3rd day of November, 1456
v. bad. Had whole sack of pig’s trotters, washed down with lashings and lashings of mead. Went for weigh-in on village green. Strong man told me I am still heavy. Gruel for a week and watered-down ale! I will be light again.
Calamity! Was humiliated in marketplace before Mr. D’Arsey. Tripped on rotten apples and swill and fell into arms of Willie Weaver who thrust me into maid’s dunking-seat for a lark. Soaked to titbits and sodden. Caught D'Arsey smirking, one eyebrow raised. Vow never to speak with him again…

5th day of November, 1456
v.v. bad. Cabbage soup diet failing. Anal draught. Have scurried to outhouse a dozen times. V. depressed re. D’Arsey spectacle in marketplace. Alehouse beckons. Tankards and tankards of ale led to fumbling and foraging with saucy rapscallion Weaver.
Will think I am strumpet! Bodice all ripped in romping! Must stop drinking mead…

6th day of November, 1456
Mother comes to visit. Tells me I look heavy. Asks if I am with childe. Asks about D’Arsey – says he is rare catch and £30 a year! I retort methinks he is a weasel. Am determined to wed afore the years end. Am most ancient singleton in village. Even No-Legs Mary is betrothed…Still v.heavy.

9th day of November, 1456
Happened across Willie Weaver frollicking with damn’d harlot Nell. Caught them mid-rut, ample arses and bosoms all a-tangled and heaving. Horrible! Vile cad and charlatan – scratched off husband list forthwith.
Will end up in poorhouse and never find a suitor!
Went to Pansy John’s for flagons of ale and sympathy. Love Pansy John. Wish he wooed wenches not queens…Barrels later, stumbl’d home to find D’Arsey on doorstep with big bunch dandelions! Said I looked winsome when wet and asked if he could tickle my fancy! And tickle he did!

10th day of November, 1456
All joy! Rosy cheek’d and merry. Hut smells of passion. Britches strewn on floor, tangled in corset…am walking like Lame Annie - hurrah! D’Arsey is taking me to witchburning this afternoon – so romantic! Tomorrow mini-break to fens in special straw-lined dog cart. Can’t wait.
V. light today. No mead, no trotters – am drunk on love juice and up the duff…To be wed on Sunday next. Now am complete.


Kate Rice

Susannah Thompson

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