The Midwife's Apprentice: Chapters 4–5

She hit upon the mystery of the sudden abundance of bread.

Curious about this unusual behavior, Beetle began to follow the midwife when she went on these errands, creeping behind trees and under fences, careful to keep out of sight, and the cat stalked along behind her, so they looked like a Corpus Christi Day procession on its way to the churchyard—the midwife, the girl, and the cat.

“By the bones of Saint Cuthbert, they have sent me a nitwit! You lackwit! No brain! You think to touch me!”

The summer sun, the press of the curious crowd, and the exertions of the reluctant mother-to-be warmed the room to the point that Beetle felt she was in Hell, being attacked by demons, and her screams joined the rest.

On her way back to the cottage, laden with newly washed clothes to spread in the sun, the midwife tripped over Walter the Blacksmith’s second-best pig and fell, left leg twisted beneath her.

The joy in Beetle’s heart warmed her insides and lit her face, even through the midwife’s ranting about lack of wit and the dire consequences if she were to lose the silver pennies or spend too much or come home with the wrong things.

To get to Gobnet-Under-Green, Beetle took the road north that followed the river, passed the mill, turned east at Steven the Fletcher’s cottage, cut across the abbey fields ablaze with the violet-blue flowers of the flax, turned north again at Barry-on-the-Birkenhead, then meandered easterly and northerly until it ended in the glory that was the Saint Swithin’s Day Fair in the market square of Gobnet-Under-Green.

To get to Gobnet-Under-Green, Beetle took the road north that followed the river, passed the mill, turned east at Steven the Fletcher’s cottage, cut across the abbey fields ablaze with the violet-blue flowers of the flax, turned north again at Barry-on-the-Birkenhead, then meandered easterly and northerly until it ended in the glory that was the Saint Swithin’s Day Fair in the market square of Gobnet-Under-Green.

When she arrived at the fair, she did not know whether her lightheadedness was from hunger in the sun or the thrill of being in the midst of such gaiety and color, and she did not care.

She passed through the forest of bright booths with flags and pennants flying, offering for sale every manner of wondrous thing—copper kettles, rubies and pearls, ivory tusks from mysterious animals, cinnamon and ginger from faraway lands, tin from Cornwall, and bright-green woollen cloth from Lincoln.

She laughed at the puppets, wondered at the soothsayers, applauded the singers, and cheered for the racing horses.

The merchant’s booth was also filled with sundry other wares for wondering at: shiny brass needles, ribbons of red and lavender, copper spoons and bronze knives, boots of fine red leather with embroidery on the toes, and combs of polished wood and ivory.

The merchant’s booth was also filled with sundry other wares for wondering at: shiny brass needles, ribbons of red and lavender, copper spoons and bronze knives, boots of fine red leather with embroidery on the toes, and combs of polished wood and ivory.

The merchant’s booth was also filled with sundry other wares for wondering at: shiny brass needles, ribbons of red and lavender, copper spoons and bronze knives, boots of fine red leather with embroidery on the toes, and combs of polished wood and ivory.

Although, or perhaps because, she was new at the bargaining game, Beetle handled it with such charming solemnity that the merchant took a fancy to the skinny young thing and, with a broad wink, threw the comb with the cat into the pack with the flasks.