‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ she says crossly to her servants, and waits until they are out of earshot.
‘I told you. I called on the sisters Fitzgerald this evening … to ask them to be the boy’s godparents. What is it? What is wrong?’
Finn sits too still. Always a fidgety sort of man there is something strange about his restraint.
‘Mockett has closed his tunnel to us.’
‘What?’
‘He says it is too dangerous. There are rumours. The river police say they are coming for the water rats who rob and steal from the shipping on the river, and they will have us one day for dinner.’
‘Does Mockett mean to forfeit his handsome income then?’
‘He does indeed.’
‘Damn him. But, it is timely, Finn.’
‘See to that baby,’ he says. ‘I do not want to fucking hear that all night.’
‘I am seeing to it.’
‘There is something else. Did you mention this Fitzgerald godparent malarkey to Mockett’s wife?’
Clovis considers her answer.
‘I might have. In passing. What has it to do with anything?’
He does not raise his voice. He shows no sign of agitation. He responds in a tone of cold disregard.
‘Nora Mockett has her husband’s ear. I am certain she persuaded him to act sooner on closing off the tunnel. He gives us no time to set up elsewhere. We are out on our arses. Your wish to hurt her has hurt us all. It was not necessary. You are fucking insatiable – that’s what you are.’
The baby strains its lungs now, aggravating the couple at the foot of the stairs. Willa appears, rocking him gently, with fear firmly settled on her face.
‘Mistress, I changed him, and I tried to feed him, but he won’t take it. Something is wrong. His head is mighty warm.’
‘Think on your feet, damn you! Put a cool cloth on his forehead and take that blanket off him.’
‘But I’m not sure …’
‘Just do it. Can you not see I am occupied?’ she shouts over the wailing child.
‘Yes, mistress.’ Willa hurries away.
Clovis turns again to Finn, ‘So, I am to blame for the tunnel closing because Nora Mockett cannot bear a child? I am to blame because I did not choose them to be godparents? You are foolish. There would have been another reason, another excuse. We cannot break our agreement with Iceland. If we are caught it will ruin everything.’
Now it is Jonesy who interrupts, also bearing a look of alarm.
‘Baby not well. Very hot. Umm, waterings, pers, persp, perspires.’
Clovis turns on him, fuming. Jonesy’s tunic is damp against his chest where he has been holding the baby.
‘For Christ’s sake! Bring him to me.’
Jonesy returns with Willa who is drenched as well. She holds the baby out to Clovis. Rafe drips to form a pool of moisture on the floor. He sweats from every pore and his face is now as red as his hair. He looks around wildly, not knowing from what he suffers, only that he does. His tiny stomach and ribs heave up and down as he tries to catch air through the sobs.
Clovis takes him from Willa.
‘Hush. Hush. What is it, you little worry …’ Hardly affectionate, but she shows the first signs of concern.
His hair sticks to his head in small, damp clumps. He soaks Clovis in a fast fury.
‘We must go to Mockett,’ Clovis says.
‘It’s after ten. He’s shut,’ Finn reminds her.
‘What do I care of that? We are going. Here, take him while I make ready.’ She hands the baby over to Finn.
‘Willa, I need a fresh blanket. Jonesy, a lantern. Now!’ she orders.
‘Bloody hell! He’s like a water pump. My shirt is sopping already. Good Christ! Hurry, Clovis.’
Nora and Owen Mockett separate their sweaty bodies at the sound of ceaseless pounding on the door downstairs. He pulls on his britches, thoroughly annoyed at the interruption of a streak of good sex his wife has so willingly and hungrily bestowed. He has no clue if Nora’s sudden voraciousness has anything to do with the closure of the tunnel, and he does not care two coins. She is completely naked, too. None of this lifting of the gown, either. Damnation! Who disturbs them? He opens the shutter a slice and silently spews further curses.
‘Who is it, love?’ says Nora.
‘The Fowlers, the both of them. I must go down.’ He does not tell her the baby is in Mrs Fowler’s arms, though she will know soon enough.
Not wishing to spoil the mood of their bed, Nora remains silent. She turns on her side and watches him pull on his shirt, but when he leaves their bedroom, her jaw tightens and she lies back waiting to learn why that venomous woman would keep her husband from their bed at such an hour.
Nora learns instantly when the door rattles open that it is the baby who needs attention. She will not go down. No. She will not. No matter what. Why should she help? But the child, he is innocent. Oh bother! She sighs. She grabs her wrapping gown that drapes the chair and opens the door a crack to better hear the news.
‘He has a fever.’ Mockett takes the baby from Mrs Fowler.
‘I know that!’ Clovis snaps. ‘What is to be done about it?’
The short walk to the Commercial Road had given Clovis time enough to clear her head. She must keep this baby alive, especially now that the tunnel is closed to them. Finn will need time to reorganize. Iceland must continue to pay. Thoughts of lost income race through her head. She imagines the coins falling away from her.
‘I have never witnessed such profuse perspiring. It cannot be tooth fever … the heat is too severe. When did it begin?’ Soaked through with the baby’s sweat, Mockett rolls up his sleeves and gently places him on the countertop.
‘When?’ Clovis demands from Jonesy.
Uncomfortably the centre of attention, Jonesy cannot think straight.
‘After we leave the, sorry no name … the Mrs Sisters … when walking
