Free Salvation by Harriet Steel Page B

mooncalf.’
    Dismayed, Tom looked at Lamotte’s stern face then saw that his black eyes twinkled. Throwing back his head, Lamotte guffawed. ‘You’ve a face for tragedy, lad, I’ll say that for you.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ Tom stammered.
    ‘You need to be a player to learn how to write plays properly. I’ll give you two months’ trial. What do you say to that?’
    It was all Tom could do to stutter his thanks.
    ‘You’ll start with the small parts to see how you get on. If things go well, and you polish up your play to my satisfaction, I might give it a run for a night or two. Drink up. I should be getting over to the theatre now. You may as well come with me and start to make yourself useful. There’s always plenty of work to do around the place.’

 
    6
     
     
    London  
    August, 1586
     
     
    Tom lifted the latch and called out a greeting. Janey looked up from her darning and nodded as he came in. ‘I didn’t expect you home yet.’
    ‘I had to go down to the quays with some of the others to fetch the timber Lamotte ordered for the new seats. It was heavy work hauling it back so he gave us a couple of hours off before the performance tonight. Baltic oak it was, Lamotte says there’s no English to be had at a good price since most of it went for building houses.’
    He went to the makeshift crib by the hearth and stroked the baby’s head. It was marvellous to him how much little Hal had grown, even in the space of a few weeks. He lay on his back, chubby fists stretched above his head. His pink, dewy cheeks and blond curls reminded Tom of the angels in a painting he had once seen in Salisbury Cathedral.
    ‘I’ve sent Bel and Jack out to try and buy some cloth to make a shift for him,’ Janey remarked. ‘The only time he stays still is when he’s asleep. I shan’t be surprised if he isn’t crawling about soon. I’ve told Bel those rags she wraps him in won’t be no good then.’
    ‘Maybe Lamotte will let me play some of the bigger parts soon and I’ll make more money.’
    She smiled. ‘You’ve helped us already, Tom, and we’re very grateful, but you mustn’t spend all your money on us.’
    Tom went over to the table and took an apple from a bowl. ‘What else should I spend it on?’ he asked through a mouthful. ‘You and Bel and Jack are the closest thing I have to family.’
    A lusty bellow came from the crib and Janey frowned. ‘Pick him up for me while I find something for him to eat.’
    Hal butted Tom’s chest with his head. ‘That won’t do you any good,’ Tom laughed. He took the bowl of gruel from Janey and tried to spoon some between Hal’s lips. Most of it dribbled down his chin but what went in seemed to satisfy him and he squirmed to be let down. Tom put him on the floor and he crowed and kicked his feet in the air.
    ‘He won’t be a quiet one like my granddaughter,’ Janey chuckled, ‘all for keeping herself to herself, she is,’ she glanced at him. ‘She’s a good girl, you know, just a bit of an innocent, believing the promises some men make her.’
    ‘Like the one who was here the first time I came?’
    ‘And the soldier who got her with Hal, God rot him. But then she wouldn’t be the first girl to make that mistake.’
    She heaved herself out of her chair and grabbed Hal before he rolled into the embers of the fire. His face purpled and he squalled. Tom scooped him up and jiggled him on his knee until the crying turned to laughter.
    ‘You’re good with him,’ Janey smiled. ‘Just like Jack, but then he’s always been on Bel’s side. They could be brother and sister, those two. I remember when his ma died and I brought him here, how Bel used to cuddle and comfort him. That was eight summers ago and look at him now; he’ll be taller than her in a year or two.’
    ‘Who was his mother?’
    ‘One of the girls at Henslowe’s place,’ – Tom recognised the name of one of Lamotte’s rival theatre managers who also owned several brothels – ‘Jack