Brewer's Tale, The (67 page)

Older, taller, possessing the bronzed skin that marked him a sea-merchant, he wore a sword at his hip and fine clothes on his back. My throat caught at the sight of him and my heart began to beat fast, as if it wasn't my own flesh and blood upon The Swanne's steps, but a stranger. Betje stood next to him, a bemused expression on her face and I noted that, unlike Leander, Tobias hadn't taken Betje's hand. In fact, the way he fixed his eyes upon me suggested he couldn't bear to look upon her.

In the fleeting time it took for me to leap to that conclusion, anger flooded my body and my steps faltered. Alyson, who I was still supporting, unaware of who waited on the threshold, raised her head.

‘God give you good day,' she hailed Tobias. ‘I'll be with you momentarily fine sir. Please, make yourself comfortable,' she waved him back into the bathhouse. ‘This be a mere setback.' Tobias followed the direction of her hand and frowned. ‘Leda!' she cried, a finger pointing to the heavens. ‘Leda,' she repeated in a quieter tone. ‘She will do for this handsome one.' Pulling me forwards, she increased the pace.

Resisting, I dug my heels in, forcing us to pause. ‘That handsome one is my brother,' I murmured.

Alyson, who'd freed herself from my grasp, looked from me to Tobias. ‘That's Tobias? The sanctimonious son of a —'

‘Tobias,' I said loudly, releasing Alyson and striding past before she could make the situation worse. Leda replaced me by Alyson's side and, scrutinising Tobias as she passed, helped her mistress into The Swanne. Alyson's voice carried as she demanded wine, a footstool, drying sheets and a blanket. The other women slowly returned to work, all of them casting curious glances at Tobias as they came through the door.

There'd be much to explain … if I chose, that was. With his face averted, I couldn't read what Tobias was thinking, but I could imagine. Here was his sister, not only living in a bathhouse and conducting her business on its premises, but she called the owner friend.

Waiting till the last of the women entered, and Betje tactfully closed the door, sealing the women and the few men who'd bounded after them inside, I mounted the steps.

‘Are you all right?' I asked Betje, taking her hand.

She squeezed mine back and regarded me steadily. ‘Aye. Are you?'

I was not. But I summoned a smile. ‘Of course.'

‘Tobias is here, Anna,' she said, gesturing to him with her disfigured hand, her tone cautious.

What did my little sister sense? What did she know?

Without flinching, I swung to Tobias. ‘God give you good day, brother. I confess I didn't expect to see you, but it does my heart good to see you so well.'

Formal, but no less sincere.

Tobias didn't answer immediately and I saw his mouth working strangely. I began to prepare myself for the tirade I assumed must follow, for the accusations, the self-righteous appraisal of my lowly circumstances.

I was about to suggest we retire to the solar so words could be exchanged in private, when Tobias, with a peculiar noise, flung himself in my arms.

‘Oh, Anneke, how I've missed you,' he said and began to sob.

Only much later, after we were comfortable in the solar, and Tobias and I were able to secrete ourselves in a corner as Leander, Alyson and Adam made plans, did he explain what had happened since our last correspondence.

Shocked by what he'd seen at Elmham Lenn and by the brutality of Karel's death, and of Louisa's and Saskia's, Tobias's first reaction was to blame me. After all, he reasoned, if I hadn't started the brewery, it wouldn't have attracted the ire of the monks or what followed in Westel Calkin's wake. As he confessed this to me, Tobias had the grace to look shamefaced. But his thoughts were no worse than my own; nothing could punish me more than one glance at Betje or the memory of Karel. It was only once they were back in London that Leander told Tobias the rest of the sorry tale, what Westel Calkin had done to me. When Leander discovered my whereabouts he learned about my children.

‘Anneke … I mean, Anna.' He gave a tremulous smile and went to reach for my hand but pulled back, uncertain. I took his and held it fast. He nodded and smiled more broadly. ‘I don't know what to say. There's nothing I can say, is there?'

‘Only one thing, Tobias.'

His chin flew up, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘Oh,' he said. ‘Aye, I'm sorry, Anneke. You cannot begin to know how sorry I am.'

‘That might be true, but you can start by telling me.'

And so, over the course of the next hour, Tobias and I were reconciled. Trying to take the blame for what happened, reasoning that if he'd been present, the monks, let alone Westel wouldn't have dared act, I rid him of that foolish notion.

‘Nay, Tobias, Westel was not in his right mind. Your presence at Holcroft House would have made no difference. He believed he had God on his side and therefore nothing he did was sinful or wrong. The monks did not condone his actions. He was set on a course and nothing and no-one was going to steer him from what he believed was a righteous path.'

Tobias shook his head in sorrow. ‘If only he'd never darkened your door, you would —'

‘Still be brewing in Elmham Lenn, Karel would be alive, Betje,' I glanced in her direction where she sat playing with Tansy, ‘would not be so disfigured and Saskia, Louisa and Will would still be with us. If you only knew how many times I've thought that, said it, dreamed it. It achieves nothing except to sharpen the wound, colour the memories of those I love in malevolent hues. I owe them better than that — we all do. The facts are that Betje is scarred for life and the others are dead. Nothing I do or say, no-one I blame, can change that.' I took a deep breath. ‘I'm here now, in Southwark, and a brewer once more. Aye, I've played this game a thousand times and still lose. The only way I can make good of the evil that occurred is to succeed, Tobias, to make my brewing work and ensure a good life for my children. For Betje.'

Tobias stared at me. ‘You'll make it work, Anneke. You always do.'

We held each other a long time after that.

Our relationship would never have the warmth and easiness it once possessed; he couldn't reconcile my brewing, or the bathhouse, with his sense of what his sister should be doing, who I should be, but he understood my choices were limited. Unhappy, he nonetheless didn't fault-find as he once would. This was a lesson I believe Leander taught him. What he did to encourage such a transformation, I know not. But it did make the situation easier and meant I could drop my guard.

‘Would you like to meet your niece and nephew?' I asked.

Tobias frowned then his face cleared. ‘I'd not thought of them in that way, but I would like to, very much.'

Betje accompanied us up the stairs and, once again, I noticed the difficulty Tobias had looking at her face, how he didn't take her hand or, once beside the crib, encourage her into his lap the way he used to. Betje's shoulders slumped and I saw the hopeful looks she cast in her brother's direction even if he didn't.

Admiring the slumbering babes for a while, we bid Betje goodnight and left her with Juliana. As we descended back to the solar, I asked about his manner around Betje.

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, he sighed, locking his eyes onto the torch that burned on the far wall. ‘I could not credit what I saw when she first emerged from the bathhouse. I thought, who is this little monster, leering at me so? Once I understood it was Betje, that my little sister was so transformed, I … I didn't know what to do, what to say …' He swallowed and it was a moment before he found his voice again. ‘She is unrecognisable. Her skin, her eye, her beautiful hair …' He gripped the railing like a drowning man. In the light of the sconces, his face was pained. ‘I cannot look at her lest she sees what I do. What future does she have? She cannot hope for a husband, friends or an ordinary life looking like that. She will endure constant mockery and cruelty. Dear Lord, forgive me, but it would have been kinder if she died.'

I drew in a sharp breath and waited till the anger abated. ‘She's God's creature, Tobias. Her life or death is for Him only to decide, not you.'

‘Aye, but —'

‘You do not know what her life is like. Betje has real friends here — those who love and protect her — apart from me.'

He lifted his eyes from the floor.

‘Aye, she does. Here, in this bathhouse, this place I know you only tolerate because your master bids you must. Your discomfort is apparent, but hear this — everyone beneath this roof, from servants to owner, has shown her nothing but kindness and do you know how? By treating her as if she were no different to any other eight year old. She works, plays, eats, sleeps and dreams. Here, she found hope again — so did I.' I let that sink in for a moment.

Below us, a young woman scurried out of one of the rooms, laughing, her hair falling down her back, her tunic falling off one shoulder. A portly old monk followed, lifting his robes and skipping along the corridor, giggling.

Tobias pulled a disapproving face.

‘Don't be so quick to judge what you think you see, Tobias. Learn to look below the surface, and understand the truth of those you would be so ready to reject, to despise.'

‘You're not just talking about Betje, are you?'

‘That's for you to decide.'

Tobias turned to me. ‘Leander told me much the same thing.'

‘Then he is wise.'

Tobias's eyebrows arched. ‘Which is the same as saying you are.'

‘Is it?' I smiled, and we walked back to join the others.

Once I returned to the comfort of the solar I learned the real reason for Leander's timely presence. Oh, I'd caught snatches of conversation, of the excitement in his tone when he spoke to Alyson, and it was evident something had changed Tobias's opinion of my circumstances.

Leander and Alyson were discussing Master Fynk who, after his mortification at her hands and Leander's intervention, found his pride could only be salved through coin. Leander, after some resistance, harsh words and warnings, relented, paying him a sum that made my eyes widen.

‘But that wasn't what convinced him to capitulate and allow you to brew again,' added Leander, shooting me a look that made my heart flip. He parted the rushes with his cane.

‘Tell her,' said Alyson, rising and pouring another round of ale into everyone's vessels. She was much recovered from her ordeal and earlier that evening had enjoyed keeping clients and the girls spellbound as she recounted her tale over and over. Each new customer insisted on hearing it and Alyson obliged. Thanks to Master Fynk, The Swanne had little to offer except beer (to our good fortune, in his eagerness Master Fynk had overlooked the barrels stored behind the mews). Whereas before the men would have turned up their noses at such a drink, God's grace (and, I liked to believe, sense of irony) smiled upon us, and those who'd once been reluctant to try our beer were keener than ever thanks to Alyson's performance — and Master Fynk.

‘I'll have me some of that Son of Ale,' was a constant request, according to Adam. ‘Lords, monks, commoners, didn't matter,' he said.

Aware of Alyson hovering over my empty mazer, I snapped back to the present.

‘Sir Leander has brought some exciting news.'

‘My lord.' I lifted my brimming mazer. ‘I would very much like to hear it.' My tone was formal. Unspoken between Leander and myself was that our relationship would remain a secret from Tobias. As far as my brother was concerned, it was pure luck that led Leander to The Swanne and my ale some weeks ago — a product his master already knew from drinking it in Elmham Lenn.

‘When I heard about a brew of surpassing quality, I had to go to the source. Much to my surprise, it also led me to your sisters,' he'd explained. Tobias appeared happy with that.

Leander put down his drink now and drew himself forward in his chair. ‘I'm very pleased to be the bearer of excellent tidings. The king has sent me here to place an order on his behalf for your ale and beer.'

My mouth dropped open. I stared at Leander. Did he jest? ‘I'm to trade with the Crown? Is this true?'

Leander gave a laugh. ‘Aye, mistress, it's true. His Grace wishes to purchase supplies to help quench the thirst of the king's household during the next sitting of parliament. In Gloucester. Tobias has the order in his safe-keeping.' Tobias promptly patted a pocket in his surcoat. ‘Three dozen barrels of ale and beer are to be delivered to Gloucester Abbey before the twenty-fourth of October.' At the expression on my face, he gave a snort of amusement. ‘Did you doubt my assurance that the king himself would drink from my supplies? That he would taste your ale and beer?'

‘I did.' I clasped my hands. ‘But not now. To think he enjoyed it so much His Grace would like more.'

‘A great deal more. I should warn you, royal favour is a fickle thing. Once bestowed it can also be swiftly retracted. Despite today's setback, you must reap what you've sown.'