We scrambled out on to Puddle Dock and for a little while afterwards I was still swaying, though I could have just been dizzy with excitement. We joined the noisy crowds heading up the narrow streets towards the fair. We heard it before we saw it. A trumpet, street criers and the shouts of laughter became louder as we drew nearer. Soon I could smell the fair too, wafts of roasting meat curling their way over us. I imagined whole pigs and lambs turning on spits, sausages and hams and all the fruit that Mama had told me about. Apricots and oranges – fruit I never even dreamed that I’d taste.
Boom! Boom! Boom! As we came on to Smithfield, a girl marched towards us banging a drum. She was about the same age as me, a little taller, with a cloud of light-brown hair that her bonnet couldn’t hold in. She was wearing a white gown with blue stars sewn on to the skirt, and every time the drumstick thumped down, her bonnet gave a little shake, threatening to fly free. She stopped in front of us, drumstick in the air, and gave Mama a little bow.
“Good mistress,” said the girl. “Do you care to know the secret to your fortune? Do you wish to know how the stars fall for you and your daughter? Do your humours feel out of balance on this fine, beautiful day?”
Before Mama could reply, the girl leaned towards us, like she was telling us a secret.
“My brother, Griffin, is the best soothsayer in the whole fair. He learned from the Queen’s own favourite, the great John Dee himself. You will find us next to the fire-eater.”
I tugged Mama’s hand. “Can we have our stars read?”
Mama smiled. “Be patient, Eve! There are so many things to see.”
She was right. Over in one corner, the sharps had set up tables for games of shove ha’penny and dice, offering a heavy purse to anyone who could beat them. I laughed. I recognized two of the rogues from the ale houses in Southwark. The gamblers who didn’t lose their money at the tables would lose it to the pickpockets watching carefully nearby.
An acrobat had slung a rope between two poles, higher than our heads. He stood on it, one foot stretched out, carefully finding its place before the other foot lifted, all while carrying a shrieking woman on his back. We wriggled our way through the shouting crowd. In a clearing, two men were dodging and smashing sticks together, their faces shiny with sweat. One had a bleeding cut above his eyebrow. I wanted to stay and watch, but Mama pulled me away.
“Are you hungry?” she asked me.
I was always hungry! She knew that. She showed me a handful of coins.
“I’ve been saving these for this very day!”
We were richer than I expected. I wondered if Mama had carefully put aside a little money on all the years that it had been raining too hard for us to come. We walked past trays of fat, dark figs and pale-green plums, cauldrons of pottage and tables groaning with cheeses, tubs of pickled herrings and pies. But I knew what I wanted and I led Mama back to the hog roast, watching carefully as the stallholder carved the slices for us. We found a patch of grass and settled down to enjoy our food. As I sunk my teeth into the soft, smoky meat, I wondered what it would be like to eat this every day. It wouldn’t have to be pork. Mutton would do, or capons roasted with herbs or… I sighed. It would never happen. Maybe that was a good thing because if it did, I wouldn’t appreciate it as much as I was enjoying this now.
Afterwards, we walked around again. I saw the drummer girl. She raised her eyebrows at us, but Mama shook her head. She’d decided it was time to go. The sky to the east was starting to darken, and Mistress Horstead would be expecting us. There was also too much ale being swilled and that always leads to fights. We wanted to be out of the way before the brawling started. We wormed our way through the crowds, back towards the edges of the fair, and then a stall caught my eye. The woman behind it had a pale, lined face and a wide, friendly smile that made her eyes crinkle up.
On the table in front of her were row after row of poppets. Some looked floppy, made from rags and wool, with faces stitched from dark thread. Mama had made me one like that when I was little, but I had lost it on our travels. Others were wooden with carved faces and gowns made from rich fabrics. The woman held up one of the smaller poppets and beckoned me. Before Mama could grab me, I ran towards it.
“Do you like it?” the woman asked.
I reached out to touch it, but she shook her head. It had a wooden head, the colour of my skin. Its body was softer, made from fabric, dressed in a blue gown topped with a crisp white apron. Dark hair poked out from beneath its bonnet.
“It will bring you luck,” the woman said.
“We need luck, don’t we, Mama?” I said.
“Yes.” Mama laughed quietly. “We do, but I’m not sure a poppet is the way to find it. You are far too old for toys, Eve.”
The lady nodded, like she understood. “It’s not just a poppet. It’s a lucky poppet, so lucky I can sell it cheap. Just three halfpence. That’s all it costs to buy you luck.”
Mama shook her head. “I could
