I walked through the garden. The ash was losing its leaves, and autumn winds had already blown them towards the Scriptorium. I had to clear them from the doorway before going in.

It was cold, almost empty, except for the sorting table. The bondmaid slips were exactly where Lizzie and I had left them. I sat where Lizzie had sat moving the words around. She couldn’t read them, but she had understood them better than I had. I felt my pockets for the stub of a pencil and a blank slip.

BONDMAID

Bonded for life by love, devotion or obligation.

“I’ve been a bondmaid to you since you were small, Essymay, and I’ve been glad for every day of it.”

Lizzie Lester, 1915

I pulled the door of the Scriptorium shut and heard the sound of it echo into the almost-empty space inside. Just a shed, I thought, and walked back to where the three women were waiting.

“These are for Mr. Bradley,” I said, handing Elsie the bundle of slips. “Lizzie found them as we were cleaning up. They’re the missing bondmaid slips.”

For a moment, Elsie wasn’t sure what I was talking about, then the crease between her brows gave way to wide eyes. “Goodness,” she said, peering closely at the slips, not quite believing.

Rosfrith leaned in to look. “What a mystery that was,” she said.

“The top-slip doesn’t seem to be with them, unfortunately.” I gave Lizzie the quickest glance. “But there are some suggestions about how it might be defined. We thought Mr. Bradley would be glad to have them, after all this time.”

“I have no doubt that he will,” said Elsie. “But surely you can give them to him yourself?”

“I won’t be coming to the Old Ashmolean, Elsie. I’ve been offered a position at the Netley Hospital in Southampton. I think I’m going to take it.”

The trunk sat on the kitchen table. Lizzie and I sat either side of it, each holding a cup of tea.

“I think it should stay here,” I said. “My accommodation is temporary, and I don’t know when I’ll get something permanent.”

“Surely you’ll collect more words.”

I took a sip of tea and smiled. “Maybe not. I’ll be working with men who don’t speak.”

“But it’s your Dictionary of Lost Words!”

I thought about what was in the trunk. “It defines me, Lizzie. I wouldn’t know who I was without it. But as Da would have said, I have followed all avenues of enquiry and am satisfied I have enough for an accurate entry.”

“You’re not a word, Essymay.”