Lamentation

We walked back under the stableyard arch into the street, and knocked at the door. Shuffling footsteps sounded within and the old man Vowell opened the door. His watery blue eyes widened with surprise at the sight of us, standing there in our robes. He bowed quickly. ‘Masters, I did not know you were coming, I have had no instructions. Is there to be another inspection?’

I realized from his words that he was unaware that I no longer represented Isabel. Philip replied amiably, ‘No, goodman, but there are some questions you might help us with.’

Vowell shook his head, obviously reluctant. ‘I do not know how I can help you. I was the late Mistress Cotterstoke’s servant all her life, but I knew nothing of her affairs. My only duty is to keep the house safe.’

I said, ‘We have both been eager to see whether there may be a way to resolve this dispute before it comes to court.’

‘Little chance of that,’ Vowell said sadly. ‘But come in, sirs.’

He led us to the parlour. I noticed the old lady’s half-finished embroidery still lay on its chair, facing the wall painting, and wondered if anything at all had been moved since she died. I looked at the picture. ‘That is a very fine piece of work. Were you here when it was painted?’

‘Yes, sir. I was little more than a boy then, but I remember thinking how lifelike it was. My late mistress, her first husband, and the two little children; all just as they were then. It saddens me to see it now, my mistress dead and the children at such odds.’ He looked at us, something wary in his eyes now.

‘I heard a story of the death of their stepfather,’ Philip said. ‘A sad tale.’ Philip related the old barrister’s story. As he spoke, the old servant’s posture seem to droop and tears came to his eyes. At the end he said, ‘May I sit, sirs?’

‘Of course,’ Philip said.

Vowell took a stool. ‘So you have learned that old story. I thought, with this new quarrel, it must come out sooner or later.’ He clenched his fists, looking down at the matting on the floor, then seemed to come to a decision.

‘Master Edward was eleven then, Mistress Isabel twelve. As children they were — not close. Both had proud natures, wanted their own way, and they often quarrelled. Their mother was often sharp with them too, I have to say. Though she was a good enough mistress, and she has provided for me in her Will — ’

‘Though the Will must be proved first,’ I said. Vowell would not get his legacy till then.

The old servant nodded and continued, ‘The children loved their father. When he died they were both so sad. I remember coming across them, crying in each other’s arms. It was the only time I saw that.’ He looked up at us. ‘Since my mistress died and this argument over the painting began, I have not known what to do or say. It has been a burden, sirs — ’

‘Then let us help you,’ Philip said quietly.

Vowell sighed deeply. ‘Mistress Johnson, as she was then, perhaps remarried too soon, only a year after Master Johnson died. But it was hard for her to keep the business going on her own, some people didn’t like trading with a woman, and the children were too young to help. But her new husband, Master Cotterstoke, he was a good man. My mistress knew that. The children, though — ’

I spoke quietly, remembering Barak and his mother. ‘Perhaps they thought it a betrayal?’

He looked up. ‘Yes. It was not — nice — to see them then. They would sit giggling and whispering together in corners, saying and doing — ’ he hesitated — ‘bad things.’

‘What sort of things?’ Philip asked.

‘Master Cotterstoke had a fine book of Roman poems, beautifully written and decorated — it was all done by hand; most books then were not these blocky printed things we have nowadays — and it disappeared. All the servants were set to look for it, but no one found it. And I remember the children watching us as we searched, smiling at each other. Other things of the master’s would go missing, too. I think the children were responsible. Yet Master Cotterstoke and especially the mistress thought it was us, careless servants. We always get the blame,’ he added bitterly.

‘The mistress and Master Cotterstoke were much preoccupied with each other then; the mistress had become pregnant. They barely noticed the children.’ He shook his head. ‘That angered them even more. I think Edward and Isabel had become much closer, united in their anger. Once I overheard them talking together on the stairs. Master Edward was saying they would be disinherited, everything would go to the new baby, their mother scarcely looked at them any more. . And then — ’

‘Go on,’ I urged gently.