‘My lord,’ the steward calls. ‘I’m bringing the sin eater to . . .’ His voice falters.

‘Then do it!’ Black Fingers says, sharp-like.

‘Yes, my lord.’ The steward nods and skirts around Black Fingers, eyes direct on the corridor ahead of him. Black Fingers remains where he stands, masking the woman he’s with, still in the alcove behind him. I see only her pale pink skirts as we pass.

We arrive at the door of the third fire victim. Mush Face stands against the wall in her plain wool dress, a basket in her hands.

‘Has the Queen’s physician gone, milady?’ the steward asks her.

Mush Face nods. ‘But none came to the door when I knocked.’

The steward steps up to the door and gives a loud rap. ‘Sin eater’s come!’

‘I’ve been waiting,’ Mush Face calls out. But it’s not the steward she’s speaking to. Behind us down the corridor comes Fair Hair. In a bright pink stomacher and pale pink kirtle. She was the one embracing Black Fingers.

‘I was looking for something to bring her comfort,’ Fair Hair says to Mush Face, raising a small basket of her own. She joins Mush Face by the door. Fair Hair’s stomacher, I notice, is too tight and her breasts are like rising dough pushing out of the open partlet at the top. She’s plumped up. I’m not the only one who seems to notice. Fair Hair wriggles under Mush Face’s gaze. ‘May we see her?’ She nods towards the door.

The steward coughs. ‘The sin eater’s been requested, milady.’

Fair Hair sighs. ‘Perhaps we should return later.’

‘Let’s wait,’ Mush Face says back, placing her basket against the wall outside the chamber.

The steward knocks again.

‘Is lavender or sage better for headaches?’ I hear Fair Hair ask Mush Face.

‘How would I know?’

‘You spent so much time with the old midwife,’ Fair Hair answers. ‘Or were you contemplating joining a trade so you could afford some new sleeves?’

A maid finally opens the chamber door. The steward gives a small nod and leaves down the passage. While the maid’s announcing me, I see Mush Face’s hands disappear into her wide sleeves, the only ones I’ve seen her wear. ‘Are you certain it’s your head that pains you?’ she says low to Fair Hair. ‘I heard it was your belly.’

Fair Hair hisses right back, ‘Perhaps you should watch what you say, lest you wind up with a witch’s pin in your cunny.’ I don’t let my step show my startlement, but I steal another small look at the two ladies as I go in. Fair Hair’s cheeks are as pink as her stomacher. Mush Face stares back at her with an odd look. Almost like respect.