I regarded him affectionately. ‘Do you know,’ I asked, ‘that you’ve just said more in the last minute than you’ve uttered in a whole week?’ I dropped a hand on his shoulder and pressed it.
He let go of the handle of the spit, rose from his stool, shrugging off my hand as he did so, and turned towards me, his face suffused with anger. ‘Don’t you treat me to any of your patronizing airs and graces, Roger. Just leave me alone!’
This abrupt change of mood from the old Philip to the new was shocking. I felt as though he had dealt me a physical blow, and I heard Marthe making tut-tutting noises under her breath. She looked distressed, and although she had not understood what we were saying, Philip’s sudden descent into fury was painfully apparent. She glanced questioningly at me, obviously wondering what I had said to bring about such a transformation.
When I had brought my breathing and my temper under control, I said coldly, ‘I’m going out and I need you to accompany me. John Bradshaw’s orders. Get your cloak on while I fetch mine.’
‘No,’ Philip answered truculently. ‘I ain’t coming. Bradshaw’s given me no such order.’
The door into the yard opened and closed.
‘Who’s taking my name in vain?’ John demanded.
I explained the situation and he raised his eyebrows.
‘You’re going out now? I thought we’d agreed. .’ He paused, grimacing. ‘Oh well, if Mistress Eloise has gone a-visiting, perhaps you should take advantage of her absence.’ He looked at Philip and his features hardened. ‘You’ll do as you’re bid,’ he instructed harshly. ‘Get your cloak on and make no more bones about it.’ He turned back to me as, to my amazement and without further demur, Philip shuffled over to where his cloak hung on a nail beside the kitchen door and put it on. ‘Be careful, Roger,’ John urged. ‘Keep with Philip at all times. And Jules will be free today. If you decide you want his company, you’ll most probably find him in Le Coq d’Or in the Rue de la Juiverie. That’s the road that joins the Petit Pont on the south bank to the Pont Notre-Dame on t’other. It’s his usual drinking den.’
I thanked him and returned to the parlour to collect my own cloak from where I had carelessly thrown it over the back of a chair, and to retrieve my hat from where I had dropped it, even more carelessly, on the floor. (Anyone could tell that I was unused to smart clothes.) By the time I was ready, having had to search around for the latter before spotting it under the table, Philip was waiting for me outside the street door, looking cold and disgruntled.
The November afternoon was well advanced, and, above us, the sky was dull and overcast. A chilly wind was blowing off the Seine, whistling between the canyons of the houses and bringing with it the smell of rotting fish and the faint tang of the sea that is reminiscent of all cities built on great rivers. It reminded me poignantly of my adopted town of Bristol and for a moment I was dumb with homesickness.
I took a deep breath. ‘Which way?’ I asked Philip.
He shrugged, indicating that he either didn’t know or was bent on being obstructive. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and steered him in a westerly direction, having recollected that Eloise and I had returned to the Île de la Cité by the Pont Notre-Dame earlier in the day and must have crossed the Rue de la Juiverie to get to the square in front of the cathedral. The streets were still crowded, the noise still deafening, and I pulled Philip into the shelter of a doorway, where I could make myself heard.A couple of disease-ridden beggars reluctantly made way for us and rattled their tins, abusing us roundly when we ignored them. (I presume it was abuse. They certainly didn’t sound as if they were giving us the time of day.)
‘Now listen to me, Philip,’ I said, ‘and listen carefully. I’m going to have to trust you. And I do trust you. You may be behaving like a right little shit-house at the moment, but I’ve known you for years and we’ve been good friends in the past, so I’m going to tell you what I’ve even kept secret from John.’
‘I don’t want to know,’ he shouted, and clapped both his hands over his ears.
‘I don’t care what you want,’ I snarled back. ‘You’re damned well going to listen!’ Seizing his wrists, I forced down his arms. He struggled to free himself.
The beggars, seeing only what they thought to be a servant defying his master, whooped and cheered and banged with their collecting cups against the wall of the house where we were all sheltering. I heard one of them mutter, ‘Anglais! Anglais!’ followed by some imprecation, while the other fanned out his fingers behind his back in the semblance of a tail. (It crossed my mind, fleetingly, that for the English and French it would be almost impossible to live without one another. Who else would the denizens of both countries find to revile, despise and ridicule so virulently except the pestilential rapscallions on the opposite side of the Channel?)
Keeping Philip’s arms pinioned to his sides, I said through clenched teeth, ‘You’re going to hear what I have to say whether you like it or not.’
The fight suddenly seemed to go out of him and his thin, emaciated body went limp, but I knew him for a cunning little rogue and kept a firm grip on him while I outlined, briefly, the gist of my mission for the Duke of Gloucester. When I had finished, he appeared genuinely shocked, releasing himself gently from my grasp but making no further effort to escape it.
He let out a long, low whistle and murmured, ‘Hell’s teeth!’ For the first time since we renewed our acquaintance, someone else’s predicament had caught his attention and evoked his sympathy. He lowered his voice, even though the two beggars, disappointed of the expected brawl, had now moved on. ‘So that’s the way the wind’s blowing, is it? This is dangerous stuff, Roger.’
‘You don’t need to tell me that,’ I responded feelingly. ‘If the Woodvilles should get an inkling of it, I’d be a dead man long before I could report back to the duke. That’s why it was thought best to keep it a secret even from John.’
‘And now you’ve told me.’ Philip sounded bitter and I realized guiltily that by doing so, I had possibly endangered his life as well as my own.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘But you must see for yourself that I’m in desperate need of some help. Finding a former English soldier who, after forty years, most likely speaks French like a native, in a city the size of Paris is a near-impossible task. Added to which, there’s no positive evidence that this Robin Gaunt lives here at all.’
‘Oh, that sort of thing’s only to be expected,’ my companion snorted savagely. ‘Our lords and masters issue their orders, no matter how impossible they may be, and we poor underlings are expected to carry them out. And woe betide us if we fail!’
‘I don’t think the duke would-’ I was beginning, but Philip interrupted me.
‘Princes, nobles, officers, gentlemen, they’re all the bloody same if you ask me! I never met one who was any different. But all this jabbering ain’t going t’ solve your problem.’ He chewed a dirty fingernail. When I would have spoken, he raised an equally grimy finger and wagged it under my nose. ‘Bide quiet a minute, can’t you, and let me think. Mind you,’ he went on, ‘after what you just told me, I’m buggered if I can think proper. You’re dabbling your fingers in treason here, Roger. And so’s Prince Richard.’
‘Depends if it is treason,’ I argued. ‘Depends on what I find out.’ I glanced over my shoulder, then whispered, ‘Maybe His Grace is already the rightful king. Maybe he has been since the execution of Clarence. And maybe Brother George was rightfully king before him, and that’s why he had to be got rid of.’
Philip clapped one of his hands over my mouth; it smelled of smoke and garlic. ‘Will you keep your great gob shut? Just to please me!’ He started chewing his nail again, nodding his head up and down and staring vacantly into the distance before suddenly coming to a conclusion. ‘Best thing you can do-’