say nothing of calming the patients who fear they have a possessed man in their midst?'
'The Bedlam's own funds. By the way, do you have a doctor in attendance?'
'Ay. Dr Frith comes once a fortnight. He's a great one for his own potions, but they do no good. There was a herb - woman used to call, some of the patients liked her but Dr Frith sent her away. I don't appoint the doctors, that's for Warden Metwys.' 'Does a priest come?'
'The post is vacant since the old priest died. The warden hasn't got round to dealing with it.'
I looked into his fat red face, angry at the thought of the helpless mad being left to such as he and the lazy warden.
'I want a fire made up in that room,' I said.
'You go too far now, sir.' Shawms protested. 'Fires are extra, I won't pay for those out of the Bedlam funds. Warden Metwys would have my job.'
'Then I'll apply for the fees to be waived, not for the Council to pay them.'
Shawms glowered at me. 'You take liberties, crouchback.' 'Fewer than you. Well?' 'I'll order a fire set.'
'See you do.' I turned and left him without another word.
I returned to the parlour, and sat there, deep in thought. Adam Kite had shaken me; whatever ailed him so terribly, there was no question of applying to the court for a declaration he was compos mentis. My only hope was that Guy could help him in some way.
I looked up as the door opened. A white-haired woman was led in by a younger woman in a keeper's grey smock. I was surprised to see a woman keeper, but guessed they would be needed if the female patients were to preserve any modesty. The white-haired woman's head was cast down, and she walked with a leaden tread as the keeper guided her to a chair by the window. She slumped there, heavy and lifeless as a sack of cabbages. Seeing me, the woman keeper curtsied. She had an arresting face, too long - featured to be pretty but full of character and with keen, dark blue eyes. The hair round the sides of her white coif was dark brown. She looked to be somewhere in her thirties.
'I would like Cissy to sit here for a while, sir,' she said. 'Of course.'
'She's very mopish today and I want her out of her room. I've brought you some sewing, Cissy, you like making the smocks whole again.' It was strange to see her speak to the much older woman as though she were a child. Cissy raised dull eyes as the keeper took a sewing bag and a torn smock she had been carrying in the crook of her elbow. She laid the smock on Cissy's knees and placed a threaded needle in her plump hand. 'Come on, Cissy, you're a wonderful needlewoman. Show me what you can do.' Reluctantly, Cissy took the needle.
'She won't be any trouble.' The woman curtsied and left me with Cissy, who began sewing, never looking up at me. So not all the keepers are brutes, I thought. Shortly after, the Kites returned. I rose and told them of my conversation with Shawms.
'So Adam must stay here;' Minnie asked.
'This is the safest place for him, until he can be brought to his right mind.'
'Perhaps this is meant,' Daniel Kite said. He looked at me with sudden defiance. 'Sometimes God visits the most terrible trials on those he loves most, like Job, Reverend Meaphon says.'
'This may be a warning, to remind folk the end-time is com ing, that they must give up their sinful ways. Perhaps that is why Adam frightens folk, he reminds them that they too should pray for salvation.'
'No!' Minnie rounded on her husband. 'God would not try a poor believer so.'
'Who are you to say what God may do in His wisdom?' he snapped. 'If this is not God's work, it is Satan's, and he is possessed as some people say.'
They were both at breaking point, I saw. 'He is ill,' I said gently.
'You would say so,' Daniel Kite replied. 'You are not a right believer!' He looked between his wife and me, then turned and went out.
'Do not be angry with him, sir,' Minnie said. 'He casts around in desperation for answers. He loves our boy.'
'I understand, mistress. I promise I will do all I
'The Bedlam's own funds. By the way, do you have a doctor in attendance?'
'Ay. Dr Frith comes once a fortnight. He's a great one for his own potions, but they do no good. There was a herb - woman used to call, some of the patients liked her but Dr Frith sent her away. I don't appoint the doctors, that's for Warden Metwys.' 'Does a priest come?'
'The post is vacant since the old priest died. The warden hasn't got round to dealing with it.'
I looked into his fat red face, angry at the thought of the helpless mad being left to such as he and the lazy warden.
'I want a fire made up in that room,' I said.
'You go too far now, sir.' Shawms protested. 'Fires are extra, I won't pay for those out of the Bedlam funds. Warden Metwys would have my job.'
'Then I'll apply for the fees to be waived, not for the Council to pay them.'
Shawms glowered at me. 'You take liberties, crouchback.' 'Fewer than you. Well?' 'I'll order a fire set.'
'See you do.' I turned and left him without another word.
I returned to the parlour, and sat there, deep in thought. Adam Kite had shaken me; whatever ailed him so terribly, there was no question of applying to the court for a declaration he was compos mentis. My only hope was that Guy could help him in some way.
I looked up as the door opened. A white-haired woman was led in by a younger woman in a keeper's grey smock. I was surprised to see a woman keeper, but guessed they would be needed if the female patients were to preserve any modesty. The white-haired woman's head was cast down, and she walked with a leaden tread as the keeper guided her to a chair by the window. She slumped there, heavy and lifeless as a sack of cabbages. Seeing me, the woman keeper curtsied. She had an arresting face, too long - featured to be pretty but full of character and with keen, dark blue eyes. The hair round the sides of her white coif was dark brown. She looked to be somewhere in her thirties.
'I would like Cissy to sit here for a while, sir,' she said. 'Of course.'
'She's very mopish today and I want her out of her room. I've brought you some sewing, Cissy, you like making the smocks whole again.' It was strange to see her speak to the much older woman as though she were a child. Cissy raised dull eyes as the keeper took a sewing bag and a torn smock she had been carrying in the crook of her elbow. She laid the smock on Cissy's knees and placed a threaded needle in her plump hand. 'Come on, Cissy, you're a wonderful needlewoman. Show me what you can do.' Reluctantly, Cissy took the needle.
'She won't be any trouble.' The woman curtsied and left me with Cissy, who began sewing, never looking up at me. So not all the keepers are brutes, I thought. Shortly after, the Kites returned. I rose and told them of my conversation with Shawms.
'So Adam must stay here;' Minnie asked.
'This is the safest place for him, until he can be brought to his right mind.'
'Perhaps this is meant,' Daniel Kite said. He looked at me with sudden defiance. 'Sometimes God visits the most terrible trials on those he loves most, like Job, Reverend Meaphon says.'
'This may be a warning, to remind folk the end-time is com ing, that they must give up their sinful ways. Perhaps that is why Adam frightens folk, he reminds them that they too should pray for salvation.'
'No!' Minnie rounded on her husband. 'God would not try a poor believer so.'
'Who are you to say what God may do in His wisdom?' he snapped. 'If this is not God's work, it is Satan's, and he is possessed as some people say.'
They were both at breaking point, I saw. 'He is ill,' I said gently.
'You would say so,' Daniel Kite replied. 'You are not a right believer!' He looked between his wife and me, then turned and went out.
'Do not be angry with him, sir,' Minnie said. 'He casts around in desperation for answers. He loves our boy.'
'I understand, mistress. I promise I will do all I
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