A Killer in Winter

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Authors: Susanna Gregory
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see Philippa again and to assess what you have missed by allowing her to slip through your fingers.’
    Bartholomew nodded absently. He stood in the middle of Michaelhouse’s yard, with Michael sniggering lustfully beside him,
     and wondered how the sudden and unexpected arrival of someone who had played such an important part in his past would affect
     his future.

CHAPTER 2
    B ARTHOLOMEW WOKE IN AN UNEASY MOOD THE NEXT morning, with Philippa Abigny at the forefront of his thoughts. It was the last day of Advent – the period of fasting and
     prayer before Christmas – and the time when people readied themselves for Christmas. Long before dawn, Michaelhouse buzzed
     with activity. Servants scurried here and there, carrying pots, pans and supplies of various kinds, watched over by the critical,
     all-seeing eyes of that most illustrious and feared of College servants, Agatha the laundress.
    Women were rarely employed by the University, because it was a domain inhabited by men, many of whom had taken priestly vows
     of celibacy. In order to avoid unnecessary temptation, the University ensured that contact between scholars and ladies was
     minimal, and its beadles patrolled assiduously, aiming to prevent long-deprived students from straying to taverns or other
     town venues where they might encounter members of the opposite sex.
    Laundresses, however, were a necessity, and to surmount the problem, the University stipulated that any ladies hired should
     be so physically unattractive that they would repel even the most desperate of scholars. Ugly, but competent, washer-women
     were highly prized commodities, and Colleges and hostels guarded them jealously. Michaelhouse had Agatha, a mountain of a
     lady with a bristly chin, powerful arms, mighty hips and an unshakeable conviction that she had survived the plague because
     she was a favourite of God’s. She took her College duties seriously, and, as the Twelve Days approached, no member of Michaelhouse
     could expect to find himself exempt from running her errands or from becoming embroiled in her frenzied arrangements.
    The scholars left the early-morning chaos and attended mass. On the way back Michael fretted that the fuss was likely to mean
     a delayed breakfast, but he had underestimated Agatha, who was quite capable of producing meals and overseeing festive preparations
     at the same time. The undercook rang the bell to announce the beginning of breakfast at precisely seven o’clock, just as Master
     Langelee was leading his scholars through the gate into Michaelhouse’s yard.
    When the College had been founded in 1324, no expense had been spared by Hervey de Stanton in establishing the institution
     that he hoped would pray for his soul in perpetuity. It comprised a pair of accommodation wings, each two storeys high, linked
     by a central hall. Below the hall were kitchens and a selection of storerooms and pantries. The servants’ wing stood behind
     these, along with outbuildings that included a barn, a brewery, a bakery and a series of sheds that were used for storage.
     Thirty years had taken their toll, however, and some of the once fine buildings were in dire need of repair. The north wing,
     where Bartholomew lived, had a leaking roof and faulty guttering, so that students and their masters were regularly doused
     with icy water in wet weather, and the walls were so slick with damp that mould marched up them in thick green columns.
    While Bartholomew studied some loose tiles on the stable roof, Michael headed for the hall, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on
     the door beyond which his breakfast was waiting. He was not happy to find his progress interrupted by the appearance of Beadle
     Meadowman. Meadowman was looking flustered. In one hand he held the arm of a student, while the other gripped a smirking woman.
     The woman was called Una, and she was one of the town’s prostitutes, while the student was one of Bartholomew’s aspiring physicians.
     Bartholomew

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