Page 45 of The Forgotten
“Either way, you won’t rest until you find out,” Jill said, hitting the nail on the head. “You’ve come this far; you can’t stop now. We don’t get to choose our parents, Quinny. Plenty of people have fathers they don’t love or respect. Just look at the news. Not a day goes by that you don’t hear about some unfortunate child being abused by the person they trust most in the world. Becoming a parent is not synonymous with becoming a saint, it’s not even synonymous with becoming a decent human being.”
Quinn nodded. “You’re right, but it’s still terribly disappointing to know that you come from someone whom you can’t respect, or even like.”
“I know, but since you won’t just abandon this, you have to let the chips fall where they may.”
“That I do,” Quinn replied as she got up to leave. Jill sprang to her feet as well and wrapped her arms around Quinn. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything. This morning my life was a train wreck, but now everything’s changed. It might still come to nothing, but you have shown me a way to regain control, and for that, I’m truly grateful. What happens now is up to me.”
“And up to me,” Quinn agreed, secretly wondering if it was. Her beloved Grandma Ruth used to say, “We have no control over what happens to us, but we can control how we deal with it.” What happened in the next few months would sorely test that theory.
FORTY-ONE
FEBRUARY 1347
Dunwich, Suffolk
Edwin tried not to gawk as he followed Friar William, who instead of walking at a sedate pace, as Edwin would expect a monk to do, practically sprinted down the vaulted corridor. Edwin had seen Greyfriars from a distance and knew that the clifftop priory was vast, but now that he was inside, he’d realized exactly how extensive it was. The church alone took his breath away. It was bigger than any church in Dunwich, with rows of tall, arched windows. The diamond-shaped panes were arranged in an alternating pattern of blue, green, and red, and the morning sunlight that streamed through the windows cast a rainbow of color onto the flagstones beneath his feet.
The ceiling soared toward the heavens, carrying the prayers of the devout to the rafters and possibly straight up to God. Even the merest whisper sounded like a shout, so Edward refrained from saying anything as Friar William showed him the church and just nodded in appreciation. There was a long cloister that ran along all four sides of the inner courtyard and served as a walkway from one building to the other. Friar William pointed out the main features to Edwin as they passed. There was an infirmary, kitchens and refectory, a guest house, and a chapter house. There were also several outbuildings and a barn for the animals. The friars were busy with their morning chores, going about their business in a quiet, efficient manner.
Friar William ushered Edwin into a large, high-ceilinged room inside the chapter house. Here too, the windows were glazed, but the glass was clear, allowing bright light to fill the chamber. Four friars sat at individual workstations, their heads bent over the manuscripts they were working on. The friars looked up as one, nodded in greeting, and continued with their work, too involved in what they were doing to display much curiosity about a boy who gazed about in wonder.
Edwin wasn’t sure why Father Avery, whom he’d met after Candlemas, had taken it upon himself to help him. Father Avery had come to their house for Sunday dinner just over a week ago. His mother had fussed more than usual and even purchased a good cut of pork, which she boiled with peas and onions and served with mashed turnips. Grandmother Maude scolded Petra, her anger incomprehensible to the children, who salivated with hunger as the divine smell filled their small house. They’d been sent up to the loft, so as not to be underfoot, but they could still hear the hissed argument between their mother and grandmother as they awaited the arrival of Father Avery.
“That pork was too dear,” Maude complained, when she found out how much Petra had spent. “You are not a lady yet, so don’t go getting ideas above your station. You had your chance to settle matters, but you passed it up. Again. I don’t know how a daughter of mine can be so foolhardy. And now you’ve invited that priest into our house.”
Edwin and his sisters exchanged glances but knew better than to comment, even between themselves, for fear of being overheard. They hadn’t had pork since their father was alive, so if their mother got it into her head that she wished to carry on as a lady, and they got a nice, thick slice of meat for their dinner, they would not be the ones to complain.
“I don’t like this scheme of yours, Petra,” Maude continued. “Why involve the priest, when all you have to do is ask Lord Thomas to find a place for our Edwin? He’d keep him out of harm’s way. He’s proven that at the fair.”
“Mother, it’s never too late for Edwin to become a pack-whacker. Any daft fool can lead a donkey or load sacks of fleece onto a cart. I want better for my son. Edwin is smart and has some learning. He can have a position of respect and a skill that will serve him throughout his days. If Thomas dies, Lord Robert will be under no obligation to me or my children, and Edwin might find himself without an income or a roof over his head. Father Avery can offer him a future, whereas Thomas can only provide him with temporary employment. Edwin is not his son, so will never attain an important position, not when Robert has sons to take over the business.”
“I suppose there is logic to your argument, but I worry, Petra. It’s a risk.”
“I know, Mother, but Edwin is getting older, and something must be done. And it’s up to me to see him settled in an occupation that will provide for him. Besides, as long as he remains calm, there’s naught to fear, and what can be more calming than copying letters?”
“What occupation?” Elia mouthed.
Edwin shrugged. He wasn’t sure what his mother had in mind, but he had no wish to become a friar. He’d rather run off and join the crew of a ship. Come spring, there would be many more ships in the harbor, so someone was bound to take him on. He could sail off to Flanders or Spain, or even the dark continent of Africa, which Alfric had told him about as they sat around a fire one night roasting a hedgehog. Edwin didn’t have any, since his grandmother would say that only heathens would eat such uncleanfare, but Alfric swore that it tasted as good as any rabbit. Alfric enjoyed his meat as he spun wild tales about the men of Africa, who had skin as black as ebony and walked around dressed only in loincloths and feathers, with beads hanging around their necks for decoration. Edwin didn’t believe a word, even though Alfric swore that his uncle, who’d been a sailor, had visited those distant shores before his ship went down in a storm a year since. The stories passed the time and spurred on Edwin’s imagination. There was a whole world out there, a world he would never see if he was locked behind the walls of a monastery or spent his youth leading donkeys loaded with wool.
When Father Avery arrived, Edwin and the girls were presented to him with great ceremony. Father Avery took the time to speak to each one in turn and treated them as if they were adults, something no one ever did. He was a stern, studious-looking man, who’d recently come down from Oxford, according to his mother, but his face relaxed when he smiled, and his dark eyes held no judgment as he conversed easily with the family, asking questions and regaling them with tales of life in Oxford. His mother seemed to like the priest and talked to him in a familiar fashion, which seemed to upset his grandmother, whose eyes darted from Father Avery to Edwin in a way that almost made Edwin laugh. What did she expect to see?
Father Avery stayed longer than expected, but no one seemed to mind. The conversation flowed easily, and the hearty meal and spiced wine made everyone feel contented and relaxed. Even Grandmother Maude seemed to enjoy the priest’s company, warming up to him despite her earlier reservations. Petra seemed disappointed when he finally rose to his feet and announced that he needed to return to the priory in time for Evensong.
Father Avery said goodbye to each of them in turn, then took Petra’s hand, which was unusual for a priest, and bowed overit. “Thank you, Mistress Ordell. It’s been many years since I was welcomed into a family as a friend and not a man of the church. This was most pleasant. I hope we might do it again some time.”
“You are very welcome, Father. It was our pleasure to have you in our humble home,” Petra replied modestly as she walked him to the door.
It wasn’t until the remnants of their meal had been cleared away and the crockery washed and dried that Grandmother Maude and the girls finally retired to their beds. Edwin wished them a good night and climbed up to the loft.
“I think I left my lute up here,” he said to his mother. It was a small lie, given that his lute was safely beneath his pillow, but he wanted to talk to her privately.
“Mother, why was Father Avery really here?” Edwin asked. He noted his mother’s look of surprise, but she smiled up at him and patted the space on her bed, inviting him to sit down.
“Edwin, I knew Avery before he became a priest, which was why I’ve appealed to him for help. I’ve asked him to help you get a position as an apprentice scribe.”
“I don’t want to be a scribe,” Edwin replied. “I want to do man’s work.”
Petra didn’t reply. Instead, she put her arm about Edwin and pulled him close, kissing the top of his head as she did when he was little. Edwin felt a flutter of fear in his belly. The incident at the Candlemas Fair brought all his mother’s fears out into the open, and now he might be relegated to the priory for the rest of his life, sent to a place where he couldn’t do much harm, to himself or others. He should have been more careful and remained on the sidelines during the matches, but he wasn’t a cripple, was he? Heonly wanted to do what any other boy would have done at a fair. He was no longer a child. He was a young man, and he wanted to behave as a man would, and have some say in his own life.
