I walked outside the town walls, along the orchard lane. Down here the walls stretched up high above me. I couldn’t imagine anyone breaking through, especially as they’d filled the ditch alongside the walls with holly and bramble. I had never wanted to live inside London’s walls. London was so busy, it wanted to burst out from behind the stones. For Mama though, I think the walls and gates and watchmen made her feel safer. Soon, we would have enough money for her to have her own house with her own door with as many bolts and latches as she wished.
I reached the end of the orchard and skirted around the bowling green. I spotted a clump of horsetail, took my knife out of the pitcher and bent towards them. A ladycow beetle climbed a stalk as if to greet me. I counted seven black spots like holes on its red shell. Was seven a lucky number? As I reached out my hand, its shell clicked open and its wings emerged. As it landed on my finger, my world went dark and I stopped breathing.
A SPLASH IN THE DARK
It was a sack that suffocated me this time, not water. The roughness rubbed against my skin. As I tried to breathe, my nose was filled with the smell of rotting hay. My hands were yanked behind my back and rope tightened around my wrists, the fibres cutting into my skin. They’d soon be speckled with my blood.
I felt the warmth of the man next to my face before I heard his voice. “Don’t try to run away. I know your mama is with Widow Primmer’s daughter. If you run, my friends will know what to do.”
His accent wasn’t like the townsfolk’s. It wasn’t from Southwark or even London, but I was sure I’d heard voices like his before. I tried to speak but my mouth was filled with sack and I thought I would choke.
“If you cry out,” the voice said, “we will go to the house and we will scatter the daughter’s blood and make sure your mama takes the blame.”
“Hurry up! We can’t stay here!” This was a different voice, a local one. A voice that I’d heard earlier. The voice that told me to meet him here to see treasure. Trust no one, Mama had said. TRUST NO ONE! Why had I forgotten?
“Have you ever seen a hanging?” the stranger’s voice said. I could smell his dank breath through the threads of the sack. “A hanging hurts. It hurts for a long, long time before you die because they want to show all the people watching that it hurts. If you’re lucky, a friend will pull on your legs to make it quicker. I don’t think your mother’s got friends. Will you step up to the gallows and help her die?”
“We have to go, Antonio! I told you, they don’t allow this in England.”
“So, you have to be quiet, Eve. You must not run. You must not shout, because there will be no mercy when the noose is around your mother’s neck.”
The shaking started in my shoulders and spread across my chest, out towards my arms and fingers and down to my toes. I tried to talk, to ask them what they wanted. Did they think I was going to steal their treasure? It didn’t matter! I didn’t want it. They didn’t have to tie me up and threaten Mama. I wanted to say all this but I was shaking too hard.
“Let’s get her to the house,” the fisherman said. “And don’t forget the price we agreed.” A finger poked my back. “You want to know where the treasure is? It’s not in the water. It’s right here. You’re going to get me a good price.”
That’s when I understood. I was human treasure. I was going to be sold.
“Let’s go!” The fisherman’s fingers pressed into the sack until they found my ear. I felt the fisherman’s cheek graze the sack.
“Listen carefully. Antonio’s told you what’s going to happen if you get it wrong. I’m going to take off this sack, right? You’re not going to scream or shout or anything like that. Then I’m going to untie your arms. You keep them as if they’re still tied. We’re going to walk out of here and we’re going to look like we’re all friends. You’re not going to look left nor right. You’re not going to smile or frown at no one. Do you understand me?”
My voice was crawling back. “Where are you taking me?”
The finger poked my back again, harder. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
The sack was whipped off my head and I took a deep breath. The heavy air dropped into my stomach so hard I almost vomited. I made myself look at the men. One was definitely the fisherman from earlier. He gave me a big grin. The other was older and wore a cracked leather jerkin over his doublet and a cap pulled low over his brow. A wooden scabbard hung around his neck. A handle poked out from it and, when he was sure I had seen it, he lifted it a little so I could see the metal of his dagger.
The fisherman held his hand to his throat and made a choking sound. “Don’t forget what Antonio said. You don’t want to see your mama dangling.”
Antonio told me to get up. I hadn’t realized that I was on the ground. I must have fallen into the grass when they’d pulled the sack over my head.
“Hurry up!” the fisherman hissed.
When I didn’t move quickly enough, he yanked me up. “I’m going to untie your hands. If you try and hit me, even if it doesn’t hurt…” He made the choking noise again. “You’re going to
