Outside, the messengers are ready with their words, but I’ve errands to do first. I need a new shawl, a bit of chalk, a tallow candle, and some hay. And a pail of old piss.

At the market, the vendors are wary, but when I put my coins down, they give me space to take what I need. Shopping done, I make my way to the old earthen jail with an empty pail.

A new turnkey guards the cell. He jumps up at my arrival, looking side to side as if he might find the whys and wherefores there. I wait until he catches my meaning and unlocks the door.

I expect the women and girls inside all to scamper off to the four corners, but instead they do something astonishing. They crowd in.

A thick woman who smells like old hops comes right up to my shoulder. ‘Hear my Recitation, would you? I’m to hang at tomorrow’s dawn.’

‘I haven’t any coin,’ says a girl who can’t be more than twelve but has eyes much older. ‘But I’ll tell you where to scrump strawberries if you hear mine. There’s a goodwife never locks her garden gate.’

‘Elders first.’ An old body pushes through. ‘I’ve got the most sins, as I’m the longest lived. I should be first.’

In truth I’ve come for the pail of piss, but hearing their voices I can’t help but think how unjust it is that folk in jail aren’t allowed a Recitation. Once I would have said they weren’t goodly women and so didn’t deserve one. But what sense does that make? A Recitation is to cast off your sins, and who needs that more than jail folk?

There’s a skinny girl at the back of the crowd. Her brow is creased with worry, but she’s not pushing forward. I move towards her, the women giving way so as not to touch me.

‘The Unseen is now seen,’ I say to the skinny girl. ‘The Unheard is now heard. The sins of your flesh become the sins of mine to be borne to my grave in silence. Speak.’

Her voice won’t come at first. It starts and stops like a wheel stuck in a rut. But when it does come, it rolls out strong, stronger than you’d ever guess a skinny girl’s voice could. ‘I’ve such fury in my blood. I get enraged. And I do things I wish I didn’t.’