The Apothecary's Daughter (24 page)

‘Your stepmother wouldn’t have you?’

‘There is no room since the twins arrived.’ She took a deep breath and launched into her prepared speech. ‘It was wrong of
me to be so discourteous to you when you offered me a position as your waiting woman. I have come to ask you if you would
forgive me and to promise that, should your offer still be open, I would endeavour to serve you well.’

‘You have some humility then? Not easy to find employment, especially with a baby in your belly.’

‘No.’

‘Good.’ Agnes Fygge gave a wolfish smile. ‘Can’t have my nephew’s pregnant widow scurrying around the streets looking for
work as a kitchen maid. Whatever would people think of me? So you will stop all the nonsense and come and live here.’

‘Dr Ambrose said …’

‘Why do you persist in calling him that when his name is William?’

Susannah heard a movement in the doorway and turned her head to see Dr Ambrose. She looked down at her shoes, not wanting
him to see her having to beg his aunt for a home.

‘Like it or not, you’re part of this family now,’ said Mistress Fygge, ‘and this family takes care of its own. Isn’t that
right, William?’

‘Indeed it is,’ said William Ambrose from the doorway.

‘Time you saw some sense, miss. Gallivanting all over the city offering yourself up at kitchen doors; it’s a disgrace! Why
didn’t you come to me in the first place? Pride is a sin, as you well know.’

‘Yes, madam. And I’m very grateful.’ It galled her to say it, but it was true. At least when she died in childbed there would
be a roof over her head.

‘I expect you’ll earn your keep.’

‘Yes, madam.’

‘Enough, then! Emmanuel will accompany you home and fetch your boxes. I’ll expect you back here this afternoon. You can read
to me. William will show you out.’ She leaned back and closed her eyes. The interview was over.

Emmanuel, pulling a handcart, remained three paces behind Susannah as she returned to her house. She felt his stare upon her
back and held her head high, refusing to look behind her, just as if she was a lady of quality out shopping with her blackamoor.

Peg’s eyes opened wide when she saw her mistress’s companion.

‘Take Emmanuel round to the kitchen door, Peg and put the handcart in the garden. I don’t want the neighbours to see us leaving.’

‘Leaving? You’ve found somewhere?’

‘We’re moving to the house of my husband’s aunt.’

She became very still. ‘Both of us?’

‘I said I wouldn’t abandon you, didn’t I?’

Peg closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief and Susannah bit her lip. She would have to deal with Agnes Fygge’s protests
later. Meanwhile, there was packing to do.

It didn’t take long. She folded her clothes into her trunk, along with her mother’s miniature and her precious pearl pendant
and added the candelabra that Agnes Fygge had given to her as a wedding present. Her books she placed on top of Henry’s bills
in her father’s strongbox. Perhaps one day she would be able to pay off her husband’s creditors, including the unpleasant
Mr Radlett. That reminded her of the little brooch she had found in the dining room and she slid her hand into the lining
of her trunk to extract it. She would place it on the drawing-room chimney piece with a note for when he returned.

She took a last look round the bedchamber she had shared with Henry. At their wedding she had been so full of hope for their
future but here she was, poised yet again, to begin a different life. But this time she had the terrifying addition of a child
growing inside her.

Hearing the sound of carriage wheels stopping outside, she peered out of the window and gasped. Scooping up her skirts, she
ran downstairs to the kitchen.

‘Quick!’ she said. ‘Mr Radlett and his family are here! Emmanuel, put the boxes on the handcart. Now!’

‘Yes’m.’

‘Peg, help him!’

They wrestled the trunks onto the cart, and Emmanuel shoved it along the path to the end of the garden with Peg scurrying
along behind.

Susannah hesitated. Dammit, she refused to sneak away like a thieving servant. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Wait for me at the end
of the road.’

‘But ma’am!’ Peg’s face was pinched with fright. ‘He’ll skin you alive!’

‘Don’t worry about me. Now go!’ Susannah latched the back gate behind them, then braced her shoulders and went back inside.

Mr Radlett was striding about in the hall making a great deal of noise opening all the doors. ‘Still here! I’m surprised you
have the gall, madam.’ He scowled. ‘I told you to be gone!’

‘I shall leave in a few moments but I have something to return to you.’

‘Get out of my house! Now!’ Mr Radlett’s jowls became dangerously suffused with scarlet.

Footsteps pattered down the passage and a fashionably dressed lady of middle years appeared and looked over Mr Radlett’s shoulder.
‘George, what is it?’

‘Mistress Radlett?’ Susannah came forward and proffered the brooch. ‘Might this be yours?’

‘Oh!’ The lady pushed her husband aside. ‘Wherever did you find it?’

‘It was behind the court cupboard in the dining room when I moved it to polish the floor.’

‘George, look! I never thought to see this again.’ She pressed it to her lips. ‘My husband gave this to me when our first
son was born. It’s so very precious to me.’

The colour in George Radlett’s face subsided from beetroot to rose. ‘Be gone with you, madam! This is my house and I’ll not
have you within half a mile of it.’

‘George! How can you!’ Mistress Radlett took her husband’s arm. ‘Take no notice of him, my dear! His bark is definitely worse
than his bite.’

‘But she’s been living in
our
house,
rent free
…’

‘At a time we had no need of the house. And look about you, George! Can you see signs of neglect or damage? On the contrary,
this lady even polished behind that great cupboard of your mother’s that I certainly never bothered to move. Our house has
been well cared for while we have been absent. And I’m grateful to you for it, madam.’

‘But the
rent
…’

‘There is no rent for this lady to pay. Now be a dear, George and come with me to oversee the unloading of our boxes.’

‘I do intend to pay you the rent my husband agreed to,’ said Susannah. ‘It may take me some time …’

‘Nonsense! There is no debt and I have my brooch returned safely to me,’ said Mistress Radlett, a smile on her pretty face.
‘Now, let me show you out.’

Susannah held her head high and swept down the front steps for the last time.

‘I have brought Peg, my maid,’ said Susannah looking Mistress Fygge firmly in the eye.

‘Oh, you have, have you? And who is going to feed and clothe her do you suppose?’

‘She works hard and is honest. And she doesn’t eat very much.’ Susannah held her breath.

Mistress Fygge stared back at her and all at once there was laughter in her eyes. ‘I think if Henry had survived, he would
have met his match in you, miss. Ah well, we can always use another pair of hands to carry coal up to the fires and we can’t
have you doing that in your condition, can we? You can go down into the kitchen presently and see my housekeeper, Mistress
Oliver. She’ll put Peg to work soon enough.’

‘Thank you, madam.’ Susannah had the grace to blush.

‘And what do you think your duties might be?’

‘Whatever you wish them to be,’ said Susannah as meekly as she was able.

‘Quite right! You shall read to me, be my secretary, make intelligent conversation when required and be silent when not.’

‘Yes, madam.’

‘William tells me you play chess?’

‘He is a better player than I.’

‘And I. So perhaps we will be well matched.’ She sighed. ‘I’m
tired. I’m always tired these days and I wish to rest. Put another piece of coal on the fire and then you can ask Mistress
Oliver to show you to your bedchamber.’

Susannah, braving the shroud of smoke hanging over the fire, did as she was told before returning to find Peg.

Mistress Oliver was a big woman and the cavernous kitchen underneath the chapel was her kingdom. Her sleeves were rolled up
to expose arms as solid and fleshy as hams and wisps of coarse black hair escaped from her cap as she stirred a vat of simmering
cow’s head on the fire.

‘So you’re Master Henry’s wife?’ she said. ‘He always had such a merry twinkle in his eye. A sad day when he passed away.
And especially so for you, since you’re thrown on the mistress’s charity.’

Susannah gently pushed Peg forward. ‘I have brought my maid, Peg, to assist you.’

Mistress Oliver looked her up and down. ‘A bit small, isn’t she? Better feed her up if I’m going to get any useful work out
of her.’

‘Peg is a good worker.’

‘She’d better be or she’ll feel my hazel switch across her back.’ She winked at Susannah, to belie her harsh words. ‘I’ll
have no slackers in my kitchen. You can start by peeling those turnips, girl.’

Peg took off her shawl and set to work without a word.

‘Mistress Fygge said you would show me my bedchamber.’

‘You’ll probably want to dust it again yourself. It’s been waiting for you this past month. Can’t keep the smuts down in the
winter,’ said Mistress Oliver as she led the way up the stairs.

On the landing she opened the door opposite the chapel and Susannah found herself in a long, panelled corridor with rooms
leading off along one side. Beyond a right-angled turn in the corridor Mistress Oliver opened a door near the end.

‘Come down to the kitchen if you could eat a bit of bread and cheese. Do you have strange fancies? My cousin used to eat coal
when she was expecting.’

‘Coal? No, nothing like that.’

‘Best get on.’ The door slammed shut and Mistress Oliver’s clogs clattered away down the corridor.

The bedchamber was panelled in oak with a faded Turkey rug on the floor beside the four-poster bed. A fire had been lit to
take the chill away. The real joy of the room, however, was the pair of tall windows which admitted a stream of light, even
though the day was dull. Susannah went over to the window seat and wiped the dusty bloom off one of the panes of glass with
her finger. Expecting to find a view of higgledy-piggledy rooflines and dilapidated dwellings all crowded together, she caught
her breath.

Down below was a garden. Cloisters ran round the three sides of it that she could see and the stone walls of the chapel rose
up opposite her. Although the garden was drifted in snow she could make out the topiary shapes of yew trees and low box hedges
containing a rose garden. The sheer, unexpected delight of such an open, tranquil space set within the surrounding maze of
twisting alleys, tenements and courtyards made her spirits lift.

In the middle of the garden the snow had been heaped into a snowman with two pieces of coal for his eyes and a carrot for
his nose. A hat with a jaunty feather topped him off. Susannah smiled. There was something about this rambling home that felt
welcoming, a stark contrast to the chilly, newly built perfection of the house she had shared with Henry.

A shuffling sound came from the corridor and then a scratching at the door. She opened it to find the monkey in the blue coat
sitting in the doorway with its long tail curled round its feet. Susannah hastily backed away but it seemed quite calm. The
little creature, its face and chest a pretty cream in contrast to its dark brown fur, stared at her with soulful eyes. Chattering
at her, it held out its arms and then leaped up onto her shoulder. More prepared this time, she managed not to scream and
stood very still while it lifted her hair and inspected her ear with a leathery little finger.

Suddenly it cocked its head, jumped off her shoulder and
bounded back along the corridor. A few seconds later it reappeared with Emmanuel, who had dragged Susannah’s boxes upstairs.

‘You gave me a nasty fright earlier on,’ said Susannah severely. ‘I hope you are sorry for it?’

Emmanuel’s white teeth flashed again and he chuckled. ‘Very sorry, missus.’

‘I should hope so too! How long have you had the monkey?’

‘Aphra here when I came. She belong the captain.’