulled down the scarf so he could talk to her, but I still couldn’t see his face – the light was poor. They talked for a bit, and she seemed to get anxious, worried. He was holding her arm and she didn’t seem to like it. So then they moved off, towards Drury Lane. She walked with her head bowed, fussing with the knot of her headscarf. They turned right at Drury Lane towards the City and I followed them to Bridget’s. They went inside.’
‘Did you follow?’
‘In time. I stayed where I was for a while. When they didn’t come out I thought I’d go and have a look, make sure she was alright. The door was open so I went in. Inside it was dark and cold. I crouched at the back. I could just see them sitting down at the front. They was talking it looked like, though all I could hear was her weeping. He was doing most of the talking, judging by the way his head went up and down. Then I sneezed, didn’t I?’
‘He heard you?’
‘I didn’t wait to see. I dropped down on my hands and knees and lay down on the floor. I was frightened, God’s truth. I lay there for ages. I thought about going out, but there wasdistance between the pew where I was lying and the door and I thought he might be there waiting. I made myself look up eventually, but it had got even darker then and I couldn’t see
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