Free I, Coriander by Sally Gardner Page B

Fell.
    ‘Ann,’ I replied.
    ‘Amen,’ said my stepmother.
    I knew then that my name had been stolen from me and locked away in the study. I would have to find it, for without my name who was I?

11
    Farewells
    S hips need good anchors, for without them they start to drift out to sea. So it was with our house. One by one the servants sadly shook their heads and left, until soon only Danes and Joan remained. In truth, poor Joan was too frightened to be of much use to us. Maud and Arise put the fear of the Lord into her, calling her a thief and accusing her of taking meat and other victuals. Arise threatened to have her thrown into Newgate Jail, which was as good as a death sentence. Joan went as white as a plucked chicken and started trying to cook her way to salvation. Now my only security was my beloved Danes, and my fear of losing her was great.
    In the early days after my father’s departure I pinned my hopes on Master Bedwell coming to our rescue. It was not to be. Under the watchful eye of Arise Fell, Maud Leggs (as I thought of her) became well versed in what to say to visitors like Master and Mistress Bedwell when they came to enquire how we were all doing in these troublesome times. For not only was there a warrant for my father’s arrest but three of his ships had been reported lost at sea. Master Bedwell offered his help.
    Maud held a cloth to her nose and said, ‘Oh, I thank you for your concern. It has all been such a terrible blow. My dear good husband has, I am certain, been wrongly accused and is doing what he can to save his name and business. To that end he has gone away. I pray daily for news from him.’
    Then she squeezed out a tear, and flapping her hand up and down like a fan whispered, ‘Tell me, Master Bedwell, that it be not true what they say about my good husband having been a Royalist supporter.’
    All this was said while Hester and I stood by her chair, our heads bowed, our eyes kept firmly on the floor.
    Master Bedwell looked mighty uncomfortable and said that as far as he knew Thomas Hobie was a good and honest gentleman.
    ‘My thoughts too,’ said Maud, dabbing at her eyes. ‘And all this talk of helping Papists is no more than lies.’
    Patience kindly asked after me.
    ‘As you can see, Ann is well,’ replied Maud.
    ‘Do you mean Coriander?’ said Patience.
    ‘Indeed I do not,’ said Maud Leggs. ‘We call her Ann to bring her back to the ways of the Lord. It is not good for a child to be indulged with a name that invites vanity. Ann be a good Christian name.’
    Patience looked worried and at a loss as to what to say.
    Oh yes, Maud Leggs and Arise Fell knew how to stifle criticism. As the visitors turned to leave, Maud said, ‘I thank you so much for your concern. Do come again. Our gates are always open to honest godly folk.’
    Arise led them out into the hall and said piously, ‘I am praying daily for Master Hobie’s safe return, just as I pray daily that the Lord Jesus Christ will soon see fit to come to London and take up his crown.’
    The Bedwells never came again to enquire how we were faring.
    To the good mistresses of Arise Fell’s flock, who rushed to our house clucking like hens to peck their mean beaks into our affairs, to them Maud Leggs would say, weeping into her cloth, ‘If I had known that my husband was a Royalist supporter, I would never have married him.’
    ‘Indeed not,’ the Bible-clutching ladies would say as they ate our sweetmeats and drank my father’s fine wines.
    ‘And when I think,’ sniffed Maud, ‘that my first husband (God rest his soul) was a hero who fought with Cromwell at the Battle of Naseby and laid down his life for the great cause! He must be turning in his grave.’
    Cluck, cluck, cluck, went the good mistresses.
    ‘This be my daughter,’ said Maud, pointing at Hester. ‘And that be my husband’s child. If it were not that I should care for her I would have left this city and returned home long ago.’
    With that the