At the House of the Magician (12 page)

‘I had no time to do so, Sir,’ answered Dr Dee.

‘But I am your partner. Your scryer. We work together, Dee. We work together or not at all.’

‘Then hear this,’ said Dr Dee, and he took up two chairs, placed them before one of the tables and, I believe, told Kelly about the queen’s minister and his dead daughter. I knew this was so because, before leaving the room, I heard the words ‘thirty gold pieces’ spoken, once by Dr Dee and once, in awe, repeated by Mr Kelly.

I went back to the kitchen and resumed my duties,
thinking all the while about the two objects in the box, wondering if they were true articles of magick and, if so, what conjurations could be performed with them. I’d held them both in my right hand and I now felt an ache and tingle all the way up this arm, as if I’d been lying on it overnight. Soon, though, going about my daily duties, emptying slop buckets into the river and listening to Mistress Midge’s complaints, I began to doubt my eyes. Had I really seen blue stones glittering within the crystal globe? Or, my mind half-expecting magick, had it just been my imagination?

The girls, not having seen the queen, came back to their room to change into their everyday clothes. I told them that I’d seen the real Tom-fool, although, of course, didn’t tell them the circumstances.

‘Oh!’ Merryl said, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. ‘I wanted to see him. I like him! He told me that when I grow up he’d marry me.’

‘Did he now?’ I said, my mind still on the mysterious, magical objects. ‘But I expect your father has a more prestigious match in mind than for you to marry the queen’s jester.’

‘But it would be such fun to be married to him and to help him dress up in different outfits all the time!’

‘He’s too old for you,’ said her sister.

‘And how old is that?’ I asked.

‘We’re not sure,’ said Beth.

‘Is he handsome?’ I asked lightly, which was a question of little consequence, but which could be
explained by my being curious about someone who’d kissed my hand and called me pretty. ‘For today he was disguised as a cat and I couldn’t tell.’

‘He is
remarkably
handsome,’ said Merryl, ‘or I wouldn’t consider marrying him.’

‘No, Merryl,’ said Beth, ‘we’re not sure about that, either, for he nearly always has a mask on.’

‘Yes, and when he hasn’t, he’s never still long enough for anyone to see him because he’s jumping and rolling and turning somersaults,’ Merryl said, and she attempted to turn a somersault herself, but only succeeded in getting caught up in her petticoats.

‘But, Lucy, why do you want to know if he’s handsome?’ Beth asked, frowning.

‘Oh, I was just interested,’ I said, and changed the conversation by bidding her to stand still so that I could pin her bodice on to her skirts without pricking her, a task completed successfully until Tom-fool the monkey spotted the pincushion, scooped it up and proceeded to bombard us with tiny darts, causing us to leave the room in haste and go downstairs.

That night, for some reason unable to sleep, I heard strange noises in the churchyard of St Mary’s and, looking out of my window, saw by the light of the moon two shadowy figures standing over a flat-topped family tomb. I took these for newly risen wraiths at first and was set to scream out when one of them turned towards the house and I saw from his profile and
lengthy beard that it was actually Dr Dee, with Mr Kelly beside him. I watched with an awful fascination as the two men stood over the tomb and raised their hands, all the time chanting a dirge, very low. I believe I saw the dark looking-glass mirror being raised in the air, and once Mr Kelly prostrated himself at full length on the stone. I came to the conclusion that they were in the graveyard for the purpose of practising their trade, and I say
practising
, for it couldn’t have been Alice Vaizey they sought to raise that night, for her father had said she was buried in Richmond.

Such practices filled me with great fear, and did indeed seem to be the Devil’s work, but I could not help but be horribly fascinated about the particulars of such a ceremony and want to know whether it would succeed. This time, with me watching behind my shutter, it did not, but my guess was that Dr Dee and his companion would continue practising, for thirty pieces of gold was great riches and beyond what an ordinary person would ever see in a whole lifetime. If Dr Dee was really without money, as Mistress Midge had said, then he’d surely go to any lengths in his efforts to raise young Mistress Vaizey from the dead.

That Sunday Mistress Midge and I attended church, going not because of any surge of religious feeling on our parts, but because an edict had recently come through that everyone in the country must attend church at least once on a Sunday or be fined sixpence.
The church was packed, therefore, but there were many stony faces and much muttering behind hands, for most folk didn’t like being dictated to in this way. I, however, was of a different mind, for it gave me an opportunity to see other maidservants, to see how they were dressed and how they did their hair, to wear my best outfit – and also to see whether my employer suffered any distress at being in a House of God, for if he was in league with the Devil, then surely he wouldn’t be at ease in such a place?

Mistress Midge and I filed in, found a seat in the church at the back amongst the servants of the other big Mortlake houses, and I shifted to one side slightly so that I had a good view of Dr Dee who, as befitted his status, was seated in one of the front pews. But to my slight disappointment, he seemed untroubled, and appeared to be singing in hearty voice, one hand on Beth’s shoulder, the other on Merryl’s.

After a long and tiresome service the servants came out of the church briskly – all the sooner to get home and prepare their family’s dinners – while the well-to-do folk stayed to be greeted by the parson. I took this opportunity to walk across to the part of the graveyard which was overlooked by my bedroom window, where I located the flat-topped sepulchre where Dr Dee and Mr Kelly had been three nights before. This was a substantial family tomb and, though I couldn’t read the names on it, I counted eight of these, two on each face of the structure. One name seemed to be newly carved,
for it was considerably sharper and lighter than the others. I say I couldn’t read them, but that is not quite true, for I was strangely thrilled to discover the name LUCY writ on one face, though this was older than the others and dark with lichen.

I didn’t wish to draw attention to myself, so as I looked around I picked some herbs. If anyone asked I could say I was gathering rosemary to make a wash for my hair. As I studied the tomb (wondering if the final, newer name was the corpse they’d sought to raise) I noticed that it had a large symbol chalked on the top of it. There had been rain the night before, so this was not complete but seemed to be a large circle with a form of star – five-pointed – writ within it. There was some writing or sign at each point of the star, but these marks were obscure, although I could make out a crescent like the new moon, and saw also four short wavy lines.

I stared at these symbols, fascinated, then, seeing Dr Dee come out of the porch, turned away quickly to leave the churchyard by the side gate. Once back in the dark house I had all thoughts of magick and enchantment erased from my mind, for Mistress Midge intended to begin the big wash the next morning and there were soaps and lye to be prepared, and much shouting to be endured.

On Monday night, I believe that Dr Dee and Mr Kelly tried again to raise spirits, for I heard strange sounds coming from the churchyard. I was so fatigued, however, having risen at three that morning to begin boiling water for the wash and then spending the day helping Mistress Midge scrub, soak, wash and scent the household linen, that I couldn’t make myself stir from my bed.

The following morning, too, I had to be shaken awake by Beth and Merryl, but this was because I’d been woken in the middle of the night by a nightmare about my mother and had been so disturbed by it that I’d been unable to get back to sleep until dawn. In the dream I’d gone back to Hazelgrove but had been unable to find my old home, for in the place where it had once stood was now only rubble, sticks and stones. I’d searched everywhere, feeling that desperate panic of a
child lost, but neither the house, nor Ma, were to be found. At last, though, I’d met Harriet Simon and she’d told me that my parents had been turned out of their cottage and sent to a house of correction, where Ma had died. Sobbing, I’d begged her to tell me that it wasn’t true, but she’d just laughed – upon which I’d screamed out in my sleep and woken myself up.

All day the nightmare hung over me so that I thought little about my duties but much about home. These fears were further compounded by the knowledge that from early childhood I had, on occasion, dreamed of future events: about someone coming to the house and that person arriving the following day, about the weather turning and there later being a horrendous storm, or, once, a near-neighbour dying of an accident. After this latter thing had happened, I’d stopped telling people of my dreams and never attempted to recall them once awake, for I was too scared of dreaming that something bad would happen to my ma, or to my brothers or sisters. This time, though, I couldn’t seem to shake the nightmare from my mind.

The afternoon when Mistress Midge and I were sitting mending the mistress’s silk stockings I began to tell her about the dream, hoping that she’d give me some simple reassurance that it was nothing but a night-fright and that all at home was sure to be well. I hadn’t got far into my retelling of it, however, before she stopped me, saying that she’d heard quite
enough (for the stocking-mending had put her in a horrid mood), and had sufficient worries in the real world without being troubled by my mewling nightmares. I said no more, for I well knew that she had no time for talk of anything strange or inexplicable. It seemed that she could only work in the magician’s house if she kept her mind on everyday events. Food, drink and gossip concerned her, but not much else.

My thoughts were all over the place that day, my fingers clumsy, so that I broke a porcelain plate in front of Dr Dee, spoilt a pottage by over-salting it and burned a batch of biscuits which the mistress had asked me to make. When Dr Dee sent for me that evening, therefore, I knew I’d been careless and thought he might be about to chastise me or even tell me that my services in the house were no longer required. As I made my way to see him in the library, therefore, I was practising my apologies.

I knocked and entered as usual, sank into a curtsey, and when I straightened up, I saw that Dr Dee had Mr Kelly with him. They were sitting one each side of the small table on which reposed the skull.

‘Lucy, is it not?’ asked Dr Dee. I had been in his presence perhaps five times by then, but he always looked at me with slight surprise, as if he was seeing me for the first time. I was so certain that he was going to say I must leave his house that my mouth dried up and I could only nod that yes, that was my name.

Instead of listing my failings as a maid, however, he
began, ‘My children profess themselves very content to have you as their nurse.’

I managed to say, ‘Thank you, Sir,’ although I was still waiting for him to add, ‘
But …
’

The two gentlemen exchanged glances, then Mr Kelly, looking me up and down carefully, murmured, ‘I have seen a miniature of the girl in question and yes, this one is quite like. With a little care ….’

‘Perhaps wearing a similar gown?’

‘And at night, by the light of a candle, certainly.…’

I looked from one to the other, having no idea of what they were speaking of and just relieved that it didn’t seem I’d lost my position in the household. They asked me to take a couple of turns about the room so that they could judge how I walked, then just sat, murmuring together and nodding thoughtfully.

‘Go on, Dee,’ said Mr Kelly at last.

‘Yes. Quite,’ Dr Dee said. ‘Lucy, I … therefore … that is, we …’ He hesitated and, placing his fingers on the skull, stroked the smooth round top of it with a caressing movement, as one might stroke a pet cat.