The Spring Anthology ✔

Who Wants Dull?

Written by @Jane_Bishop

London, England, 1533

'Why am I here?' I mutter to myself for the fifteenth time as I reach out my arm to knock on the London door. I have never been to this part of London and I quickly understand why. Growing up on a fine estate in Shropshire, educated at Eton and then King's College Cambridge, working at the grandest court in all of England could never have prepared me for this. This- the life of the common Londoner: tightly packed houses, wet streets even after it has not rained for three weeks, rotting walls, shouts and screams of dirty drunkards and the most horrific smell! For all troubles and all my hatred, I am glad I do not have these men's.

The door opens and a short young man appears at the door, dressed in what are probably the best clothes he owns (although they are not overtly impressive). 'You must be Mr Hall. I'm Richard Grafton,' he announces eagerly, thrusting his hand in my direction for me to shake.I smile out of graciousness.

'Thank you, Mr Grafton. Did Sir William Aldridge,' I was speaking of a former teacher of mine at Cambridge and friend of the Mr Grafton before me, 'explain my purpose in coming here?'

He beckons me into his house. 'All he said was that you were taking a rather... nonconventional approach to writing a chronicle.'

I step inside and raise an eyebrow. 'I suppose.'

'He said you wanted a publisher to give you his word now and look after your manuscript when you die.'

'That is correct. Do you have a study?'

'Y-yes,' he stammers.

'Good. We will talk there. Will you do me the honour,' sarcasm is often the only thing I have that helps me survive this tedious life, 'of showing me.'

It gives me even greater amusement when people do not realise.

'Of course,' he mumbles awkwardly, ducking his head in what must be embarrassment.

We dash up the narrow staircase, that I am almost certain will collapse if any more weight it added to it. Then he opens another rickety door and ushers for me to go in first. 'I'm sorry. I assumed we would be in the front room so I did not think to tidy it. I do apologise.'I smirk. 'Untidiness gives me hope in this world,' I reply, trying to read his expression (to no avail). 'Everything these days is in perfect order. There is an exact structure and we must comply with it. My God, it gives me enough reason to hate this world of ours.'

He narrows his eyes. 'You are dissatisfied with your life, Mr Hall?' he questions.

I shrug my shoulders and look around the room. It is not as messy as Grafton claims it to be, which is a little disappointing. I was almost expecting complete chaos. However, there is one thing that catches my eye.

'You play chess, Grafton?' I ask pleasantly.He keeps a straight face. 'A little.'