'The house has been empty for a year — because we received no instructions from you as to tenanting — ' He could have apologised for not actually asking her wishes, but did not wish recriminations to spoil the cheerful ambience. 'The shop was let until three weeks ago, when the tenant died — nothing infectious, I believe — and the premises have been cleared. A new tenant can be found as soon as convenient — '
'Let me think about that!' Bolstered by shrub, Juliana hardly needed to think. She had enough haberdashery, collected from Colchester, to start a shop herself.
Mr Impey delved in a drawer of his magnificent desk, managing to conceal an uneaten pie and a pair of holed stockings. After much huffing, he produced a large doorkey. 'There!'
Juliana did not immediately take it but asked him, 'As a married woman, I assume this property will belong to my husband?'
Abdiel Impey never gave an answer until he had ascertained full circumstances. Young wives who visited the Temple without their husbands were usually married to scamps; besides, Mr Gadd had left him private instructions which mentioned certain suspicions of Orlando Lovell. Mr Impey leaned forwards and posed potent questions. He learned from Juliana that Lovell, now a Delinquent colonel, had gone overseas several years ago and had not been heard of since. Apart from one letter I received in late 1649, though it was written earlier… I believed he sailed with Prince Maurice of the Palatine, supposed now to be lost in a tempest at sea.'
Gulping more shrub, Mr Impey made an expansive gesture that knocked law reports and almanacs to the floor. 'Count him dead, ma'am! Call the bounder defunct! Are you hoping to take a lover? You may do it with impunity'
'Oh I cannot countenance adultery!' fluttered Juliana, with the heat of one who had once considered it extremely keenly. She too wished she had gone more slowly with the shrub. In fact, from that or some other cause, she was feeling slightly sick.
'Rush to it, my dear.'
'But the penalty is death!' Juliana knew adultery was a felony; both guilty parties would be condemned to death, death without benefit of clergy.
'Not in your case!'
Mr Impey took down from a shelf the Act of 10 May 1650 for suppressing the detestable sins of Incest, Adultery and Fornication. It showed signs of frequent use. 'There are not one but two provisos, for the preservation of persons in your position: one! "Provided, That this shall not extend to any man. who, at the time of such Offence committed, is not knowing that such woman with whom such Offence is committed, is then married." Many of my masculine clients have felt much relieved by that! "Oh no, sir! I had absolutely no idea!" And two! "Proviso: Provided, That the said penalty in case of Adultery shall not extend to any woman whose Husband shall be continually remaining beyond the Seas by the space of three years" — the Rumpers discussed five in committee, but they are charitable men — "or shall by common fame be reputed to be dead; nor to any woman whose husband shall absent himself from his said wife by the space of three years together, so as the said wife shall not know her said husband to be living within that time"!
'No one has informed me that Orlando is dead,' faltered Juliana.
'Pish! He was in Prince Maurice's ship; the common fame says it sank and vanished. Besides, you have not had a line from him for four years. Lamentable lady, this could be written just for you. You can lie gladly with your lover.'
'Oh, I do not have a lover!' Juliana believed Gideon Jukes was just a bothersome complication. She put him out of her mind. Generally.
'If you are of the inclination, madam, feel free to get one. Get him at your earliest convenience.'
Juliana Lovell showed the pinched look many women acquired when talking to lawyers about husbands who had caused them years of difficulty. Mr Impey glared sternly. He implied that obtaining this hypothetical lover was almost her duty; resistance was feeble.
So charged with enthusiasm for this glorious idea was Mr Impey that, but for the existence of Mrs Abigail Impey, he would have flung himself at Juliana's feet. Previous experience of Mrs Abigail's retribution when she suspected he wandered (or knew of it for certain from his back-stabbing colleagues) gently held him back.
'Of course I must warn you, Mistress Lovell, that fornication will be punished with three months' imprisonment without bail, for a first offence… So once you identify your lover, you are obliged to marry him.'
Let her enjoy herself, poor pretty little mite, he thought. If the man, Lovell, ever turned up again, there would be fees for someone in it.
It seemed kindest not to mention that in disputes when this happened, English courts always decreed 'that the woman should be given back to her first husband'.
Accompanied by Mr Impey's mournful, knock-kneed clerk, a youth so devoid of any pretensions that he kept quiet and studied the gutter, Juliana tripped out to take possession of her property. The clerk was to show her the way, save her from falling down as the effect of the shrub took hold and help overcome any trepidation she felt about entering empty premises. Also, he was to check around surreptitiously, in case damage had occurred due to Mr Impey's neglect. Not that a lawyer would ever use the term 'neglect' apropos of his duty to a client.
It was not far. The house and shop were in the same ward as the Middle Temple, Farringdon Ward Without, off Shoe Lane, in one of several narrow alleyways in London that were called Fountain Court. Of course there was no fountain. It was not particularly courtly, though public scavengers had cleared away most recent rubbish and there were no beggars sleeping in doorways at that moment.
Juliana was led to an old door in a modest doorcase, beside a large square shop window with murky, cobwebbed glass. After passing through the shop, bare now of all but a long counter and a few battered racks, Juliana discovered a store for goods, then a scullery with a range, and a tiny paved yard outside. That had a pantry with stone shelves, a coal-store and an anonymous shed.
'Is there a privy?' The clerk nodded, too shy to show her. Juliana identified it herself. 'Does it work?'
'Most of the time.'
Indoors again, a steep little stair led up to three storeys of dusty domestic accommodation. First a well-lit best room and snug little parlour, then bedchambers. Under the eaves lay a low garret. There were adequate fireplaces. The floors were only slightly askew; the windows fitted decently. No rooms were furnished.
'There is no furniture, linen or crockery; the tenants were obliged to bring their own.'
'Tenants?'
'Mr Impey has the past rent waiting for you. You must pay him a fee for the managing of it though.'
'I imagined I would,' remarked Juliana gravely. She had no quibbles. After her years of struggle, this wondrous bequest brought incredible relief. If there really was rent to come as well, that would help her equip the house.
Mr Impey had been unable to tell her whether her guardian ever lived here himself. Juliana wondered if possibly her grandmother visited this place with Mr Gadd… Delicacy made her content to respect their privacy.
Her first thought had been that she could sell this property and have enough money to survive in Lewisham for the foreseeable future. But why Lewisham? Mr Gadd had given her a wonderful gift, and its best feature was that she now possessed a bolt-hole. She decided Gadd probably knew that, and indeed intended it. She could vanish here. Nobody — meaning her husband — nobody would be aware she had this house. It gave Juliana a sense of independence that she found almost shocking.
She moved to London at once. She brought Tom, Val, and the little maid Catherine; she was able to hire a daily woman and occasional handyman too. She cleaned and aired the building, gradually providing simple furnishings and good utensils.