fact, I came top in my class!”
She and Tom were sitting in a small, square room above a shoe shop. The building was perched on the south bank of the river, so close that Tom could hear the water lapping against the brickwork. The single room contained a bed, two chairs, a table, a cupboard and a small fire that struggled to keep out the damp. However, the windows had glass. The roof didn’t leak. And, as Moll was quick to point out, it didn’t have rats.
She had warmed up some stew over the fire and served it on two thick slices of bread – she had no plates. Somewhere she had found a bottle of wine. Now the two of them were gazing at each other over the table.
“Do you have parents?” Tom asked.
“My father used to run the shoe shop downstairs,” Moll replied. “But he died of the plague. My mother too. I think I had a brother but he disappeared. Anyway, I’m on my own now.”
There was a long silence. Moll leant forward and put another log on the fire. The flames reached out tiredly to consume it.
“I suppose you want to know how I found you,” Moll said.
“Yes.”
“It was just luck, really. I was at Paul’s Walk. I go there. Everyone does. I saw you meet up with Grimly and I followed you.”
“But why? Why did you save me?”
“Because I wanted to kill you myself.”
Tom stared. Moll was still wearing her sword and he waited for her to draw it – but her hands didn’t move.
“You cost me plenty at the Red Lion,” she went on. “I’d never seen so many purses. I’d have had a dozen of them if it hadn’t been for you. And you could have got me hanged!”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s a bit late for that now.”
Tom gestured at the sword. “So why haven’t you?” he asked. “Killed me, I mean.”
Moll shrugged. “Because if you were stupid enough to go off with James Grimly you were probably too stupid to know what you were doing at the Red Lion. Anyway, don’t ask too many questions or I may change my mind.”
There was a brief silence.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” Tom said.
“That’s all right.” Moll took a sip of wine. “The question is – what do I do with you?”
“Can I stay here?”
“No!” Moll sighed. “All right. One night. Maybe two. But I don’t like boys. Particularly stupid boys who don’t know what they’re doing. What
are
you doing? I suppose you’re a runaway. Left your master, have you?”
“I didn’t run away. It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like? You might as well tell me. Not that I’m offering to help…”
So Tom told her his story; about his life with the Slopes and Gamaliel Ratsey; the arrival of William Hawkins and the ambush in the forest; Moll’s eyes narrowed when she heard Ratsey’s name and when Tom told her he had seen Ratsey at Paul’s Walk she shook her head doubtfully. “You know him?” Tom asked.
“I’ve heard of him. Everyone’s heard of Ratsey. But it’s unlike him to be down here in London. And I think it’s bad news for you.”
“That’s what I thought,” Tom agreed.
“He’s dangerous. As long as he’s here, you’re in danger. He’ll find you soon enough. And when he does…” Moll drew a finger across her throat.
“That’s very encouraging,” Tom muttered.
Moll thought for a moment. “Tell me more about Hawkins,” she said.
“I’ve told you everything I know.”
“That’s the bit of your story that doesn’t make sense.” Moll took out her pipe and lit it. “He was obviously a gentleman. Maybe even a member of the court. He asks questions about you and about your parents and then he snatches you and brings you back here.”
“He said I should go to Moorfield.”
“But why? What did he want with you? I mean, you’re a nobody. A nothing. A stable boy who barely knows one end of a horse from the other.”
“Thanks!”
“And why Moorfield?” Moll sighed and blew out a perfect smoke ring. “I suppose I could take you there.”
“You know where it
She and Tom were sitting in a small, square room above a shoe shop. The building was perched on the south bank of the river, so close that Tom could hear the water lapping against the brickwork. The single room contained a bed, two chairs, a table, a cupboard and a small fire that struggled to keep out the damp. However, the windows had glass. The roof didn’t leak. And, as Moll was quick to point out, it didn’t have rats.
She had warmed up some stew over the fire and served it on two thick slices of bread – she had no plates. Somewhere she had found a bottle of wine. Now the two of them were gazing at each other over the table.
“Do you have parents?” Tom asked.
“My father used to run the shoe shop downstairs,” Moll replied. “But he died of the plague. My mother too. I think I had a brother but he disappeared. Anyway, I’m on my own now.”
There was a long silence. Moll leant forward and put another log on the fire. The flames reached out tiredly to consume it.
“I suppose you want to know how I found you,” Moll said.
“Yes.”
“It was just luck, really. I was at Paul’s Walk. I go there. Everyone does. I saw you meet up with Grimly and I followed you.”
“But why? Why did you save me?”
“Because I wanted to kill you myself.”
Tom stared. Moll was still wearing her sword and he waited for her to draw it – but her hands didn’t move.
“You cost me plenty at the Red Lion,” she went on. “I’d never seen so many purses. I’d have had a dozen of them if it hadn’t been for you. And you could have got me hanged!”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s a bit late for that now.”
Tom gestured at the sword. “So why haven’t you?” he asked. “Killed me, I mean.”
Moll shrugged. “Because if you were stupid enough to go off with James Grimly you were probably too stupid to know what you were doing at the Red Lion. Anyway, don’t ask too many questions or I may change my mind.”
There was a brief silence.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” Tom said.
“That’s all right.” Moll took a sip of wine. “The question is – what do I do with you?”
“Can I stay here?”
“No!” Moll sighed. “All right. One night. Maybe two. But I don’t like boys. Particularly stupid boys who don’t know what they’re doing. What
are
you doing? I suppose you’re a runaway. Left your master, have you?”
“I didn’t run away. It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like? You might as well tell me. Not that I’m offering to help…”
So Tom told her his story; about his life with the Slopes and Gamaliel Ratsey; the arrival of William Hawkins and the ambush in the forest; Moll’s eyes narrowed when she heard Ratsey’s name and when Tom told her he had seen Ratsey at Paul’s Walk she shook her head doubtfully. “You know him?” Tom asked.
“I’ve heard of him. Everyone’s heard of Ratsey. But it’s unlike him to be down here in London. And I think it’s bad news for you.”
“That’s what I thought,” Tom agreed.
“He’s dangerous. As long as he’s here, you’re in danger. He’ll find you soon enough. And when he does…” Moll drew a finger across her throat.
“That’s very encouraging,” Tom muttered.
Moll thought for a moment. “Tell me more about Hawkins,” she said.
“I’ve told you everything I know.”
“That’s the bit of your story that doesn’t make sense.” Moll took out her pipe and lit it. “He was obviously a gentleman. Maybe even a member of the court. He asks questions about you and about your parents and then he snatches you and brings you back here.”
“He said I should go to Moorfield.”
“But why? What did he want with you? I mean, you’re a nobody. A nothing. A stable boy who barely knows one end of a horse from the other.”
“Thanks!”
“And why Moorfield?” Moll sighed and blew out a perfect smoke ring. “I suppose I could take you there.”
“You know where it
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