The Black Book of Secrets Part 11

Chapter Thirty.

Fragment from The Memoirs of Ludlow Fitch Perigoe's secret was the last one I wrote in the Black Book. The morning after her visit Joe sent me out for some bread. I greeted the bakers as usual, but their response was icy. Elias served me in silence and his eyes were shooting daggers. The oldest boy, who was behind the counter, couldn't even look at me. I bade them goodbye and left, wondering what I had done to offend them. As I stepped out of the door I saw the other two Sourdough brothers across the street. Usually they liked to walk with me, but today they ran away and watched from further down the hill. One of them threw a s...o...b..ll. It hit the side of my head and stung sharply. When I put my hand to the wound it came away b.l.o.o.d.y and I saw a small stone lying at my feet.

Suddenly the window above me opened and the next second a pail of freezing dirty water drenched me from head to foot. *That's right,' came a jeering voice. *Get back up the hill to your devil friend. We don't want you around here.' It was Ruby.

I broke into a run and raced back up to the shop, bursting through the door. I slammed it behind me and threw across the bolt.

*What happened?' asked Joe, noticing the blood on my face.

*I'm not sure,' I said, *but Elias wouldn't talk to me and Ruby threw a pail of water over my head.'

Joe looked puzzled. *For what reason?'

*I don't know,' I spluttered. *All I wanted was a loaf of bread.'

I peeled off my cloak and hung it in front of the fire. Joe was sitting, leaning forward with his hands clasped under his chin. I shook my dripping head and drops of water turned to steam on the burning logs.

*Did you know this was going to happen?' I asked. *Is it because of Jeremiah?'

*I don't know about Jeremiah,' said Joe slowly, *but I must say I expected something like this.'

*Why?'

*Because there is a fine line between grat.i.tude and resentment. Everyone is happy to accept my money a" they smile and say thank you, and go away and forget how badly off they were before I arrived. Then they come back looking for more.'

I was surprised at the bitterness in his voice. This wasn't the Joe I knew, who harboured no resentment, no ill-feeling, who took it all in his stride. It unsettled me to see this side to him.

*You sound as if this has happened before,' I said.

*It has, but usually I know why.'

*Well, whatever the reason, I think it's unfair,' I began, but at the same time Saluki suddenly started to croak loudly in the shop and the peace and quiet of the morning was violently interrupted by the sound of a riotous altercation in the street.

Joe leaped up and ran to the door, I followed him and together we hurried down the hill. The sight that greeted us, were it not for the seriousness of it, would have been quite ridiculous and more suited to the theatre. Jeremiah Ratchet and Horatio Cleaver were arguing, actually grappling with each other, in the middle of the street. And the cause of their disagreement? A turkey.

Joe's eyes sparkled. *It has begun,' he said.

As we approached the affray it became apparent what was going on.

*You'll not take any more of my meat, you thieving windbag!' shouted Horatio and the onlookers cheered. It seemed that the whole village had come out to watch: the Sourdoughs, Perigoe, Obadiah, Benjamin Tup, Job Wright, Lily Weaver, Dr Mouldered, Polly and even a few faces that were unfamiliar to me.

Ratchet said nothing, just planted his feet more firmly on the ground and pulled with all his might. He held the turkey's legs, Horatio had its head, and the poor dead creature was near torn in two. Jeremiah was purple with the effort and Horatio's cheeks were a similar shade.

The men were well matched: both stout and solid on the ground. Horatio was slightly taller, but whether this was an advantage or not on the icy street was debatable. The air was filled with cursing and swearing, spit and clouds of breath.

*It's my turkey!' shouted Jeremiah. *You owe me, Horatio.'

With one huge tug he managed to unbalance the butcher, who let go of the bird rather than fall over. Jeremiah, of course, fell instead and to have the turkey was no consolation for his loss of dignity as he spun on the ice three times before coming to a stop at Joe's feet.

The crowd cheered and laughed and clapped as Jeremiah struggled to stand. Only Joe held out his hand to help, but Jeremiah ignored it and took off home, still holding the limp bird.

*Good riddance,' shouted Elias Sourdough.

Jeremiah didn't look back. I was surprised. He was not the sort of man to let someone else have the last word.

Horatio came up to Joe in a state of great excitement about what he had just done. I had never thought to see this quiet man so elated.

*Did you see that, Joe?' He was breathing heavily and he was shaking. *I stood up to him. I told him he could take no more of my meat. Just like you said.'

He seemed to have forgotten that Jeremiah had the turkey.

He waited for Joe to answer, to pat him on the back, to congratulate him, but Joe said nothing. His face turned from grey to white and, for an instant only, anger flared in his eyes.

*I didn't say that,' he muttered. *I didn't say that at all.'

Job Wright, the blacksmith, stepped forward and his mouth was curled in a snarl.

*So,' he said, and his voice was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with sarcasm, *you've finally come to help us.'

*Ratchet's time will come,' said Joe simply. *All you have to do is wait. For now, can't you all be happy that your fortunes have changed?'

*But how long must we wait?' asked Obadiah. *You told me Jeremiah would feel the force of your justice.'

Horatio looked towards the crowd. *And he told me he'd give him what was coming to him.'

Then it was Perigoe's turn. *I've been to him too,' she said as loudly as she could, *and he said he'd make Jeremiah pay.'

*That's what he told me,' came another voice.

*And me,' said someone else. *But I thought I was the only one!'

*What are you talking about?' asked another and his neighbour (who had recently sold his own secret) immediately turned to him and began to tell him all about Joe's midnight confessional and the Black Book.

Suddenly everyone was talking at once as they realized exactly how many of their fellow villagers had secretly visited Joe Zabbidou at the stroke of twelve. Those who had been personally invited to the back room now felt cheated that it wasn't an exclusive service a" Joe really did know how to make people feel special a" and those who hadn't been invited felt cheated that they had not been considered worthy of the service. Whatever the individual's circ.u.mstances, the disgruntled crowd, who only moments ago were laughing at Jeremiah, turned united to Joe Zabbidou and fixed him with an icy glare. I looked at them all, their faces glowing in the cold, their narrow eyes focused on Joe. My palms were damp with cold sweat. These were no longer friendly faces and I was frightened.

Job Wright stood with his legs apart and his powerful arms crossed against his chest. In the absence of any other volunteer, he appeared to have taken on the role of village spokesman.

*So, Mr Zabbidou, what have you to say to that?'

The chattering stopped instantly. Seconds pa.s.sed and the silence strained at its seams and threatened to explode. I could see the muscles in Joe's jaw clenching and unclench-ing and he spoke through gritted teeth.

*I said none of those things. You have twisted my words, words I offered to comfort you.'

*Then what exactly did you say?' challenged the blacksmith.

*I said to be patient.' Joe looked around the scornful faces before settling on Perigoe and Horatio and Obadiah, who stood together in a nervous huddle. *Is that not the truth?'

At first no one answered.

Then Horatio nodded, shamefaced. *I think maybe you did say that,' he said quietly.

Perigoe and Obadiah reddened and nodded too, but Job wasn't so easily appeased.

*What is this nonsense?' he snorted loudly, slamming his fist into his open palm. *First you promise to help and now, when we ask for that help, you hide behind words. You are no better than Jeremiah Ratchet himself. In fact, you are worse. He at least does what he says.'

He turned around and addressed the mesmerized onlookers. Job had them hanging on his every word in a way Stirling Oliphaunt would never have been able. I could hardly believe how he had changed. He too had been in at midnight, like the rest of them, and taken the money and peace of mind gladly, but now he seemed intent on leading the village against us.

*Jeremiah Ratchet must be punished for what he has done to us,' Job declared. *We've waited long enough. We started without Joe Zabbidou and we'll finish without him.'

*Hear! hear!' said a voice from the back, and a deep rumble of approval rolled through the crowd.

*You don't understand,' said Joe, trying to make himself heard above the discontented mutterings. But he was wasting his time. No one was listening to him any more. All eyes were on Job. Now I was really scared, for me and for Joe. I could feel how angry they were. I wanted to shout at them, to tell them to listen, but no sound came from my mouth.

Job turned to Joe. *You come here,' he sneered. *You take our secrets and make false promises. Tell us, what are you going to do with those secrets? How many of us are in your debt?'

*I paid you for your secrets,' insisted Joe. *I kept my side of the bargain.'

Job pounced. *Aha, so it is about money. And is it not true you paid so much that even if we wanted them back, we couldn't afford them?'

*It was a fair exchange,' shouted Joe, by now weary and exasperated. *I never expected the money back.' Everyone was talking at once. *You know it is my business.'

Job came right up to him until their noses were almost touching.

*Business?' he laughed. *At last we are getting to the truth. Jeremiah Ratchet says he is a businessman. I see you two are no different.'

He turned and addressed the restless throng. *Maybe we are going after the wrong man. Maybe Jeremiah Ratchet and our good friend Joe Zabbidou here are in this together!'

I looked at the enraged faces before us and it was hard to believe that these were the same people who had once welcomed Joe with open arms. I could hear the words *liar' and *cheat' and I was incensed. I took a step forward, thinking I might be able to protect him, but Joe held me back.

*It is not like that,' he said. *I have told you no lies. I never promisa"'

But Joe couldn't finish because the crowd had turned against him. They began to boo and hiss.

Joe stood there in a daze, his arms hanging loosely by his side. People began to pelt him, with snow and gravel and anything they could find. I grabbed his hand and dragged him away. I knew we were in danger out here in the open. I looked back only once and to my dismay I saw Jeremiah Ratchet standing on his doorstep. His arms were folded across his chest and when he caught my eye he opened his mouth and began to laugh.

I locked up the shop and pulled down the blinds. We stayed inside for the rest of the day. I couldn't believe what had happened and I paced between the rooms, going over and over it in my head.

*How could they do this to you? After everything you've done for them.'

Joe sat calmly by the fire. He heard my rantings but didn't reply. He hardly said a word the entire afternoon, but I could tell that his mind was working furiously. What was he planning? Revenge on the village or revenge on Jeremiah? Surely it had to be one or the other. In my heart though, I knew it was neither. Revenge was not Joe's way.

Joe seemed to be talking to himself, rea.s.suring himself that he had done nothing wrong. *I have always paid a fair price,' he muttered. *When the deal is done, it is done and no one owes anyone. But still for these people it's not enough. They accused me of making false promises.'

*They misunderstood you,' I said.

He looked up at me. *I promised nothing. Jeremiah has no hold over me, but that doesn't mean I can do anything about him.' His face was screwed into a deep frown and his eyebrows were almost touching. *There are rules and I must obey them.'

*Rules? What rules?' I asked. But Joe was talking to himself again.

*I gave them money, far more than they deserved, and I told them to be patient. That is all. It is hardly a commitment. But now they treat me as if I have betrayed them. Why must it be in human nature to hear one thing but to believe that it is another?'

*Because we want things to get better,' I said. *Otherwise, we would all give up.'

Joe closed his eyes. *Dum spiro, spero,' he said. *While I breathe, I hope.'

Chapter Thirty-One.

The Reluctant Messenger Down at the Pickled Trout Benjamin Tup was struggling to cope with his customers' demands. He had never had to deal with a full tavern before and tonight the place was heaving with the villagers, some of whom, such as Perigoe Leafbinder, had never even been over the threshold. They sat and stood and leaned and perched on every available surface in a tight circle, somehow managing at the same time to hold on to a mug or a jug of ale. Job Wright was the only one who was reasonably comfortable, having taken centre stage on a rickety ale-stained table.

*Fellow villagers,' he boomed to the excited and slightly tipsy crowd, *I say the time has come to take back what is rightfully ours. You all saw Horatio this afternoon, a braver man I have never seen. The way he held on to that turkey is something I will not forget for the rest of my years.'

Horatio blushed at the praise and staggered under the slapping hands that rained down on his back. He covered his ears as deafening cheers rattled his brain.

*But this is only the beginning,' continued Job. *All this time we thought it was Jeremiah who was the source of our misfortune. But now we know, he is merely the lackey of Joe Zabbidou. Stirling was right, Joe is the devil and he is playing his evil games with us. Is there any one of us here who can say we are not in his debt?'

*We all owe him,' they shouted back. *Each and every one of us.'

*He had us fooled,' said Job grimly. *But it's not too late. We can still stop him.'

Only one voice dissented and that belonged to Polly. She jumped up on the table and stood in front of Job. The villagers were surprised into an uneasy silence.

*Don't listen to this,' she urged. *It's not Joe we have to worry about. It's Jeremiah. Joe helped you all. Why are you doing this to him?'

Some of the villagers, the more sober among them, murmured that Polly had a point.

*The girl's right,' said Lily Weaver. *Shouldn't we deal with Jeremiah first?'

Elias Sourdough then climbed up on to the table, which now shook alarmingly. *No,' he said. *It's Joe needs sorting. And if you want proof, listen to this.' He reached into his pocket and took out a piece of paper and read from it.

*If you wont to keepe yore seecret leve five s.h.i.+lins at the churche gattes tonite and I'll say nuffin.'

The crowd gasped.

*Yes,' said Elias, *a blackmail letter, left secretly in my shop, no doubt by Ludlow, and written by none other than Joe Zabbidou. And this is only the beginning. Who will be blackmailed next?'

The villagers needed no more convincing, and outside the tavern, hidden in the shadows, with his ear pressed up against the window, Jeremiah Ratchet also heard what Elias had to say. As he listened an ugly wet-lipped smirk spread across his fleshy cheeks. Now he knew everything.

Inside Polly's heart sank. I've got to tell Ludlow, she thought, creeping out of the tavern and darting away up the hill. She rapped loudly on the p.a.w.nbroker's door until Ludlow finally let her in and brought her through to the back room. Polly stood uncomfortably in front of the fire, twitching and wringing her hands. Her face was pale and she licked her lips nervously.

*What can I do for you, my dear?' asked Joe evenly.