Ready for another? said Winander.
Hed pulled on a T-shirt with the inscription Love is an extra. She checked the can in her hand, found once more it was empty. Beer and toast just vanished in Illthwaite.
She caught the new can he sent flying toward her, crushed the old one in her hand and looked for somewhere to deposit it.
Chuck it in the corner, he said. Ill probably be able to sell it to some rich Yank. Now, Miss Flood, as youve made it pretty clear youre not interested in either my art or my body, what is it youve come for?
I told you before. I want to hear about my namesake. Look, lets not pussyfoot, you saw me find the inscription on the church wall. You were up the tower, right?
Chuck it in the corner, he said. Ill probably be able to sell it to some rich Yank. Now, Miss Flood, as youve made it pretty clear youre not interested in either my art or my body, what is it youve come for?
I told you before. I want to hear about my namesake. Look, lets not pussyfoot, you saw me find the inscription on the church wall. You were up the tower, right?
It was a guess but he didnt even argue.
Yes, I went up the ladder, partly because I dont attend religious ceremonies, also to check to see if there were any evidence of your claim to have heard someone up there.
Why didnt you just ask your Neanderthal chum? I was convinced Id just made a mistake till I realized in the pub there were two of them.
I did wonder. But you dont get far asking Laal questions he doesnt want to answer.
Laal? Thats what you called the one digging the grave, wasnt it? It cant have been him up there, must have been the other. Whats his name?
Winander took a suck of lager and said, Laal.
Theyve got the same name? Isnt it hard enough telling them apart anyway?
Impossible. Thats the point. But here in Skaddale we find a way of dealing with impossibilities. So the rule is, whichever one youre talking to is Laal, which incidentally means little. The other ones Girt, meaning big. But as you never talk to him, to all intent and purposes, he doesnt exist.
He cocked his head on one side as if expecting bewilderment, or at least dissent.
Instead, after a moments thought, she nodded vigorously.
I like it, she said. Its algebraic. And, paradoxically, even though its a device to counter the problem of differentiation, I presume they go along with it because to object would be to allow themselves to be differentiated?
He shook his head and said, Too subtle for me, Miss Flood. Im just a simple Cumbrian marra.
Dont know what that means exactly, but I know its a load of bull. You saw me read your inscription, Mr. Winander
My inscription? he interrupted.
Come on! she said. I recognized the style. It looks like half the inscriptions in the graveyard, and that fancy Italian stuff on your gatepost was the clincher. You saw me, and you decided youd better check me out, to see if I was going to kick up a blue about it or go quietly. Well, now you know. Im not going anywhere, and the only reason Im going to be quiet is so you can tell me what the hell this is all about. So start talking, Mr. Thor Winander, or I start yelling!
4. Alices journal
Miguel Madero was deep in the past.
He was a fast worker and within a very short time hed seen enough to make him feel enormously privileged to be allowed access to this material. There was stuff here which a lot of TV historians would have given their research assistants right hand for.
The octavo volumes were a combination of day-book and journal written over many years by that Alice Woollass whose name appeared on the date stone over the door. They required careful handling, the sheets having been sewn together, perhaps by Alice herself, and in many cases already either the thread had snapped or turned the hole in the dry paper to a tear. The leather cases were simply that, rectangles of animal skin cut to the size of the octavo sheets and folded round them for protection. Over the centuries the creases had become permanent. Part of Maderos mind deplored that nobody had ever thought to have the books properly bound, but another part was thrilled to be in contact with material exactly as its creator had left it. As he brushed his fingers over the sheets, he felt that his spirit was brushing against the spirit of the woman whod written them.
And it soon became clear she was a woman worth knowing.
The journal element was not continuous, for there were many periods of their life, such as childbirth (frequent), sickness (her own or a childs, also frequent), and other emergencies or periods of intense activity when the opportunity and/or energy for writing was not available. Often it consisted of little more than an aide-mémoire account of domestic events. But from time to time Alice found leisure to indulge in longer, more reflective passages which allowed insight into her thoughts and concerns and personality.
She was, Madero worked out, only eighteen when the house was built and she lived another sixty-two years, during which time she saw first her son, then her grandson become master of Illthwaite Hall, on each occasion relinquishing just sufficient of her domestic responsibilities to her daughter-in-law and grand-daughter-in-law to affirm their status without noticeably diluting her own overall authority.
The first journal started with the arrival of the Woollasses in their new house. From what Alice wrote it was clear that, her youth notwithstanding, shed been determined that her wishes and opinions about the layout of the building should be heard. In the journal she expressed her pleasure when she felt her desires had been met, but where theyd been ignored, she was vehement in complaint which she did not hesitate to pass on to her husband.
Yet she was no termagant bride, such as might make a man regret his folly in ever marrying. She was clearly proud of Edwins standing in the community, she admired the way he managed his affairs and his estate, she praised and joined in his many acts of charity, and, though this was no confessional diary, recording and analyzing the intimate details of a physical relationship, an early entry to our chamber betimes Jub. Deo suggested that she took as much pleasure as she gave in the marriage bed. Jub. Deo, which Madero read as a reference to the hundredth psalm which begins Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, was subsequently shortened to JD in its frequent appearances, the last of which was dated only a couple of days before Edwins death in April 1588.
This and other details he noted with a scholars eye as he did a rapid preliminary scan through the books. There was much material here for his thesis in the form of a vivid contemporary response, sometimes at a distance, sometimes uncomfortably close up, to the see-saw rise and fall of Catholic fortunes in the sixteenth century. Alice s delight in taking possession of her new home was clouded by news of the destruction of the countys monastic centers. The Priory at Illthwaite, like Calder Abbey to the west, was an offshoot of the great Cistercian Abbey of Furness. Its main claim to distinction was that it had in its keeping certain alleged relics of St. Ylf which were associated with several instances of miraculous healing. When news of Calders destruction reached the Hall, Alice prayed that Illthwaite, being much smaller, might be overlooked, but a few weeks later she recorded that Thomas Cromwells men had appeared, the Priory had been pillaged, its treasures destroyed or stolen, and its buildings razed to the ground save for the Stranger House, which the dissolvers had used as their lodging and stables.
Nor was there better news elsewhere. The dismantling of the great and powerful Abbey of Furness stone by stone was recorded with horror. A small cause for rejoicing was the news that the prayers of the locals in Cartmel had been answered and the church of the priory there was to be spared though the rest of the site was leveled. But generally it was a tale of woe and destruction.
He skipped over the early pages which recorded the Woollass mens participation in the 1536 Pilgrimage of Grace which had nearly cost Alice s brother-in-law, young Will, his head. She gave thanks to God when Mary came to the throne in 1553, but it said much for her humanity that she reacted to news of Protestants being burned at the stake with the same revulsion she had shown at assaults on her coreligionists.
Then in 1558, Elizabeth inherited the crown and the screws began to turn again. The anti-recusancy laws, first introduced during the brief reign of Edward, were reinforced and much more rigorously applied. And soon there began that great priest-hunt which was eventually to have such significance for the Woollass family.
Alice had few illusions about her wild young brother-in-law, describing him at the time of her marriage as a railing, mery rogue, fit for little save drinking and laiking; yet I cannot find it in my heart to dislike him!
Her delight in his marriage to Margaret Millgrove was unreserved. Her husband, however, had mixed feelings. It was in his eyes a low and unsuitable connection for a Woollass. Cloth merchants, he proclaimed, were little more than plebeian leeches feeding off the real work done by shepherds, shearers, landowners. On the other hand to get Will settled was much, and Edwin allowed his wife to persuade him into acceptance.
However, as the Millgroves prospered and rose in social status, their enthusiastic embracing of the Protestant faith soon provided another source of contention. The story hed heard from Southwell was all here, but from a much more personal perspective.
Alice deplored the growing rift between her husband and Will, and was active in encouraging the friendship between Simeon and her own sons, till Will accused the Illthwaite Woollasses of filling his boys head with treasonable matter and forbade the visits. Simeon obeyed, and Will eventually added distance to duty by sending his son as the firms agent first to Portsmouth, then to Spain.
Alice s journals now took Madero where Southwells researches had not been able to go.
When Will finally severed relations with Simeon, he commanded his wife to have no more correspondence with her son. Dutifully, she obeyed. But she had not been formally forbidden from communicating with her Illthwaite in-laws and through Alice she obtained news of Simeon, who had kept in close touch with his cousins.