“Because you’re sleeping in the stable.”
“Gina!” A man’s voice came from the door to the inn. “Where are you?”
“That’s my brother. He’s like a dragon when he’s hungry.” She turned her head, shouting, “Just coming!”
“Your name’s Gina,” I said.
“No. It’s Elizabeth, like Elizabeth Regina. But everybody’s Elizabeth, so I’m Gina. What’s your name?”
“Eve.”
Gina looked me up and down, thoughtfully. “Do you have a skill, Eve?”
“A skill?”
“Can you juggle, sing, walk the tightrope?”
“No.”
“Ah,” she said. “That’s a pity. I thought perhaps we could be of help to each other.”
“Gina!” Griffin really did sound like he was ready to breathe fire.
“Sorry I can’t help you.” Gina moved away.
“Mama has a skill,” I said quickly. “She can dive into the deepest water and survive.”
“Is your mother a fish?” Gina clapped her hands. “Because if she is, that would make you a mermaid.” She looked down at my legs. “We could always make you a fish tail. We could charge half a penny to see you and—”
I laughed. “I’m not a mermaid. I fell into the River Thames and almost drowned. Mama dived in to save me.”
“You fell into the Thames? And you lived?”
“Yes, right by the bridge. At high tide.”
Her eyes widened. She pinched my cart-bruised arm and I shrieked.
“No, you’re definitely not a ghost,” she said. “Not many people come out alive from there. That is a skill indeed. Where are you headed?”
“Towards Southampton. Well, we were before the wicked dyer’s son rode off with all our money.” My mouth carried on moving even though my brain wanted to hold it back. “We’ve been told there’s treasure in the waters nearby. Mama’s going to dive in and find it.”
“Your mama’s diving for treasure in Southampton.” Gina said it like it was an everyday matter. “How does your mama know where to look?”
I opened my mouth again and glanced towards the window. The man had gone.
“It’s probably just a sailors’ tale,” I said.
“But you’re still going down there?”
“We have to keep moving around all the time. We thought it would make things better for us. We would do anything to have our own home.”
“If the wicked dyer’s son left you, how will you get there now?”
“Gina!” Griffin really did roar.
She gave me a wide smile. “If I don’t go, Griffin will come looking for me. You really don’t want to meet him, the mood he’s in.”
She ran off towards the inn. I stayed by the window, watching as Gina and Griffin settled themselves at a table. Griffin had a thin face and reminded me of the cows we’d seen being driven over the bridge. Though something about him made me think that he wouldn’t be the one who ended up at market. They turned to look at me, then leaned in close to talk.
I made my way back to the hayloft. The horse looked up from the trough as if it was wondering why I was disturbing its peace. I climbed up and sat next to Mama. She was curled up tight, sleeping. The moon had shifted so it cut across half her face. I stroked flecks of straw out of her hair.
“We are adventurers, Mama. We are adventurers.”
THE BAG OF BEADS
“We’ll take you to Southampton.” Gina’s head poked through the hatch to the hayloft. “We have to leave soon, though.”
The head disappeared and it was replaced by a tray held high.
“Take it! Before I drop it all!”
Gina had brought two pies, still warm by the smell of them, and a flagon of… I flicked up the lid. “Is that milk?”
“Fresh from the cow,” she replied.
I took the tray and Gina followed it into the loft.
Mama was sitting up, but she was nowhere near the surface yet. She’d only just pushed off from the bottom. Gina went and crouched next to her.
“Is she sick?”
I nodded.
“I’ll fetch Griffin.”
“No, please—” But she was gone and back a few moments later with her brother. He nodded to me. A good meal and a warm bed for the night hadn’t made him any happier.
“Your mother is melancholic. Her humours are off balance,” he said. “She needs warmth and water to redress her balance and, perhaps, an infusion of hellebore. We have some with us.”
“Are you an apothecary?” I asked.
Gina laughed. “We can fix your humours and grind your knifes. We can even throw six apples in the air and catch them one by one with our eyes closed.”
There was another little laugh. It had come from Mama, though her head was still bowed.
Gina broke off a chunk of pie and put it in Mama’s hand and raised Mama’s hand to her mouth. I saw Mama take a little bite.
“See, she’s getting better already,” Gina said. “Are we ready to leave, Griffin?”
“Yes. Straight away.”
It was hard to manoeuvre Mama down from the hayloft. Her legs flopped around and she almost kicked Griffin in the head. I heard him swear under his breath. Finally, we were outside. They were travelling by horse and cart too. Their cart was packed with chests and packages.
“Some of it’s ours,” Gina said. “But we also carry things between towns for other people.”
We settled Mama in the back and covered her in blankets. Her head rested on a soft bag that I was sure must have been full of lavender. Griffin rode Anastasia, an old mottled horse. I gripped the seat next to Gina.
We spent one more night on the road as we didn’t want to arrive at Southampton after curfew. Also, Anastasia wasn’t impressed with her heavier load and was walking like her hooves were made of glass. We lodged with one of Gina and Griffin’s cousins in Basing, a mile off the highway. The road was so bumpy, I thought the cart was going to tip right over.
Gina’s cousin gave Mama and me a curious look until Gina told them about our mission and then she couldn’t be more friendly. Griffin and the cousin’s husband went out into the dark and came back shortly after with three rabbits. I
