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– really, what was wrong with her today? She just couldn’t keep her mind on her work! – and sat down, pulling towards her the great leather-bound ledger into which were inscribed details of everything and everybody coming into Hawkenlye Abbey, and everything and everybody going out again.
    She was totting up for the fourth time the amounts given away by Brother Firmin to itinerants calling at the Holy Shrine down in the Vale – she had arrived at a slightly different amount on each of the first three attempts – when there was a very soft knock on her door.
    Resisting the temptation to fling her quill across the room, instead Helewise laid it carefully down, folded her hands in her lap and said calmly, ‘Come in.’
    The door opened a fraction and the earnest face of Sister Ursel appeared in the gap. ‘You’re not asleep, then, Abbess?’ she whispered.
    ‘As you see, Sister Ursel, I am not.’ Helewise forced her features into an expression approximating welcome. ‘So there’s no need to whisper.’
    ‘Ah. No, no indeed.’
    ‘And do come in and close the door, Sister.’ Helewise’s smile was feeling increasingly like a rictus.
    ‘Oh. Ah. Yes.’ Sister Ursel did as she was told, closing the heavy door behind her with exaggerated care. Stepping forward, leaning towards Helewise, she said, ‘Now, how are you feeling, Abbess? Sister Euphemia said I wasn’t to tire you out by chatting, and not to come in at all if you were resting, only you’re not, so I can tell her it was all right to go in. Come in, I mean.’ She frowned. ‘Or is it go in? I—’
    ‘Sister Ursel?’ Helewise prompted gently. ‘You wanted to see me?’ Oh, dear, she thought, as well as a wandering mind, I’m presently cursed with a very short temper. Here’s poor old Ursel, doing her best to be kind and considerate, and here I sit wanting desperately to fling this wretched ledger at her … She made a mental note to make humble and contrite penance for being so uncharitable to a fellow sister, then gave Ursel an encouraging smile.
    Which, unfortunately, cannot have looked to Ursel as Helewise had wanted it to, since the porteress gave a muffled gasp and took a step back. ‘Abbess! Have you taken a turn for the worse? Should I fetch Sister Euphemia?’
    ‘No,’ Helewise said rather too firmly. ‘I am quite all right, Sister Ursel. Now, will you please tell me what you want of me before I— Well, just tell me.’
    Sister Ursel gave an injured sniff. ‘That Sir Josse’s outside,’ she said shortly. ‘Wants to know if he can come in to see you.’
    She muttered something that sounded like, wouldn’t bother if I was him, but Helewise, her spirits lightened immeasurably at the prospect of seeing her old friend, scarcely heard. ‘I’d love to see him!’ she said happily. ‘Send him straight in, please, Sister!’
    Josse, stomping into the room a few moments later, wore a cheerful, expectant grin. Which, on seeing Helewise, rapidly changed to an alarmed frown. ‘God’s boots, what have you done to yourself?’ he enquired, hurrying towards her, ignoring her outstretched hands and instead taking a firm grasp on her elbow and ushering her back to her chair. ‘Sit down, sit down! Before you fall down,’ he added with a grunt.
    ‘I am quite all right,’ Helewise said, for the second time in a very few minutes.
    Josse was staring down at her, still frowning. ‘You’re not,’ he stated. ‘I dare say your sisters allow you to tell them that you are, but I’m not going to join them in flattering your vanity.’ He came to lean on her table, bending down and putting his face close to hers. ‘You’ve had the fever, I would say, and you’ve got yourself up and gone back to work long before you should.’
    ‘But I—’ Helewise began.
    With a wave of his hand, Josse shut her up. ‘But nothing!’ He curled the hand into a first and thumped it down on the table. Helewise’s abandoned quill bounced up and fell on the