Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [43]
There were Moors and Turks again, their ears studded with silver hoops. But there were other exotics too. An enormously fat woman who seemed ready to eat the little fellow she had perched on her lap. Two Chinamen, dressed in gorgeously ornate, jade-coloured robes, were standing by the fireplace, laughing and chattering in a high-pitched staccato. A black dwarf, his pudgy hands festooned with rings and silver bangles, was scuttling around the tables trying to sell his wares.
The tavern itself was crammed with cooking meats and slopping ale and Ben felt suddenly, ravenously hungry. The sweet smell of fresh bread and roast beef assailed his senses.
‘Welcome,’ said Ashdown with an elaborate bow.
‘Welcome to the Dolphin. The worst stew in all Amsterdam! , Ben couldn’t help grinning at his friend’s enthusiasm. He began to move forward, his feet crunching on the shattered eggs and empty mussel shells that littered the stone floor.
Sailors were grouped around every table, talking and cackling and making lewd gestures at the serving girls, who were struggling through, carrying foaming flagons of ale.
Ashdown clapped Ben on the shoulder. ‘What did I tell
‘ee?’ he said with a laugh. ‘There’s no finer place in all Europe!’
So saying, he threw himself bodily into the heaving crowd and was quickly swallowed up.
Ben smiled indulgently and fought his way to a table. It was already crowded but one stool remained free, possibly because its former occupant was lying in a drunken stupor on the filthy floor.
Ben sat down and tried to attract the attention of one of the girls. He almost shouted ‘Waitress!’ but then thought better of it.
What should he call them? Wenches? Or was that only in films?
He was spared further embarrassment by a tap on the shoulder from the woman sitting opposite him – a huge, big-bosomed figure in a stained green velvet coat. Her hair was long, black, and matted and she had an embroidered patch over one eye. In fact, she was so completely the image of a pirate that Ben almost laughed.
The strange woman smiled at him, showing off brown teeth like stained fence posts. Then Ben noticed something else, something curious about the woman’s nose. Peering closer through the haze of tobacco fumes, he realised with a start that the nose was made of silver and had been screwed tightly into the bone.
She let out a whoop of laughter and slammed her glass down on to the table.
‘Quite summat, ain’t she, mate?’
Ben looked a little worried. ‘Sorry?’
The woman tapped her nose, which made a bright, sharp clang like a bell. ‘This little beauty always gets people talking.
It’s a great conversation piece.’
‘Yes,’ said Ben, ‘I don’t wonder.’
The woman folded her arms and leaned forward conversationally. ‘Now, tell me. What would a pretty lad like you find here for his pleasure? There’s plenty of girls who’d see you right for a guilder. Or the odd ingle upstairs, if that’s your fancy.’
Ben did not understand but thought it best not to inquire further. He looked round, still anxious to find himself a drink.
‘I wouldn’t mind some beer to start with.’
‘Oh,’ said the woman flatly. She sounded so disappointed that Ben had not been excited by her list of the Dolphin’s wares that he turned back to her with a smile. ‘Sorry, love.
I’ve had a hard day, that’s all.’
‘They’re all hard, these days,’ said the woman philosophically. She extended a grubby hand. ‘Sal Winter, with the Demeter.’
Ben shook her hand. ‘Ben Jackson, with the Teazer.’
Winter frowned deeply and a flush rose in her thick skin, which had the unmistakable signs of black powder burns etched into it.
‘The Teazer?’ she growled. ‘You’re with the Pole’s ship?’
‘Captain Stanislaus, you mean?’ said Ben.
Winter nodded vigorously. ‘That’s the cove.’
She sank back into her chair and looked broodingly into her empty glass. Then she clicked her fingers and, at once, a girl was by her side, refilling the glass with a strong, amber-coloured ale.
Winter pointed at Ben and the girl fetched him a flagon of the same malty stuff.
‘You know him?’ asked Ben conversationally.