Chase the Morning

‘That takes time,’ she said, and the bitterness in her voice startled me, making what I felt trivial. ‘It took me long years, till I’d sloughed every last taint of my birth, left it lying behind me in the road. Till I was new-minted from my old metal.’

‘Where were you born, Mall?’ I asked gently, struggling to sort out what was taking shape.

She shrugged. ‘Find me my father and mother, and ask. Neither name nor face can I put to them. My first memory’s the bawdy-house where I was everybody’s child and nobody’s, being raised like fatstock for the coming trade. From that I fled as soon as ever I could; but it was not soon enough. For you now, though, it should not have been so ill.’

I shook my head, but in agreement. ‘It shouldn’t, I suppose. I wasn’t born rich, but we were never short of anything. I got on with my parents, they gave me a good education, I took an okay degree and I’ve done well in my job. Very well, so far. And that was because I gave up dreaming early on, settled for sensible ambitions instead. I began planning it all out while I was still in college, how I’d get on in business and then maybe move on to a career in politics, Parliament maybe or the European bunch – oh, not for any particular party or anything like that. Not ideals. Just as a natural progression, running things. I took that pretty seriously – still do. And I suppose I dreamed of living comfortably, independently, and I do; that came true, too. So far I’m on target. What else counts?’

‘You ask that of me?’ she said amusedly. ‘Many things, be you a man and not a straw-stuffed popinjay – or a Wolf. But a blind man on a blacker night than this could see you know that.’

‘All right!’ I admitted. ‘The human side. Love, if you must call it that. I’ve had plenty of girl-friends, but I just haven’t clicked with them – is that my fault? I’ve had lots of fun. I’ve got fond of them, serious even, but love – no, nobody. This last year or two I’ve been too busy, anyway; sinking myself in my job. Got to do a bit of that if you want to stay ahead. And in the long run, you know, it’s more satisfying – oh, except the physical bit,’ I added, seeing the look on her face. ‘But I get that when I want it.’

‘From whores,’ she said coolly. ‘Dolls, trulls, doxies –’

I began to get angry. ‘Don’t jump to bloody conclusions! Casually, okay! So what? You think that’s less honest than the dinners and gifts routine, the darling-I-love-you spiel when you both know it’s bullshit? Or just plain conning some stupid girl onto her back? I don’t. I’ve played that game; I got sick of it. But I don’t pay – hell, I’ve never had to! Well, hardly ever,’ I added, remembering business trips to Bangkok. ‘But that was just … playing tourist. Seeing the sights.’

‘Men buy with more than coin,’ she said quietly, when I’d petered out. ‘Believe me, I know! But I’m no canting Puritan. They’ll go a-whoring, your lads and lasses both; an ancient vice, and there’s many more terrible – unless it’s set in the place of something better. And by the Mass, Master Stephen, in you it is! You’ve never loved, you say? I give you the lie! For your own words do as much.’

I stared, and half laughed. ‘Hey, Mall, you can think what you damn well like –’

I stopped. Her long hand had landed on my shoulder, lightly but firmly, as I’d tried to get up. ‘Do you walk away from everything? From the plight of Clare you cannot. Why then from your own?’

‘So what makes it your business, anyhow?’ I parried, angrily.

‘Nothing,’ she said simply. ‘I claim no right to meddle, even to care. But when I’ve held a life in my swordhand I cannot help an interest in it thereafter.’

‘All right!’ I acknowledged, trying not to be annoyed by the reminder. ‘Maybe I was pretty keen on someone for a while. But no more. It wouldn’t have worked out, God knows!’

‘Hold, hold!’ Mall released me and ruffled my hair amusedly. ‘I only wish you to think, not tell me all your privy secrets. You may surprise yourself.’