‘Noises downstairs,’ announced Adam.
‘I know.’ I patted his head. ‘Go back to bed.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m coming, too.’ He produced his right hand from behind his back. ‘I’ve got my knife.’
‘Sweetheart, leave this to your father,’ Adela ordered, alarm bringing her swiftly to my side as she made a grab for her younger son.
Adam was too quick for her, moving halfway down the stairs before she could reach him. ‘I’m a man now,’ he insisted. ‘I have a knife.’
‘I said it was a mistake to let him keep it,’ Adela whispered accusingly.
‘Well, it’s done now,’ I hissed in return, guilt making me snappish. ‘And this is no time to start an argument.’ I followed Adam downstairs, but at the bottom caught him by the tail of his nightshirt, pushing him behind me. ‘Stay here,’ I ordered, ‘and don’t move until I call you.’ Needless to say, I had no intention of calling him. ‘I’m just going to look around.’
He gave me one of those white-eyed looks, as much as to say he knew that I was lying, but the thick darkness seemed to have subdued him a little and he nodded, sitting down on the bottom step.
I stood still, listening carefully. The noises had stopped for the moment and, except for those small creaks and groans which every house makes at night, as beams settle and doorposts shrink, all was as silent as the grave. Then they began again, and I located them as coming from the kitchen.
Grasping my cudgel even more tightly, I tiptoed forward, pausing in the open doorway to let my eyes become accustomed to the gloom. I could see no one ahead of me, but was there someone lurking behind the door, waiting to attack if I ventured further in? Carefully, with my left hand, I eased the door open as wide as it would go, but it met with no obstruction. The kitchen was empty — except for Hercules who, I realized suddenly, was sitting as still as a statue beneath the window, head raised and teeth bared, waiting for the would-be intruder to finish sawing through a third slat of one of the shutters. Two had already been removed and the gap was now almost wide enough for a hand and arm to reach in and lift the wooden crossbar that held them closed.
I trod silently across and patted his head, marvelling at the intelligence which had prompted him to try to catch the thief instead of raising the alarm and frightening the man away. I ranged myself alongside the dog, hardly daring to breathe. .
There was a sudden clatter loud enough to wake the dead. Adam, tired of doing as he was told and emboldened by the apparent lack of action, had followed me into the kitchen to find out what was going on. It was only a day or two since Adela, disgusted by the sodden mess that had been Hercules’s wooden drinking bowl, had provided the animal with a pottery one, and it was this that my son had accidentally kicked halfway across the floor. Hercules, thinking we were being attacked in the rear, began to bark at the top of his voice, scaring Adam who then began to yell. Furiously, I shouted at them both to be quiet and Adela, frightened half out of her wits by the noise, came running downstairs, calling out to know what was the matter.
The would-be intruder fled. Naturally!
Spitting oaths that even I didn’t know I knew, I ran to the street door and flung it open, but Small Street was empty. The rats, busy scavenging among the refuse of the central drain, were the only sign of life. I was just about to step outside to investigate further, when the recollection that I was barefoot and wearing nothing but a shirt sent me hastily back indoors.
Adela had by now managed to quieten both the dog and our son, but Elizabeth and Nicholas, roused by all the commotion, had arrived in the kitchen to find out what was going on. They were interestedly inspecting the damaged shutter and at the same time warding off the pangs of night hunger by devouring two of the meat and dried plum pasties which Adela had made specially for my dinner the following day. (My favourites.) Even as I watched, outraged, Adam, his tears dried, helped himself to the last two from the plate on the table, one of which he gave to Hercules. Speechlessly, I surveyed them all.
Adela began to laugh.
‘This could only have happened to us,’ I stormed at my wife the following morning. ‘There is no discipline in this house!’
I was not feeling my best. I had been forced, for reasons of safety, to spend the rest of the night in the kitchen, and although I had dragged one of the armchairs in from the parlour, even piled with cushions it had not been conducive to sleep. I was tired, cross and out of sorts.
The children, scoffing bowls of porridge at the table, kept giving me cautious, sidelong glances, but seemed undisturbed by my ranting. For this, their mother’s faintly amused reaction to my behaviour was largely responsible. They always took their cue from her.
‘Sit down and eat your breakfast,’ Adela advised, placing a fried bacon collop in front of me. ‘You can go round to John Carpenter’s as soon as you’ve finished. He’ll put things to rights in no time.’ She added, ‘You shouldn’t really be having meat on a Friday, so keep quiet about it, but I thought you deserved a special treat.’
‘Is that all you have to say?’ I demanded angrily, but nevertheless wiping my knife on the hem of my tunic before attacking the bacon ravenously. ‘Doesn’t it worry you that someone tried to break into this house last night?’
‘Of course it worries me,’ was the indignant reply. ‘But you know what the streets of this city are like at night. Full of thieves and villains. If I’m truthful, it surprises me that no one has attempted to rob us until now. With your growing reputation as someone close to the king — thanks largely to Margaret and her precious friends — everyone mistakenly imagines we’re a lot richer than we are.’
I grunted, but said nothing. It was the most reasonable explanation of what had happened and yet it didn’t satisfy me. I had no idea why not, so judged it better to keep my doubts to myself and changed the subject.
‘And what about my meat and dried plum pasties? Between them, these three’ — I made a sweeping gesture with my knife — ‘and Hercules have eaten the lot. I don’t mind about the dog. He displayed more good sense than the rest of you put together. If everything had been left to him and me, we’d have caught the intruder red-handed. Instead of which. .’ I broke off, unable to find the words in which to express my outraged feelings. After a few ineffectual gobbles, I resumed, ‘It’s what I was saying! There’s no discipline in this household. You three do just as you like, especially you, Adam. You disobey my orders, you eat my pasties. .’
‘Oh, for the sweet Virgin’s sake!’ Adela exclaimed impatiently, finally sitting down to her own breakfast. ‘I’ll make another batch this morning, I promise. There are still enough dried plums left from the autumn‘s picking. Just finish your meal, Roger, and get round to see John Carpenter. The sooner that shutter is mended the happier I shall be. The kitchen is freezing with all that cold November air coming in. Perhaps, while you’re out, you should report the matter to Richard, as well.’
‘He won’t be interested,’ I snorted. ‘It’ll be just one of a dozen such incidents to him.’ I stuffed the last chunk of bacon into my mouth and laid down my knife. ‘I’ll go and see John Carpenter right away.’ I wagged an admonitory finger at Adam. ‘And don’t think you’ve heard the last of this night’s escapade, my lad! I shall be speaking to you when I get back.’
I didn’t wait for his customary wide-eyed look of suffering innocence, but left the house immediately before I could be seduced by it.
I was lucky enough to find the carpenter still at home in St Leonard’s Lane, but only just. As I approached his door, it opened and he came out carrying his bag of tools.
‘You as well?’ he said when I had explained my errand. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a while, Roger. Lawyer Heathersett’s house and chambers were also broken into last night, but he wasn’t as fortunate as you. The thief managed to get in and, as far as I understand it, ransacked the place.’