The Fool's Girl by Celia Rees Read Free Book Online

or rather he did not like ones that were not of his own devising. The card was Italian, of the exact same type he had seen passing under Feste’s restless fingers. What did it mean? How did it get into a note from Burbage? There’s more to those two . . . Forman’s words came back to him.
    Feste would be the new clown, but first he needed answers to questions of his own. He rose with the dawn just paling the windows. It was early, but there was no time to be wasted. He set off for the Hollander, going by way of the Globe, where the watchman let him in to the silent, deserted playhouse. He left a note for Burbage, explaining what he was about, and collected the part he needed. He took the scroll from the post where it had been set as a reminder to the now departed Moston, rolled the pages carefully and tucked them into his jerkin.
    The Hollander was hardly stirring. There was no one about, other than a pair of rough-looking fellows skulking back towards the river. They watched Will knock at the door. Perhaps they were waiting for the Hollander to open. South of the river there were always men looking for drink or women, whatever time of day.
    The door opened a crack and a woman peered out at him. ‘What do you want? None of the girls are up.’
    ‘I’m looking for Sir Toby and his wife Maria.’ Will had his foot in before she could close the door. ‘I’m told they lodge here.’
    ‘Might do.’ The woman opened the door further and looked him over. ‘But it’s powerful early.’ She yawned, her few remaining teeth brown stumps in blackened gums. ‘Who wants to know?’
    She was a large woman and stood barring his way, her beefy arms folded, her small eyes squeezed to slits in her coarse, fleshy face.
    ‘My name is Will Shakespeare. Tell Mistress Maria that I am here to talk to Violetta.’
    The woman withdrew without another word, leaving him outside. Will stood there staring at the warped boards of the old door with its rusted studs. She was gone a long time. He was beginning to wonder if she had even taken his message, or just left him outside to shiver in the damp coming up from the river, when Violetta opened the door.
    ‘Come in, come in.’ Violetta beckoned to him. ‘It’s cold.’ She pulled a thin shawl closer round her shoulders. ‘Johane shouldn’t have left you standing outside.’
    The big woman was collecting pots left from the night before. There was a man lying face down on one of the tables, arms stretched out. She wiped around him, wrung the cloth out on the floor and moved away.
    ‘Don’t mind her,’ Violetta said. ‘She barks worse than she bites.’
    ‘I’d expect that with those teeth,’ Will remarked, and Violetta laughed. She looked younger. She was just a girl. She shouldn’t be living here like this. The world had treated her harshly.
    ‘What brings you here so early?’ she asked as they began to mount the stairs.
    ‘I have a favour to ask from Master Feste. I think he knows what it might be.’
    Violetta smiled as she mounted the stairs ahead of him. She’d been surprised when Johane had said who was calling, but Feste was full of tricks. Once in a while, one of them worked.
    Maria was waiting for them at the top of the last flight of stairs.
    ‘Mistress Maria? I am Will Shakespeare.’
    ‘I know you, master,’ she smiled a welcome, smoothing her apron. ‘I’ve seen you and your players at the playhouse. Sir Toby was a great play-goer when he was well. He loved your work especially. He swore Sir John Falstaff was him to the life!’
    She rattled on, made nervous by his presence, the coincidence of his being here. She apologised for the meanness of their lodgings. ‘Do forgive us, we live in a poor way now.’ Sir Toby was a little better, thank you for asking. Feste’s playing seemed to soothe him. He had even taken a little sustenance. ‘Posset laced with sack. Dr Forman says no strong drink, but it is the only way to get it down him. Now, master, what can I