We established the date – mid April. We had just under a month. Less time than I would have liked, but it could have been worse.
Two days after our arrival, Chief Farrell, Major Guthrie, and Peterson went to the palace. Weller and Randall went with them. Markham stayed behind with us, practising his conjuring tricks. The curtains remained unignited. There was nothing more we could do except wait for their return, so we decided to keep busy. Not that we had much choice. Just keeping the house going took up all of our time. No wonder everyone had so many bloody servants.
For a start, water had to be brought in and lugged up the stairs. After a particularly wet incident involving an ascending Mr Markham and a descending Mr Randall, we decided to wash in the kitchen. Schiller and I went first, then the boys. Then a water carrier turned up at the door looking for business and Markham nearly married him on the spot.
After washing, we donned what seemed an enormous number of garments. A shift, hooped underskirt, petticoat, another velvet underskirt, an overdress, sleeves, hose, shoes and headgear. Schiller got away with a bum roll, but I was cursed with what Mrs Enderby had assured me was a very moderate farthingale. I had four dresses: two court dresses, a travelling outfit, and a supposedly more comfortable woollen dress to wear around the house.
Once we’d eased each other into our clothing, there was breakfast to sort out. We’d brought some food with us, but that was kept for emergencies. Weller and Randall would return from the market with bread, cheese, and baskets full of mud-covered objects that apparently were vegetables. Turnips figured prominently. However, Weller’s father had been a butcher and therefore, he knew one end of a rabbit from the other. Farrell assumed charge of the cooking and I was relegated to unskilled labour – chopping, peeling and, occasionally, stuffing. It all took hours. As did the clearing away afterwards.
Then there was the house to tidy, fires to lay, buckets (!) to empty – it just went on and on. How the hell did these people ever find the time for war, adultery, cattle-rustling, sheep-shagging, and all the other traditional pastimes of a bygone age?
The three of them arrived back in the early evening, having been gone for hours. They parked the horses, came quietly through the back door, and dropped, exhausted onto the benches. Markham passed them some beer, although how that would help was a bit of a mystery to me.
Farrell was last man in. He stood just inside the doorway, a strange expression on his face. I looked around. Guthrie was wet and shaking out his cloak. Peterson, sitting at the table, turned to greet him. Schiller sat with me by the fire. The sudden draught from the door blew out one of the candles. Smelly smoke drifted across the room. I knew what this was. He was seeing the scene he had described to me in my office.
I said, ‘It’s fine. Come on in.’ My voice broke the spell and the moment passed.
I was desperate to know what had happened, but made myself give them a minute first. Guthrie drained his cup, peered dubiously into the bottom, and pushed it away from him.
I couldn’t stay quiet any longer.
‘How did it go? Did you see her? What did she say?’
The correct procedure is to say, ‘Report’. However, you can’t always remember everything.
Farrell sighed. ‘We never saw her.’
‘What? All that time and you never saw her?’
This had been a fear of mine. That we would turn up, day after day after day and she couldn’t or wouldn’t see us and we’d never get access and time would roll on and soon it would be too late …
‘It’s not all bad,’ he said, wearily. ‘They did take our papers. We were well treated. They knew who we were.’
‘And?’
‘They’ll get back to us.’
This was awful. I’d envisaged (and planned for) death, disaster, or discovery, but never that they would just ignore us.
‘The place is packed,’ he said, sensibly not quite draining his cup. ‘There are queues of people seeking an audience. She couldn’t possibly see them all. This is just some sort of weeding process. They’ll get back to us.’
Time to take the initiative.
‘Right,’ I said. ‘Tomorrow, we’re out on the streets. We’re going shopping. We’ll buy everything in sight. Don’t worry about payment. We’re gentry. No one ever expects them to pay for anything. We’ll have to leave it all behind when we go, so no one’s really losing by it. Mr Markham, you can do the money-slinging thing. And your conjuring tricks. Play with the kids. Tim – smile at the ladies. I’m going to flirt with everyone. Even their horses if I have to. Chief, you’ll be decisive, commanding, and radiate wealth. Major …’
‘I know,’ he said, resigned. ‘We’ll be making sure none of you get mugged, murdered, or molested.’
We strode out around noon, leaving Weller behind to mind the shop.