THE AMELIA PROJECT – EPISODE 79 - JOAN

 

PIP

This episode is dedicated to our patron Helden Inkheart who will freeze to death after licking a lamppost in sub zero temperatures.

Helden Inkheart will reappear as a tourist guide in South Africa. Be like Helden and support the Amelia team on Patreon. Enjoy the show!

 

PROLOGUE.

 

GRAVEYARD IN MONTMARTRE. NIGHT.

 

ALVINA
Hey! What do you mean Mikhail never gives up? You think... he's still looking for you? For… For us?

INTERVIEWER
I don't want to talk about that clown. I mean that quite literally. Oleg told me he wears white makeup, baggy trousers and an oversized cravat.

(SHUDDERS)

 

ALVINA
Wait, I thought you said he had emerald eyes and a velvet suit?

INTERVIEWER
(QUIETLY) Yes.

ALVINA
What do you mean "yes"?

 

(SILENCE)

 

Look, I really think I should know more about this Mikhail, I mean if you really think he's still out there looking for -

INTERVIEWER

Not now.

ALVINA
But -

INTERVIEWER
Please! This is our time, Alvina. You and me. I mean, how often do we get that?

I'm having such a lovely time telling you my tales. Back at the office there's always a new story to chase, a new case file to read –

 

(ALVINA CLEARS HER THROAT OR DOES A SARCASTIC CHUCKLE)

 

(AUDIBLE INTERVIEWER EYEROLL)

 

INTERVIEWER (CON’T)
…a new death to fake. But sometimes, it's nice to stop and... you know... just reminisce. I mean - Leonardo! I hadn't thought about him for years, yet he was such a good friend!

ALVINA
(CHUCKLES) “Florenzing."

INTERVIEWER
(CHUCKLES) "Florenzing”, yes.

ALVINA
That reminds me, you said there was a story you wanted to tell me about -

INTERVIEWER
Ah yes! About a woman, a religious woman, a brave independent religious woman who fell foul of the authorities. Her name was Joan of -

ALVINA
- of Arc!

INTERVIEWER
- of Leeds!

ALVINA(OVERLAPPING)
What?

INTERVIEWER(OVERLAPPING)
What?

 

(ALVINA & INTERVIEWER LAUGH)

 

ALVINA

Did you say Joan of Leeds?

INTERVIEWER

Joan of Leeds, yes.

ALVINA
Are you sure you're not getting confused again? I was so sure you were going to tell me about Joan of -

INTERVIEWER
Well, I mean sure, I could tell you about Joan of Arc, but her story has received so much attention hasn't it? Joan of Leeds on the other hand I feel hasn't really - What are you doing?

ALVINA
Googling her.

(MUTTERS TO HERSELF)
Joan of Leeds...

 

(INTERVIEWER GRUMBLES)

 

Huh! She is a real person!

INTERVIEWER

Well of course she is a real person! I met her!

ALVINA

"Joan of Leeds, early 14th century, was an English nun, who-"

INTERVIEWER
Do you want me to tell you the story or the googly?

ALVINA
Sorry. I want you to tell me the story.

(AUDIBLE INTERVIEWER POUTING)

Please?

 

(PAUSE)

 

Tell me about Joan of Leeds.

INTERVIEWER
(APPEASED) Gladly.

 

 

(THEME TUNE.)

 

INTRO

The Amelia Project, created by Philip Thorne and Oystein Ulsberg Brager, with music and sound direction by Fredrik Baden, and sound design by Alexander Danner.

Episode 79 – Joan. 1318. Episode by Bob Raymonda.

 

INTERVIEW.

 

(THERE IS THE GENTLE HUM OF BIRDS TWEETING IN THE BACKGROUND AS THE CURTAIN OF A CONFESSIONAL BOOTH OPENS AND CLOSES. JOAN ENTERS AND SITS, IMPATIENTLY.)

 

THE INTERVIEWER
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Toast.

JOAN
I’m sorry… but did you just say Holy Toast?

THE INTERVIEWER
(EMBARRASSED BUT RUNNING WITH IT)
Uhm. Yes, that is how it goes, my child. Us Catholics, you know, we’re all about the bread. Yes, the Body of Christ, and all that.

JOAN
Right. I’ve grown up saying the Holy Ghost, but…

THE INTERVIEWER
Oh, of course. Let’s move past that, shall we? Please, continue.

JOAN
Forgive Me Father, for I have - (BREAKS OFF) Does it smell like fish in here?

THE INTERVIEWER
(UNCONVINCINGLY) Uh, no, I don’t think so, I can’t say that I’ve noticed.
(QUICKLY) You were saying?

JOAN
Sorry. Forgive Me Father, for I have sinned. It has been seven days since my last confession.

THE INTERVIEWER
And what brings you in today, my child?

JOAN
(SUSPICIOUS) Father Bartholomew, is that you?

INTERVIEWER
Uhm…

JOAN (CON’T)

Your voice sounds… different.

THE INTERVIEWER
No, Sister. Uhm. I’m afraid your usual priest is, ah, out sick today.

JOAN
Oh… right…

THE INTERVIEWER

He’s come down with quite a serious case of typhoid. I’ll be filling in for him in the meantime.

JOAN

How awful. Well, I’m… I will be sure to keep him in my prayers.

THE INTERVIEWER

I’m sure you will. Now, should we move on to your confession?

JOAN

Yes, uhm, of course, of course. Let’s see… I served myself a second helping of plum cobbler before I was sure that all the other sisters had had theirs first.

INTERVIEWER
Right.

JOAN (CON’T)

I took the Lord’s name in vain after dropping a bag of flour on my little toe…

INTERVIEWER
(QUIETLY) Understandable.

JOAN (CON’T)

…and I may or may not have had unkind thoughts about Abigail - the prioress.

THE INTERVIEWER

Really! Now, that sounds promising!

JOAN

Sorry wha-

THE INTERVIEWER

Sorry, I mean - what made your thoughts toward the Mother Superior so unkind? (CLEARS THROAT)

JOAN

…Father Bartholomew doesn’t typically ask for specifics.

THE INTERVIEWER

Right, uhm, Well every man of God has their own way of offering absolution, and I’m not one to gloss over the finer details before providing penance.

JOAN

He doesn’t typically comment on the quality of our sins either…

THE INTERVIEWER

Of course. I always find that adjectives are the most useful parts of any conversation with God.

JOAN

What did you say your name was again, Father…?

THE INTERVIEWER

Brother… John.

JOAN
It’s a pleasure to meet you, “Brother John”. And while I appreciate your desire for the finer details of my transgressions, I’ve been a part of this convent long enough to know a fraud when I see one. What are you really doing here?

INTERVIEWER
Uhm…

JOAN

And what have you done to dear old Father Bartholomew?

THE INTERVIEWER
Now hang on – just a-

JOAN

I don’t know what you think you’ll get from me in this booth, but I assure you, Brother John, this voice can carry quite a bit further than you might expect!

THE INTERVIEWER
Now, Joan! Please! Stay calm!

 

BEAT.

 

JOAN

How do you know my name?

INTERVIEWER

Uhm…

JOAN
Who are you, Brother John? Some kind of pervert, who gets his jollies off listening to young women recount their sins?

INTERVIEWER
(OFFENDED) No!

JOAN

I know all about men like you.

THE INTERVIEWER

All you need to know is that I’m a friend.

JOAN

A friend?

THE INTERVIEWER

Yes! A friend who’s heard many a tale about the kind of woman you are, and the kind of life you’d rather be living than the one that was forced on you.

JOAN

I have a hard time considering someone who’s come to me with a false identity as a friend. At least tell me your true name.

THE INTERVIEWER

In my line of work, a name is a tool you use to get you from one job to the next. No more, no less.

JOAN

And what line of work is that, then, Brother?

THE INTERVIEWER

Well, I am glad you asked. (PROUDLY) I am one of the founding members of an organization whose principal mission is to offer our patrons something they can’t find anywhere else: a new life.

JOAN

A new life?

THE INTERVIEWER

(PROUDLY) Yes!

JOAN

How?

THE INTERVIEWER

Well. You pegged me for a fraud, well: Fraud is my business and my pride! We create fraudulent deaths, and fabulous fabricated new identities!

JOAN

Huh. So, what are you doing here?

THE INTERVIEWER

What do you think?

JOAN

I have no idea.

THE INTERVIEWER

Oh, I think you do.

 

(PAUSE)

 

THE INTERVIEWER

The Lord has sent me here today to offer my help.

JOAN

I appreciate the offer…

INTERVIEWER
Hm?

JOAN

…but don’t need it.

THE INTERVIEWER

Alright. Have it your way.

JOAN

But since you have peaked my curiosity – I’ll humour you. Your services… I assume they come at a cost.

THE INTERVIEWER

Oh, yes. We’re- we’re not cheap. Dying isn’t free, neither is procuring a new life.

JOAN

So even if you do, as you say, know all about the kind of woman I am and the kind of life I’d rather be living… why would you ever consider helping me? You do understand that I’ve taken a vow of poverty, for the rest of my life, yeah?

THE INTERVIEWER

Yes, yes but you see, my partner and I, we do like the occasional challenge. We’re still in the black from our last three gigs, so we can afford to do the kind of pro bono work necessary for a case like yours. Plus, there are other forms of payment than silver and gold.

JOAN

Like what? Cattle? Jewellery? Land?

INTERVIEWER
Sometimes.

JOAN

I have none of those either.

THE INTERVIEWER

We want nothing so banal from you, my dear. You see, I traffic in stories.

JOAN

Stories?

THE INTERVIEWER

Yes, stories. The kinds of stories we tell ourselves to force us out of bed in the morning, the stories we shape in order to coax a lover into our arms, a weaver into crafting a tapestry in our visage, or maybe just convincing a barkeep to surrender a free flagon of ale. Living a life like mine? You eventually find it’s the only currency that’s really even worth a damn.

JOAN

(CAUTIOUS, BUT INTERESTED) SO ALL YOU WANT IS MY… STORY?

THE INTERVIEWER

Yes.

JOAN

Why not… Where should I start?

THE INTERVIEWER

Wherever you’d like! Why not start with those unkind thoughts you mentioned earlier?

JOAN

(SCOFFS) Nothing as… scandalous as you’re probably imagining. It’s just…

INTERVIEWER
Yes?

JOAN (CON’T)

…well, Mother Superior – (WITH DISDAIN) Abigail - has this terrible tendency to put on her turn shoes without remembering to buckle them. And everywhere she walks, whether she’s out tending to the garden, or hovering over the sisters in the kitchen so she can taste test their mutton stew, the straps dangle out all over the place. How she hasn’t tripped over by now is quite frankly a miracle. And sometimes… when she passes me in the hall, I imagine what it’d be like to “accidentally” step on them. You know, to send her for a gentle tumble down the stairs?

THE INTERVIEWER

Oh my. I take it Sister Abigail isn’t your favourite person in the convent?

JOAN

(LAUGHS) No.

 

(THE INTERVIEWER WAITS. NOTHING).

 

THE INTERVIEWER

Please. Elaborate.

JOAN

Sister Abigail…York’s Prioress… She’s… an old friend of my mother’s. We’ve known each other for a long time, long before I came here. In fact, if it hadn’t been for her meddling, I would never have come to this convent in the first place.

THE INTERVIEWER

Oh well! See! This is already getting interesting. Please, do continue. Go as far back as you’d like, I haven’t got anywhere else to be today, and I’ve assured the Mother Superior that I will be reporting back to her after a thorough confession.

 

(JOAN TALKS OVER THE INTERVIEWER’S PROTESTS IN THE FOLLOWING)

 

JOAN

She sent you?

THE INTERVIEWER

What, no, of course not.

JOAN

(OVERLAPPING, GETTING LOUDER WTH EACH WORD) Abigail sent you to spy on me?!

THE INTERVIEWER

No -

JOAN

Or are you just making that up to intimidate me? I knew you were a creep – I knew it! Oh, this is it – I’m done with this!

 

(JOAN GETS UP TO LEAVE, RIPS THE CURTAIN OPEN. SPATIAL REVERB OF THE CHURCH)

 

THE INTERVIEWER

(overlapping) No, no, no, Joan! You misunderstand! Joan, please! Just listen for a second - please don’t leave – please stay!

JOAN

You are not forcing me to stay here you weasel!

 

(JOAN BURSTS OUT OF THE BOOTH AND THE INTERVIEWER FOLLOWS.)

 

THE INTERVIEWER

No, no! No! Joan! I’m your friend!

JOAN

You are not my friend you’re a charlatan, you’re a - (CATCHES SIGHT OF HIM) you’re a -fish- (SURPRISED) fisherman? Why are you dressed like a fisherman?

THE INTERVIEWER

(FLAILING) The Lord said: Judge not according to the outer appearance, but -

JOAN

Answer me!

THE INTERVIEWER

(DESPERATELY) Jesus said: Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men -

JOAN

Oh, stop it! (IN DISGUST) “Brother John!”

THE INTERVIEWER

(WHISPERS) I told you, I traffic in new identities!

JOAN

Ha! Clearly not very successfully.

THE INTERVIEWER

(OFFENDED) What?

JOAN

You might at least have put a little effort into your disguise!

THE INTERVIEWER

I am wearing a crucifix…

JOAN

Over a fisherman’s cape. You’re wearing fisherman’s boots. A fisherman’s… smell.

THE INTERVIEWER

Look, I had to come straight from Whitby where I helped the entire crew of a whaling vessel -

JOAN

Remember what I said about my voice?

THE INTERVIEWER

No, please Joan -

JOAN

(SCREAMING)

HEELP! HEEEEELP! THERE’S A PERVERT IN THE CONFESSIONAL!!!

THE INTERVIEWER

(EXASPERATED) Sarah sent me! Sarah sent me!

JOAN

(SOFTLY) Sarah sent you?

THE INTERVIEWER

Yes. Me being here, you have your Sarah to thank for that.

JOAN

You know Sarah?

THE INTERVIEWER

I know many people. Sarah just so happens to be one of them.

THE INTERVIEWER

Can we return to the booth now? It affords more privacy.

JOAN

Should’ve said that at the start.   

 

(THEY SETTLE BACK IN THE BOOTH AND DRAW THE CURTAINS.)

 

THE INTERVIEWER

You trust me now?

JOAN

If Sarah trusts you then so do I.

THE INTERVIEWER

Good.

JOAN

Though I must say, I still find this all very…

THE INTERVIEWER

Fishy?

JOAN

(CHUCKLES) Yeah.

THE INTERVIEWER

Joan, when you realized Sarah had sent me, you said “Thank the Lord”…

JOAN

Yeah?

THE INTERVIEWER

I have to be honest, people in your situation don’t typically have a whole lot to thank the Lord for. I’m surprised to hear that you’ve retained your faith through this ordeal.

JOAN

There is little in the scripture, as it was originally written, that truly discourages a person from loving whoever they wanna love. That came later, and not from the Holy Father’s word, but man’s. For men are fragile little creatures who love nothing more than to set fire to all that they don’t understand. No… My relationship with our creator is strong because of this ordeal. I am comfortable knowing that He loves me despite what people like Sister Abigail have to say about my beliefs.

THE INTERVIEWER

That’s refreshing. I only wish I could have that kind of optimism… but when you’ve seen all that I have… it becomes harder to stay so firm in ones convictions. So what, then, does Sister Abigail have to say about who you are?

 

(SOMEWHERE ABOVE THEM, THE CHURCH BELLS CHIME THREE TIMES.)

 

JOAN

The Mother Superior was the only nursemaid at my mother’s side the night that I was born, twenty-seven summers ago, under a brilliant array of stars, apparently. Father was away, doing Lord knows what – well, baking probably - but Mother didn’t mind. She was always happier with Abigail at her side anyway. She said it made her feel closer to God than Father ever had, and that that closeness is what helped bring me into this world healthy and strong.

THE INTERVIEWER

So you and Abigail really do go way back.

JOAN

Yes.

THE INTERVIEWER

Now, please forgive me, but I’m not seeing any disapproval here.

JOAN

That came later, I just thought I’d start at the beginning, no?

THE INTERVIEWER

It’s your story Joan, I’m just here to listen.

JOAN

Abigail wasn’t always the stern and hard woman that I know today. In fact, she was one of the most reliable fixtures of my childhood. She was just a young, devout sister who loved God and her responsibilities in our community. Like. She’d regularly pay visits to our ailing neighbours, in order to offer them healing salves, and she always made time to stop by our house for a visit. She taught me how to play naughts and crosses, and helped mother tame my wild hair, which according to them, was always two brambles away from turning into a whole briar patch.

THE INTERVIEWER

It sounds like there was a lot of love in your childhood.

JOAN

Yeah. There was. We didn’t have a lot, but we didn’t need it either. Father was the village baker, and so he left before sunrise each day and didn’t come home until sundown, smelling of freshly made bread. And though there weren’t many other children around for me to play with, there was Reggie.

THE INTERVIEWER

Reggie…

JOAN

His father owned the farm which supplied my father with flour, milk, and endless eggs from their chickens. Reggie was two years my senior, so he always knew the best ways to get into trouble around the village. Whether that was stealing the pies his mother made to sell at the market, or spiriting away bottles from the local wine maker.

THE INTERVIEWER

I must say, I didn’t expect a Reggie to show up in this story. A Rachel maybe or a Regina. But Reggie?

JOAN

I think you misunderstand the nature of our relationship…

INTERVIEWER
Ah.
JOAN (CON’T)
…although I can’t blame you. Everyone else did too. As we grew up, as our bodies grew lankier and less easy to predict, our parents came to the conclusion that Reggie and I would one day be married.

THE INTERVIEWER

Huh.

JOAN
They never quite agreed on whether it was the farm or the bakery Reggie would be taking over, but they were convinced that we’d make a fine pairing. And that I’d bear buckets of beautiful grandchildren.

THE INTERVIEWER

But… that was never in the cards for you, now, was it?

JOAN

We didn’t love each other in that way. No, we loved each other because we understood each other. We saw, in the other’s eyes, a reflection of our own selves and the secrets we found too terrifying to confront. We found some solace in knowing one another’s secrets. We figured we could play pretend for our families’ sakes. Maybe have a child or two, to keep them out of our hair and continue to live as our true selves in the comfort of our own homes. But of course, that was all before we’d ever taken any actions toward our innermost desires. Up until that point, it was just hushed conversations among the late-night songs of crooning crickets, wondering about what it could be like to truly love the kind of person we knew we wanted to love.

 

BEAT.

 

Then, we met Matilda and Simon.

THE INTERVIEWER

Matilda and Simon…

JOAN

They were a set of golden-haired twins who had only recently moved to the village.

Reggie and I began to spend our nights wandering the fields and meadows with them, and we realized they shared our… feelings. It honestly felt wonderful, and before long we came up with a scheme: Reggie would show interest in Matilda, and I would show interest in Simon. We would do our best to convince our parents that these were the unions we saw for ourselves. All the while stealing away with our real, true loves at night.

THE INTERVIEWER

I’m sure it felt like the perfect solution to an impossible equation.

JOAN

Simon and Matilda’s father was the new blacksmith, and the two new unions seemed beneficial for all three families. The wedding planning they’d been doing continued, but now it was to be a grand celebration that would culminate in all four of us being married together all at once.

It would have been everything: we’d have built homes next to one another, and grown old together. No one would have questioned our closeness, because of the bond that the twins had shared since birth. They’d have just assumed that we were in-laws, bound by our love for our growing family. It would’ve been… it would’ve been exactly what I wanted out of this life. And nary a stray eye could take that away from me.

THE INTERVIEWER

Until?

JOAN

Matilda and I? At the time, I liked to think that the two of us were more careful, but the true fact of the matter is that the people in our village just don’t pay attention to two young girls. It’s considered normal for young women to be close: to be seen traipsing about town with their fingers intertwined. No one would bat an eye at that. But Simon and Reggie didn’t have it so easy. They were boys… no, men. Who were expected to be rough, and strong, and withhold their emotions in favour of stoicism. To go about the village flexing their well-defined muscles, earned from hard labour. It wasn’t so simple for the two of them to slip through the cracks, right in front of everybody’s faces.

THE INTERVIEWER

I’ve known many Simons and Reggies in my time.

JOAN

Have you watched them die, as well?

THE INTERVIEWER

Yes..

JOAN

Then I take it they weren’t clients? Their deaths… were they real?

THE INTERVIEWER

There have been a lucky few over the years that we were able to spare from such cruelty… but not nearly as many as my partner and I would have liked.

JOAN

You’re doing God’s work, you know that? Saving anyone you can from that kind of monstrous persecution.

THE INTERVIEWER

(SADLY) I do my best… you know, you can skip over this next part, if you’d like. I would certainly understand, and it wouldn’t do anything to affect the outcome of our conversation. I can promise you that.

JOAN

No… it’s been so many years since I’ve been able to think about any of this. It’s important that I say it out loud, so long as that’s okay with you?

THE INTERVIEWER

Of course. I’m always happy to bear witness to a client’s life: warts and all.

JOAN

It happened during Hocktide. All of our parents were busy, preparing goods to be sold during the festival. We had to help them too, but in the evening, after the wares were passed out and the dances were danced and we’d spirited away all the spare flagons of ale we could, we found ourselves back at Reggie’s farm. Matilda and I were lying in the grass, staring at the constellations in the sky, as the boys disappeared to do whatever it is that boys like them do, tussling in the hay, fumbling with one another’s belt buckles. When the worst thing imaginable happened.

INTERVIEWER
(SOFTLY) No.

JOAN (CON’T)

Reggie’s father came home early, and caught them, limbs all twisted, like if they hadn’t held onto each other for dear life, they might have floated right off into the sky.

THE INTERVIEWER
That can’t have ended well.

 

(THUNDER CLAPS ABOVE. RAIN SLOWLY FADES UP WHILE JOAN TALKS – OR IS IT FLAMES?)

 

JOAN

He was drunk and bellowed hellfire. Chased Matilda and I off of his property with a pitchfork, before dragging Simon and his son by the ears directly to the town square. The archbishop was in town for the Hocktide festivities, and they were forced to confess their sins to him in front of God and everyone they knew. There was no trial. And those boys? They were to be made an example of, right there, for everyone to see. Tossed, screaming and crying, into the festival’s blazing bonfire as they begged for their mothers’ mercy.

 

(BRIEFLY, WE HEAR THE SOUNDS OF A ROARING BONFIRE. IT SLOWLY AND BECOMES THE CAMPFIRE.)

 

FIELD IN SCOTLAND.

 

MIA

Jesus.

KOZLOWSKI

I am afraid I did warn you that this story was not for the faint of heart.

JACKIE

You weren’t kidding.

KOZLOWSKI

If only I was. But if you are both still willing to hear the rest, I promise it has a happy ending.

MIA

You can’t be serious. There’s no coming back from something like that.

JACKIE

I have no idea how she’d find the strength to keep going.

KOZLOWSKI

Resilience is a skill we learn to spite the ones who’d happily see us burned at the stake. And Joan? (CHUCKLES) She was nothing if not resilient.

 

 

CONFESSIONAL.

 

THE INTERVIEWER
I take it this is where the Mother Superior reenters the picture?

JOAN
It is indeed.

INTERVIEWER

(SOFTLY) Yes…

JOAN (CON’T)

Abigail had never fully disappeared from our lives, though after she had worked her way up in the convent her visits had become less frequent. But that next day? After I had sat all night in the village square watching two of my best friends turned into nothing but ash and soot, long after the rest of the town had already gone home? She appeared. And after the briefest of conversations with my parents, my fate was sealed. Matilda and her family had already left, under the cover of night, for another town where they could start over without this stain on their reputation. And I was headed for the convent, to take a vow of chastity and destitution.

THE INTERVIEWER

What were those first few years in the convent like?

JOAN

Abigail had me doing the worst of the worst tasks. Mucking out the stables, peeling a thousand potatoes, or scrubbing the entire floor with nothing but a hand brush, only to have a single spot of dust appear, so she could make me start all over.

THE INTERVIEWER

It must have been tough. Especially after what was, for the most part, such an idyllic childhood.

JOAN

It was… but it was all that I had. Eventually, it got a little better. And while I never saw Matilda again, there was a Hannah. And a Louise. And a Beatrix… now she was my favourite. These were all sisters that had been punted to our convent because they couldn’t be easily married off.

THE INTERVIEWER

Ah. I’m surprised the Mother Superior has allowed you so many dalliances over the years. I would have thought she’d have worked harder to prevent them.

JOAN

She’s done all she can to stop me from seeking out joy in this listless profession. First engaging our other… less adventurous sisters to spy on me, then outright transferring my flings to other convents entire countries away. But I’ve always found ways to have my fun. And she’s always been too faithful to her friendship with my mother to send me away.

THE INTERVIEWER

It’s funny, what we’ll do to protect the people that we love.

JOAN

Love? (SCOFFS) I’d hardly call that controlling wench capable of love.

THE INTERVIEWER

Then what happened?

JOAN

Sarah happened. But I thought she sent you? I imagine she’s explained this already.

THE INTERVIEWER

I would like to hear it from you.

JOAN

(SUDDENLY STARRY EYED) Sarah. My sweet, beautiful Sarah. With skin like warm milk and black hair as wild as the forests. I first saw her whilst I peddled our convent’s strawberry jams at one of York’s farmers' markets. She took my breath away. Not since Matilda had a woman made me feel like this. Like a girl again. Excited to walk hand in hand among the stars, whispering my innermost desires into her ears just to see the gooseflesh rise on the back of her neck.

THE INTERVIEWER

Surely Abigail has tried to keep you apart?

JOAN

That’s the thing. She can’t send Sarah away like she did with the others, because Sarah isn’t a nun. She’s engaged to be married to a knight who lives in Beverly. Abigail has granted me this dalliance… because she knows that it’s temporary. After Sarah is wed, she’ll move away from here and no longer be a “problem” in Abigail’s eyes. But that isn’t good enough for me.

THE INTERVIEWER

Indeed.

JOAN

(DEFEATED) So, Mr. Death Faker, now that you’ve heard my story… what do you suggest I do?

THE INTERVIEWER

I have oodles of ideas on how I’d get you out of this pickle. But Sarah tells me you’ve got a plan of your own cooking…

JOAN

She told you that?

THE INTERVIEWER

Why don’t we compare notes and I’ll let you know if I see any flaws in your design.

JOAN

It’s rather simple, actually…

THE INTERVIEWER

The best deaths often are.

JOAN

(NERVOUSLY) I… I haven’t talked about this to anyone but Sarah and Constance…

THE INTERVIEWER

Constance?

JOAN

Constance is a sister fifteen years my senior, we’ve worked together in the kitchen for years now. She knows and accepts who I am and has already arranged to have a funeral shroud brought in with our next grocery delivery.

THE INTERVIEWER

A funeral shroud, I see…

JOAN

And I’ve got a few tricks up my own sleeve as well. I’m a talented seamstress, so I’ve made a dummy my size stuffed with dirt and straw and tucked it under my bed.

THE INTERVIEWER

Well fry me like a kipper! Have you thought about the weight?

JOAN

The weight?

THE INTERVIEWER

Along with the dirt and straw I advise you to fill that dummy up with rocks. You wouldn’t believe how much a body weighs once it becomes floppy and the arms and legs start dangling. Bloody nuisance. I mean, my back is in agony after transporting a corpse from Helmsley cemetery to Pickering Castle last night. I’m getting too old for this… need to recruit new henchmen…

JOAN

Rocks. Noted.

THE INTERVIEWER

Yes, sorry, slight digression. Continue.

JOAN

Constance and I will stuff the dummy into the shroud under the cover of darkness. She’ll tell Abigail and the other sisters that I passed in the night, and that she’s already prepared me for a funeral because of our close kinship.

THE INTERVIEWER

Constance works in the kitchen you say?

JOAN

Yes.

THE INTERVIEWER

Good. Tell her to rub onions into her eyes before she breaks the news to Abigail and the sisters.

JOAN

Good idea! And then I’ll be free to go and finally live my own life, away from this wretched place and all its terrible memories.

THE INTERVIEWER

Well, I must say, I’m impressed.

JOAN

(PROUDLY) You are?

THE INTERVIEWER

I would love to say that my colleague and I would do things differently, or in a manner that would make yours look like child's play… but to be honest, you have a simple, solid plan. I like it.

JOAN

Thank you.

THE INTERVIEWER

Tell me though, Joan of Leeds… how can you be so sure that going only as far as Beverly will be enough? I mean, what will you tell the new townsfolk about your relationship with Sarah?

JOAN

That’s the best part.

THE INTERVIEWER

Oh?

JOAN

Sarah’s betrothed… he’s…

INTERVIEWER
Yes?

JOAN

Well. He’s like us.

INTERVIEWER
(INTRIGUED) Oh!

JOAN

And he has a love of his own in his squire, Richard. The two will be off, fighting the king’s wars, while Sarah stays home to tend to their eventual children. And me? Well, I’ll be her widowed cousin. Who came to live in their homestead in exchange for help around the house. I’ll have my own quarters, with a bed and a dresser and even a small shelf where I can collect whatever trinkets I want. And every single night that I want to look up at the sky, in the arms of my love? She’ll be just across the hallway. And we’ll be free to embrace for as long as we desire.

THE INTERVIEWER

The perfect place for a woman like you to live out her days! And know this: from one professional to another, you’re making the right decision. There is always another life out there, for anyone who’s willing to put in the work to create it. A better one, where you can be true to yourself, and to the people around you.

JOAN

Thank you, Brother John. Or whatever your name is.

THE INTERVIEWER

Well, then. Joan. It was wonderful meeting you. Thank you so much, for sharing your story. I wish you nothing but luck in your future. You deserve to live a life full of joy… and I’m glad you’re taking the necessary steps to do so.

JOAN

It was good to get all that off my chest.

THE INTERVIEWER

Hm! Now, before I bid you adieu, might I interest you in a toast?

JOAN

Not if it’s the Holy kind. I’ve had quite enough of that in my time here.

THE INTERVIEWER

(CHUCKLING) No, no. We can skip out on both the body and the blood of Christ.. I have a delightful bottle of mead-

JOAN

You have that tucked under your cape?

 

(THE INTERVIEWER FUSSES WITH HIS CLOAK IN ORDER TO PROCURE A BOTTLE AND UNCORKS IT. HE PROCEEDS TO REVEAL TWO CUPS.)

 

THE INTERVIEWER

Oh yes! I never travel without a bottle of something… And a few cups… Oh - But I’m afraid to admit I didn’t quite consider the logistics of this exchange.

JOAN

(KNOWING) Well then, it’s a good thing you’ve got an actual woman of God here with you, isn’t it?

 

(JOAN UNDOES A LATCH, WHICH ALLOWS HER TO MOVE ASIDE THE PRIVACY SCREEN.)

 

THE INTERVIEWER

(TICKLED) Oh! How delightful is that?

JOAN

It’s fairly standard, actually.

THE INTERVIEWER

(PASSING JOAN HER CUP) I can’t say I’m a regular in this kind of booth.

JOAN

No, I figured.

THE INTERVIEWER

So… to what should we raise a glass then?

JOAN

A better future with the ones we love, no matter what the world thinks of us.

THE INTERVIEWER

I would drink to that, but… how about: The Father, the Son and the…

JOAN

Holy toast!

 

(THEY LAUGH, CHEERS AND EACH TAKE A HEARTY GULP.)

 

Oof! That really is delicious.

THE INTERVIEWER

If there’s one thing I take seriously, it’s my spirits. Now go — before you get cold feet.

JOAN

Trust me, Brother. My feet have never been warmer.

 

(JOAN LEAVES AS THE CHURCH BELL DINGS FOUR MORE TIMES.)

 

MONMATRE CEMETERY.

 

ALVINA

I don’t get it.

THE INTERVIEWER

You don’t get what?

ALVINA

Why did you tell me this story, if Joan of Leeds wasn’t a client of The Brotherhood of the Phoenix?

THE INTERVIEWER

Because she was. She just didn’t know it.

ALVINA

She was?!

THE INTERVIEWER

Sister Abigail…

ALVINA

Yes?

THE INTERVIEWER

Her sworn enemy… the woman who tortured her with a life in the convent…

ALVINA

Gosh, she seemed like a dreadful woman.

THE INTERVIEWER

(WARMLY) She wasn’t.

ALVINA

What?

THE INTERVIEWER

Quite the contrary. In fact, she only ever brought Joan to the sisterhood in order to protect her from suffering Simon and Reggie’s fate.

ALVINA

Really?

THE INTERVIEWER

Yes.

ALVINA

Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?

THE INTERVIEWER

I don’t.

ALVINA

I mean, it wasn’t like Joan and Matilda were ever found out…

THE INTERVIEWER
Abigail had every right to think that that girl wouldn’t survive into adulthood if she didn’t make some serious changes right away… You see, she herself had had to make those changes at the same age… When she fell in love with Joan’s mother.

ALVINA

(GASPS)No!

THE INTERVIEWER

Yes. That close friendship of theirs? It was a lot more than that. So once Joan met Sarah, and Abigail realized that this cycle wouldn’t stop… she sent word for Kozlowski and me. The Knight and his squire? They were recent clients as well. We knew they’d be amenable to the situation due to the nature of their own relationship, so we sent them to plant the idea in the girls’ heads. You know. Sometimes a person has to feel like they’re in control, in order to make the change they need in life. Even if you’re there, working behind the scenes, giving them the push required for them to make the jump.

ALVINA
Hm. That’s beautiful.

THE INTERVIEWER
It really is, Alvina. It really is.

 

(MUSIC)

 

CREDITS

Stay tuned for the epilogue, but first the credits.

The Amelia Project is a production of Imploding Fictions.

This episode featured Alan Burgon as the Interviewer, Ciara Baxendale as Joan, Julia C. Thorne as Alvina, Hemi Yeroham as Kozlowski, Jordan Cobb as Jackie Williams and Erin King as Mia Fox.

The episode was written by Bob Raymonda with story editing and direction by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager, audio editing by Philip Thorne, sound design by Alexander Danner, music by Fredrik Baden, production assistance by Maty Parzival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen.

This show is kept going by listeners who choose to support us, if you’d like to make a one-off contribution, or become a regular supporter, go to ameliapodcast.com and click on support the show for more info. Thank you to all of you who are considering supporting us, and if you can’t afford to support us financially, you can always leave us a nice rating and review on your podcast app.

A shoutout to our super patrons, at the time of recording that’s: Celeste Joos, Heat 312, Jem Fidyk, Alban Ossant, Amélie and Alison, Stefanie Weittenhiller, Rafael Eduardo Wefers Verastegui, Alison Thro, Patricia Bohnwagner, Bryce Godmer, Cliff Huizenga, Michael West, Deanna Berchenbriter, Tim McMackin, Blythe Varney, Nitali Arora, Lee & Vee Hewerdine, Mr Squiggles, Toni Fisher, Tibbi, Florian Beijers, Courtney Mays Rensen, Boo, Mark Skrobanek, Astra Kim, Olivea Dodson, Philip Hansen, Michael David Smith, Alicia Hall, LG, Helden Inkheart, Ryan Burnett, Robert Acker, SuperKaliFragalisticExpi-Alex Nicol, Timotheus, Kayleigh Wilson, DOCTORmas, Ben Carlisle, Miss Nixie, Mystic Sybil, Tiffany Duffy, Jason Woods and Ryan O’Mara.

Without your loyal support, this show would quite simply not exist.

 

And now, the epilogue.

 

EPILOGUE.

 

FIELD IN SCOTLAND.

 

JACKIE

So the story did have a happy end. Go Joan! That’s the kind of resilience I admire.

MIA

And Joan really lived out the rest of her days as a man, on a small island off the Spanish coast?

KOZLOWSKI

Some days Joan chose to live as a man, other days as a woman.

JACKIE

Huh…

KOZLOWSKI

In modern parlance we would say that Joan defied the gender binary.

JACKIE

I’ve always been fascinated by Joan of Arc, but the way you told the story gave it a whole new dimension.

MIA

And eventually the church made her a saint, right?

KOZLOWSKI

Yes, although that was much much later. Long after Joan’s actual death.

MIA

It’s always the way isn’t it.

KOZLOWSKI

Oh but Joan held no bitterness, no regrets. This was someone who started life as a peasant’s daughter and ended up a national hero, leading an army and transcending gender roles in the process. Joan of Arc lived life to the hilt and made no excuses for it.

JACKIE

What I don’t understand is how you didn’t burn up?

KOZLOWSKI
I am very proud of fire-proofing Joan’s garments, that was not an easy thing to do at that time. To survive being burned at the stake? It is not a grace offered to most people. There is a reason we talk of hellfire… for death by burning is by far one of the most hellish ways to die.

JACKIE
Sure, but I mean what about you? I mean, you were right there, hiding in the pyre, weren’t you?

KOZLOWSKI
I have a relationship with fire.

JACKIE

A relationship?

KOZLOWSKI

Yes. But that will be the subject of another story…

 

(THE CRACKLE OF THE CAMPFIRE FADES OUT)

 

THE END.