Virgin Earth

Friday, 26 January 1649

John and Frances walked together down to the Tower and then along the path beside the river.

“I might go and stay with Mother for a few days,” she said, looking out over the bright water.

“Why?” asked John. “Am I crowding you out?”

“I don’t want to be here when they do it,” she said.

For a moment he did not understand her. “Do what?”

“Behead him. They’ll do it here, won’t they? In the Tower? And put his head on Tower Bridge? I don’t want to see it. I know he’s been in the wrong, but I remember the day he came to the Ark and he was so handsome, and she was so pretty and dressed so richly. I don’t want to hear the drums roll and then stop for him.”

“I have to,” John said. “I feel I have to see the end of this.”

Frances nodded. “I think I’ll go and stay with Mother for a while when they start to build the scaffold.”