I stutter through the words to start the Recitation. ‘I haven’t much to recite,’ she begins. ‘I’ve been a poortempered, miserly sort. Quarrelled near enough to take me to Eve’s side. But I’m a good woman. Was good to my first husband, though he gave me no children.’ Her right hand is like a moth, hovering and trembling above the blanket. ‘And I was good to my second husband and our two babes, though Lee has the wit of a wood post, and many a day I’d like to trade Tom for a good milk cow.’ Bessie’s one working eye comes to rest on the far wall. ‘Wish I had spoke more of my mind. Went into marriage with my first husband as green as grass. You’ve likely not been with a man, unless you went to whoring after your da passed.’

I gasp at the bluntness of it. Her eye weaves over to me.

‘Thought not. You’re a scrapping sort. So you won’t know there’s many men don’t know which end’s up on a woman. The first time, my first husband nearly stuck his prick in my arse. He had no idea there was two holes, and I was too timid to tell him.’

A laugh burbles up through my tears.

Bessie clucks. ‘Always a laugh at a poor moment, you.’

I try to suck the laugh back in. But then she’s laughing too, out of the side of her face. My tears keep coming down. They are mixed with laughing at her story, but also at the thought of where we’ve both come to.

Bessie shakes her head awkwardly. ‘Wish I had done more of what I wanted and less of what’s right. Might have more delicious bits to recite.’ I’m startled into a hiccup. ‘Oh, now, you’re not still as starched up as you once were, are you?’ Bessie says. ‘With how you came into the world and what you’ve seen lately you should know, the more you live, the more the sinner and the sinless can’t be pulled apart. All of us just getting by.’

How I came into the world? My face shows my muddlement.

‘You must know by now your da wasn’t your true da. Your mother had a man before. Supposed to be highborn, your sire. Rich. Your mother’s folk, the Daffreys, went after him, as I recall. Tried to get coin to keep quiet about you.’ She looks me over with her one eye. ‘Oh, now, it surely can’t come as a surprise. You’re the very fruit of your mother’s tree. Two of you, like peas in a peasecod.’