The Betrayal by Mary Hooper Read Free Book Online Page A

and sleet fell, making the three of usretreat into a little wooden cabin at the fore of the boat. I’d hoped to see lots of important buildings along the way, but most of the time it was just too wet and dreary for me to put my head out of the cabin.
    When, in the afternoon, the weather improved and I looked out, we’d almost reached London and everything seemed to appear at once: Lambeth Palace went by at the same time as another most wonderful church on the opposite bank; then came towering warehouses with strange and wonderful contraptions called cranes standing alongside landing stages; after that, spacious houses with gardens containing neatly clipped trees of box and bay all in rows, and here and there knot gardens like the queen’s privy garden at Richmond. There was a deal here to look at, for the river traffic increased greatly as we neared London and many other wherries, tilt boats, small craft with sails, ferry boats and barges appeared. Most of the barges carried coal, timber or waste, but one was beautiful and gilded (putting me in mind of the royal barge that Her Grace used to travel the river between palaces), and Sonny said this was sure to belong to one of the livery companies. Between all these craft, lines of icy-white swans glided about looking for food, seemingly unconscious of all the activity around them.
    We began to smell London at this stage: the same stench which swept upriver to Mortlake when the wind blew from that direction, but though Mistress Midge began complaining and holding her nose, to methis odious smell didn’t seem much to bear when you thought of all the other delights the city offered.
    Seeing other watermen, our two rowers began to name-call and trade insults and profanities with them, which surprised us very much. Sonny, red-faced and giggling fit to bust at their words, explained that watermen had reputations as the foulest-speaking and most blasphemous men in London, and indeed I heard that day many amazing and ingenious insults which I stored away until such time as I might have a use for them.
    We passed the riverside walls of Whitehall Palace and I could not contain my wonder at this mighty building, for it was beyond large, seeming to be the size of a small town. Going past more buildings, a prison, a church and some magnificent houses with lavish front gardens running down to the river, we at last reached Puddle Dock. There were several fellows waiting here with hand-carts for hire, and Mistress Midge selected one of these and asked the man to load all the baggage and boxes on to his cart and convey us to the house Dr Dee had rented, which we’d been told was on the corner of Milk Street and Green Lane.
    Mistress Midge is a slow walker, so it took us some time to get to this address. Here we received a welcome of sorts when a window in the house next door flew open and a bowl of dirty water was thrown out with the cry ‘Mind yerselves below!’
    ‘This is never it!’ said Mistress Midge, staring up at the house and brushing drops of water from her skirts.
    ‘This is the corner of Milk Street and Green Lane, lady,’ said the carter, and he began to take our things off the cart at some speed, for I suppose he wanted to get back to the wharf for another hiring.
    Mistress Midge and I stood outside, looking up at the house before us. It seemed to lean sideways, its window frames sloping this way and giving it a drunken appearance. Two windows were broken and had been repaired with brown paper, and it seemed that all the woodwork, frames and beams had once been painted green, but these were now blistered and peeling.
    ‘Lord above!’ Mistress Midge sighed. ‘The mistress won’t like this.’
    ‘No, indeed,’ I said.
    ‘I don’t like the look of it myself, for it seems a nasty, mean sort of place and ’tis probably running with rats.’ She suddenly seemed to notice that the carter was placing boxes all across the door, inhibiting our entry. ‘Not there, you