The Apothecary's Daughter (27 page)

Susannah’s cheeks burned and she stopped with her hand on the latch. Her father always said that eavesdroppers never heard
any good of themselves and although she knew she should have declared her presence, she stayed motionless behind the half-open
door.

‘What do you mean by that, William?

Careful not to move her feet and make a floorboard creak, Susannah leaned forward a little and peered through the crack between
the door and the frame.

‘I knew Phoebe and Erasmus from my time in Barbados. Poor Erasmus didn’t survive the journey, chained up in the hold of the
Mary Jane
, and Phoebe is brought very low. When I last saw her she was not the sorry creature she is today.’

‘That’s all very well, but …’

‘Phoebe has her child with her.’

‘They are Susannah’s slaves. She can free them and let them seek employment elsewhere.’

‘You know they wouldn’t last a minute out on the streets of London!’

‘I said, I’m not having them here!’ Agnes thumped her hand on the arm of her chair.

Through the gap between the door and the door frame, Susannah saw the stubborn set of her jaw and how William’s hands were
clenched into fists behind his back.

There was silence for a moment then William spoke again. ‘Aunt … you don’t understand.’ His voice was quiet and Susannah had
to strain to hear. ‘I lived on the plantation for a year and in that time I came to know Phoebe well. Very well.’ He turned
to gaze out of the window. ‘She was a trusted house slave, full of life and
laughter. She sang to herself as she went about her work and even my uncle, bad-tempered as he was, rarely failed to respond
to her smile.’

‘I’ve told you that I don’t want any more slaves, William. Emmanuel is becoming too big to keep as it is.’

‘Aunt, I was there when Phoebe’s son Joseph was born. You haven’t seen the boy yet. The child is … well, he’s a mulatto.’

‘A what?’

‘He’s half white.’

There was a long pause in which Susannah heard the faint sound of the rag and bone man’s call drifting over the rooftops.

‘What are you telling me?’ said Agnes at last.

‘We must find a home for them here. Joseph is … family.’

‘God in heaven! Your child?’

Susannah pressed her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. She stumbled away from the door and ran down the corridor to
her bed-chamber where she closed the door behind her and pressed her back against it, her chest heaving. She couldn’t explain
why she was so disturbed by the knowledge of the slave child’s paternity but she felt like weeping.

The following morning Susannah gained permission from Agnes to call on all those people who had placed orders with Henry for
sugar and rum.

‘The sooner you discharge Henry’s debts, the better,’ said Agnes. ‘I do not care to be disturbed by his creditors banging
on my door.’

‘No, indeed!’ said Susannah. ‘I shall waste no time.’

‘And speak to Mistress Oliver. She has a brother who is a carter; he can make the deliveries for you and you can be sure he’s
reasonably honest.’

It took Susannah several days to visit all Henry’s customers to discuss the delivery of the goods. Some had changed their
minds or were out of town and a few produced papers to show that they had already paid half the cost in advance. In the evenings,
after Agnes
had retired, she sat with paper and pen calculating how much was due to her and attempted to match up the sums with piles
of bills and the scribbled notes Henry had left behind.

At last she believed she had it all worked out. The candle had burned down in its socket and she rubbed her eyes, strained
with exhaustion.

‘Have you found homes for all the goods?’

William’s voice came from behind her and she started. Hand clutching at her breast, she turned to face him but could not meet
his eyes. She was still shocked by the revelation that Joseph was his child. And that, therefore, William and Phoebe …

‘Did I startle you?’

‘A little.’ Her face was hot as she forced her thoughts away from a shocking vision of a naked William clasping Phoebe in
a passionate embrace and firmly back to the matter in hand. ‘I still have two barrels of rum that are surplus to requirements.
I was wondering if I should visit one of the alehouses and ask …’

‘Certainly not!’ William’s face was grim. ‘But I shall ask on your behalf.’

‘Thank you, William.’ Her gratitude that he would take this task away from her made her sigh in relief. ‘Then I believe I
can pay almost all the money Henry owed. I may have to throw myself on the mercy of his creditors and plead with them to let
me pay a little less than they expect but I hope to have repaid the majority in the next seven days. Perhaps, in time, I can
pay the remainder. Unfortunately the wages of a waiting woman are small and it will be hard to save at all when I have a child
to support.’

‘You must let me have an account of the remaining debts and I shall settle them.’

‘No! I beg your pardon. It is a generous offer but this is something I must do myself. I should not wish to be beholden …
’

‘Beholden!’ The glint of fury in his eyes made Susannah blink. ‘If my cousin had not spent your dowry on fripperies you would
not now be …’ The candle flickered and went out.

Susannah heard him sigh. His outgoing breath disturbed the air
in the sudden intimacy of the darkness and made her uncomfortably conscious of how close he was.

‘Let us wait and see what price I can achieve for your barrels of rum,’ he said. ‘Then we can talk about settling the debts.
It’s late and you should rest. I don’t like to see you looking so tired and anxious.’

‘I thank you for your kindness,’ she said, ‘but I cannot rest until I have discharged my husband’s obligations.’

Agnes had fallen asleep again, the pain in her swollen joints eased by the heat of the fire. Susannah stopped reading aloud
and rested the book on her knee. Emmanuel sat in his usual place on the foot-stool at Agnes’s feet with the little ape curled
up in his arms.

Emmanuel glanced up at Susannah, his eyes full of mischief. He took the still-smoking pipe from Agnes’s limp hand and shook
the contents into the hearth. Then he stretched up and broke off a twig of rosemary from the little vase of greenery that
Susannah had collected from the garden that morning, packed the leaves into the pipe and placed it on the table beside Agnes.

‘You are very naughty,’ whispered Susannah with mock severity.

Emmanuel giggled behind his hand. ‘You stay with Missus? Please? I go kitchen and see Phoebe.’

She felt sorry for him and it was hard to resist the appeal in his eyes. ‘Don’t be long, then. You know your mistress likes
you to be on hand in case she needs anything.’

He shrugged. ‘You are here. I stay beside her all day and she have to think hard for errands for me.’

‘She’s a good mistress.’

‘Yes. But everything is the same every day. I sit by her feet for all my life,’ he said gloomily.

‘Can you remember what it was like on the plantation before you came here?’

‘I remember Mammy singing me.’

‘What happened to her?’

‘She get sick and die and I cry and cry.’

Sudden sympathy for the orphaned child made Susannah reach out for his hand. ‘My mother died, too. You never forget the sadness,
do you?’

Emmanuel shook his head, his brown eyes mournful. ‘But Phoebe came.’ His face broke into a wide grin. ‘She like my big sister.
She make me eat again and she sing to me. I never think I see her again.’

Susannah recollected for a moment Phoebe’s protective tenderness with her son. William’s son. ‘Wouldn’t you like to go back
to the plantation?’

‘No!’ He rolled his eyes. ‘In the fields men die. They work hard under hot sun and overseer beat them. Flies eat the broken
skin. My father, he die after a beating. I
never
want to go back.’

‘How very dreadful!’

Emmanuel leaned forward. ‘If I am bad Missus say she will send me to the fields. Please, you will tell her I must not go?’

‘Then you must be good, Emmanuel and give her no cause to be angry with you.’

‘But
every
day I sit here by Missus. I want to go outside, to see …’ He stretched his arms wide, ‘Everything!’

‘I’ll stay here with your mistress.’ She smiled at him. ‘You go and see Phoebe for a while.’

He snatched up her hand and pressed it to his lips, then raced down the stairs making small whoops of glee with the chattering
monkey running after him.

Susannah glanced at Agnes who was undisturbed by the boy’s noisy exit and continued to sleep in her chair.

It was true what Emmanuel said, reflected Susannah. The days were all alike in the Captain’s House. Agnes’s poor old bones
were too rheumaticky for her to want to go out and the outings to church twice each Sunday were occasions to be anticipated
with pleasure as a break in the usual routine. The most exciting things that had happened lately were the pedlar’s visit and
a neighbour practising a new tune on his viol by the open window.

William’s return each day after visiting his patients might bring news of the outside world but in the weeks since they had
brought Phoebe and Joseph home Susannah could hardly bear to look at him. What could have possessed him? It wasn’t the fact
that she was an African and so unlike a white woman that upset her but that Phoebe was so surly. She stared at the ground
most of the time, refusing to meet Susannah’s eyes or to return her smiles. But then, sometimes, she would stare at Susannah
in a way that made her go hot. The woman was perfectly civil to William, so at least Susannah had quashed her fears that perhaps
he had taken her by force. But surely his liaison with Phoebe, even though it had resulted in a child, could not have been
what Henry had referred to as a great disappointment in love?

An excited babble of voices drifted up from outside and Susannah went to the window to look down at the garden. Emmanuel was
running, zigzagging backwards and forwards, chased by Joseph. The little boy was breathless with laughter, his hands held
out in front of him reaching for the older boy who ducked behind a clipped yew. Emmanuel jumped out from behind the bush and
snatched the child up into the air, making him scream with excitement.

Restlessness overcame Susannah again. All at once she longed to be away from the claustrophobic heat of the chapel, outside
in the sunshine, skipping and playing without a care as she had when she was a child.

Phoebe came into view and called to Joseph who ran and clasped his arms round her knees. She lifted him onto her hip and nuzzled
him. Emmanuel followed and Susannah watched Phoebe reach up and pull his ear affectionately.

Then William walked into the garden. He saw the others and went to speak with them. He ruffled Joseph’s hair as he spoke to
Phoebe.

Susannah studied the four of them intently as they chatted easily amongst themselves. Something made her feel uncomfortable.
It surprised her to discover it was jealousy. Then, almost as if Phoebe
sensed she was being watched, she lifted her head and stared straight back at her.

‘What are you looking at, Susannah?’ Agnes was awake again.

Susannah moved away from the window. ‘I was watching Emmanuel playing in the garden with Joseph.’

‘Emmanuel’s job isn’t to play with that child!’ Agnes sighed. ‘My intention is for him to instruct Joseph in his duties as
my new page. I still have Emmanuel’s outgrown blue coats put by in a trunk somewhere. You can look them out for me later on
and find one to fit the child.’

‘If Joseph is to be your new page, you will still keep Emmanuel here with you, won’t you?’

‘How many pages do we need? Emmanuel is too cumbersome to have underfoot any more. And he’s become irritatingly fidgety.’

‘But you won’t send him back to the plantation?’ Fear for Emmanuel made her anxious.

‘I use the threat of it as a stick to beat him when he misbehaves. I expect he can work in the kitchens for now. The boy is
strong, but too mischievous for his own good and for my comfort.’ She eased herself in the chair. ‘Susannah, make one of your
poultices for my knee will you? It pains me more than I can bear today.’