front and bravery, ‘it looks good for you. Right up to the end, it looks good.’
‘Right up to anyone’s end is good!’ I laughed. ‘Nobody wants to end, whether their life were good or ill.’
‘I’ve seen plenty that wanted to go before time took ’em. They come to me for the wherewithal.’
‘Well, anyway.’ I swigged the last of the tea and jumped off the bench. ‘You think, Annie, how the thing might be accomplished, and I will be your white rabbit. I will come back tomorrow.’
She looked down at me. Everyone had grown into giants around me, all the orphans I used to be equal with. Here she was, sitting, and me standing, and she must still lower her eyes, when I used to poke her looking almost straight into them.
‘There might be many you can promise this to,’ I said. ‘You might make your fortune sending people to the place of their dreams. Come, Annie’—I stepped towards her, pulling out my last card, which with women is always His Majesty of Hearts—‘for the sake of times at St Onion’s. Poor-house rubbish together, we were. ’Tis a binding that never unravels.’
‘There are dangers, Dought. You cannot imagine. I am not sure of them all myself.’
‘Mebbe not. Get it wrong with me, that you may right it with others, and become a rich woman in a house on the hill.’
Still she regarded me, all uncertainty. If I’d looked more pleading, my eyes would have fell right out my head onto the dirt there.
‘Leave me think,’ she said. ‘You nuisance, coming here with your Onion’s-talk. Why should I want to recall all that?’
‘It’s what we’re made on, Annie. We cannot deny.’
‘Go on.’
‘I’ll go on.’ I patted her grey-clothed knee. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow.’
‘Next day. I’ve a batch to mix tomorrow and don’t want disturbing.’ She said this to the forest wall over my head.
‘Very well,’ I said, and I was gone, leaving her thoughts, I was sure, bubbling like broth over a cookfire.
‘There was a woman said I ought never to do this,’ Annie said. ‘I met her at High Oaks Cross when I were deeper in the telling game. Come all the way from Rockerly, she did. Miss Fancy-pants.’
We were by a stream, because running water was required. The air was ripe with the things she had laid out, which were all grey and dusty, except the fresh mother-in-law ear, which weregreen-grey and hairy. She were not done yet. She were busy with the bits as she went on.
‘I said to her,
Why is it guv me, then, if I’m not to use it?
But she says,
Ooh, not all as has wombs is good for mothering
. And coming from Onion’s, I took her point; some o’ those old besoms, you wouldn’t wish ’em on the Devil as an enemy, leave alone a mam. A little fire, Collaby, is what we’re needing now.’ She tossed me a tinderbox. ‘When it is going, await my word to put these on.’ And she prodded at a bundle of sticks with dried buds falling off and through them.
Well, the magic-making went on such a long time, I were on the point of complaining. Remember, she is doing you a favour, Collaby, I told myself any number of times. I’d had to flit away in the night when the men of my main creditor, Ashbert, caught me up at Osgood’s inn, so I was all twitchy. The whole world seemed in pursuit of me, and all I wanted was an end to the fleeing.
‘And now,’ Annie would say. She would glance at the sky as if she were wishing away rain. ‘Everything that is bitter.’ And this plant and that powder would go up in an awful stink, and I would have to breathe the smoke of that. Or, ‘A spot o’ signage is in order now,’ and she would sit me down and draw her mysteries on my brow, which I was hopeful would bring on glimpses such as I had enjoyed at haying that time, but no, it was just
rasp, rasp, rasp
, and her hand this time smelt of that distinct repulsiveness women have when they are past childering, overlaid with this herb and that mineral dust. ‘And now for the
‘Right up to anyone’s end is good!’ I laughed. ‘Nobody wants to end, whether their life were good or ill.’
‘I’ve seen plenty that wanted to go before time took ’em. They come to me for the wherewithal.’
‘Well, anyway.’ I swigged the last of the tea and jumped off the bench. ‘You think, Annie, how the thing might be accomplished, and I will be your white rabbit. I will come back tomorrow.’
She looked down at me. Everyone had grown into giants around me, all the orphans I used to be equal with. Here she was, sitting, and me standing, and she must still lower her eyes, when I used to poke her looking almost straight into them.
‘There might be many you can promise this to,’ I said. ‘You might make your fortune sending people to the place of their dreams. Come, Annie’—I stepped towards her, pulling out my last card, which with women is always His Majesty of Hearts—‘for the sake of times at St Onion’s. Poor-house rubbish together, we were. ’Tis a binding that never unravels.’
‘There are dangers, Dought. You cannot imagine. I am not sure of them all myself.’
‘Mebbe not. Get it wrong with me, that you may right it with others, and become a rich woman in a house on the hill.’
Still she regarded me, all uncertainty. If I’d looked more pleading, my eyes would have fell right out my head onto the dirt there.
‘Leave me think,’ she said. ‘You nuisance, coming here with your Onion’s-talk. Why should I want to recall all that?’
‘It’s what we’re made on, Annie. We cannot deny.’
‘Go on.’
‘I’ll go on.’ I patted her grey-clothed knee. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow.’
‘Next day. I’ve a batch to mix tomorrow and don’t want disturbing.’ She said this to the forest wall over my head.
‘Very well,’ I said, and I was gone, leaving her thoughts, I was sure, bubbling like broth over a cookfire.
‘There was a woman said I ought never to do this,’ Annie said. ‘I met her at High Oaks Cross when I were deeper in the telling game. Come all the way from Rockerly, she did. Miss Fancy-pants.’
We were by a stream, because running water was required. The air was ripe with the things she had laid out, which were all grey and dusty, except the fresh mother-in-law ear, which weregreen-grey and hairy. She were not done yet. She were busy with the bits as she went on.
‘I said to her,
Why is it guv me, then, if I’m not to use it?
But she says,
Ooh, not all as has wombs is good for mothering
. And coming from Onion’s, I took her point; some o’ those old besoms, you wouldn’t wish ’em on the Devil as an enemy, leave alone a mam. A little fire, Collaby, is what we’re needing now.’ She tossed me a tinderbox. ‘When it is going, await my word to put these on.’ And she prodded at a bundle of sticks with dried buds falling off and through them.
Well, the magic-making went on such a long time, I were on the point of complaining. Remember, she is doing you a favour, Collaby, I told myself any number of times. I’d had to flit away in the night when the men of my main creditor, Ashbert, caught me up at Osgood’s inn, so I was all twitchy. The whole world seemed in pursuit of me, and all I wanted was an end to the fleeing.
‘And now,’ Annie would say. She would glance at the sky as if she were wishing away rain. ‘Everything that is bitter.’ And this plant and that powder would go up in an awful stink, and I would have to breathe the smoke of that. Or, ‘A spot o’ signage is in order now,’ and she would sit me down and draw her mysteries on my brow, which I was hopeful would bring on glimpses such as I had enjoyed at haying that time, but no, it was just
rasp, rasp, rasp
, and her hand this time smelt of that distinct repulsiveness women have when they are past childering, overlaid with this herb and that mineral dust. ‘And now for the
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