The Apothecary's Daughter (48 page)

The days fell into a rhythm. Beth would cry fiercely for a while until she latched greedily onto her mother’s breast. Then
as the frantic sucking slowed she made small sounds of pleasure and both mother and baby would slip into a languid doze. After
they woke, Susannah would bathe and wrap the baby in her swaddling clothes before putting her back into William’s cradle until
she awoke again.

But, as the days passed, Arabella’s words echoed in Susannah’s mind. She
must
make plans for the future. Agnes would not live for ever and then what would she do? Arabella had been right; it would not
be seemly for Susannah to remain in William’s house unless they were married. And while, once, she had harboured secret hopes,
that time had long gone.

The idea, when it came to her, was so blindingly obvious she couldn’t imagine why it hadn’t occurred to her before.

She would become an apothecary in her own right!

The more she thought about it the more certain she became. Widows took over their husbands’ businesses, didn’t they? Well,
Arabella had gone without a trace but the shop was still there and she had the knowledge to run the business herself. Perhaps
it would have been impossible even last year but the plague had turned the world upside down. There were few enough apothecaries
and physicians left, so surely she would be able to overcome general disapproval by the sheer fact that apothecaries would
be so badly needed?

This idea excited her and gave her the strength to look ahead. Physically she grew stronger too and chafed at her confinement
in the attic. She lay propped up in bed for hour after hour with Beth on her knees planning the future.

‘You shall learn how to weigh out the herbs and to use the big pestle and mortar. And I will teach you Latin and take you
to see the latest plays and we will be servants to no one.’

All the while, Beth studied her mother’s face just as if she understood every word.

Joseph, too, was making a good recovery.

‘Bean soup again!’ he said, making a face. ‘I hate it!’

‘There is nothing else, ‘said Susannah. ‘Better eat it and be grateful.’ But, secretly, Susannah agreed with him. She began
to dream of apple pie and roasted lamb and tansy custard.

At the end of her lying-in, Susannah took her first tentative steps out of bed. She felt light as a husk and was relieved
to find that by pulling harder than usual at the laces, she fitted back into her bodice. The slight thickening of her waist
was compensated for by the extra fullness of her breasts and she was secretly pleased to have more womanly curves than before.

She paced the floor with Beth in her arms, desperate to leave the stuffy attic. Standing by the window nearly all day, she
yearned to be outside. ‘And that, little Beth, is the great River Thames on its way
out to sea. One day I will take you on a boat journey to the Tower and show you the lions in the royal menagerie. And over
that way are Fleet Street and your grandfather’s shop. As soon as we can leave this house I will take you there. You’ll love
it! It has a special scent all of its own: lavender and sulphur, rosewater and turpentine.’

Beth yawned widely, and closed her blue eyes, lulled by her mother’s voice.

Susannah kissed the red-gold down on the top of her head, breathing deeply of her milky-sweet skin. Surely this was the most
perfect child ever born since the beginning of time?

Phoebe put her head round the door and came to stroke Beth’s cheek.

‘She’s so beautiful, isn’t she?’ said Susannah. ‘But I expect Henry would have wanted a son.’

Phoebe bit her lip. ‘Henry
had
a son. My son.’

Susannah’s mouth dropped open. ‘Joseph? But Joseph is William’s son.’

Phoebe shook her head. ‘I
know
who is my child’s father!’

‘But … I don’t understand.’

‘Why you think Henry send for us? He want to marry me. He fight with his father who send him away.’

‘To
marry
you?’

‘He loved me and he was going to free me!’ Phoebe stared defiantly at Susannah.

Susannah stared back. The truth dawned on her with all the force of a bucket of icy water thrown in her face. All at once
many things began to fall into place: Henry’s homesickness and his desire to send her away to the country while he stayed
in the city with his slaves. She understood now why he had not wanted her in his bed and it explained his assignations with
Topaz; seeking comfort in one who so resembled Phoebe. And, of course, his sudden interest in her after he discovered she
would have a substantial dowry, which had enabled him to send for his son and the woman he loved.

‘You angry?’

Susannah thought about it as she carefully laid the drowsy baby
down on the bed beside her. ‘No,’ she said at last. Surprisingly, it was true. Sad, perhaps, at the misery and loneliness
she had suffered but not angry. Because the most marvellous thing of all, the thing that made her heart sing until it nearly
burst, was that Joseph was
not
William’s son. Laughter bubbled up inside her. ‘No, I’m not angry,’ she said, grasping Phoebe’s hands and pulling her into
an embrace. ‘I thought I was a bad wife but none of it was my fault after all!’

Phoebe frowned and shook herself free. ‘I saw you, with your white skin, and I hated you. You took my man.’

‘But you must know that I didn’t marry him to hurt you? And I see clearly now that Henry only married me to take my money
so that he could send for you. He never loved me.’

‘You have Henry’s child; a child that should have been mine.’ Phoebe stuck out her jaw and her eyes glittered with unshed
tears. ‘You make me jealous. You had everything. And I had nothing, except my son. Then you teach Joseph the white man’s ways
so he can leave me. You took my man
and
you were free. And I … I am your slave.’ Racked with sobs, she rocked herself backwards and forwards, hands twisting together
in her lap.

Susannah knew, from bitter experience, how the heart-wrenching pain of jealousy could eat away at a person. She decided that
the time was past for modesty. After all, without Phoebe’s help, she and little Beth might have died. ‘Phoebe, listen to me!
Henry only lay with me once in all the time we married. It wasn’t a happy experience and afterwards he was angry with himself
and with me. I wanted to be a good wife to Henry but he never loved me, however hard I tried to please him. Believe me, I
did try, but now I know why it was an impossible task.
It was because he loved you
.’

Phoebe’s eyes glittered with bitterness. ‘I had nothing, except my son. And you tried to take Joseph away from me, to make
him love you. I wanted you to suffer. And I wanted you to know how it feel when your man is with another woman.’ She lifted
her chin defiantly. ‘So I tole you I took your man.’

‘You’re talking about William?’

Phoebe nodded. ‘You love him? Tell me true.’

Susannah was too tired to dissemble and in any case she had been through so much with this woman by now that it seemed pointless
to lie. She looked at her sleeping baby’s face. ‘I cannot help myself,’ she said. ‘Even though you took him into your bed
I still love him.’

Phoebe sighed. ‘You save my baby’s life. I save your baby’s life. Now we are sisters and I will tell you true. That night,
the doctor came to my room only to see Joseph.’ Phoebe took Susannah’s hands. ‘Look at me, missus! The doctor
never
come to my bed. Not here in the Captain’s House or in the plantation. Never!’

‘But I saw you together … in your night clothes.’ Susannah gripped Phoebe’s hands until her knuckles were white, a glimmer
of hope growing in her heart. ‘Do you
promise
me this is the truth?’

Phoebe nodded her head. ‘He very kind. I very frightened. Joseph very sick. Doctor tole me Joseph had …’ her brow furrowed
while she sought the right phrase, ‘He tole me Joseph had
surfeit of sugar plums
.’ She smiled triumphantly.

Susannah frowned. Then she made the connection. ‘Not Agnes’s sugar plums? I
thought
she had been particularly greedy!’

‘Joseph greedy. He so sick I thought he die. I not tell Agnes or she beat him.’

Susannah laughed a little too wildly, as she fought down tears. ‘I doubt if Joseph will ever steal sugar plums again.’

‘This is true.’

Susannah glanced out of the window. She had to escape from the Captain’s House, to run and run as fast as she could to the
apothecary shop, to tell William
at once
that she loved him.

Phoebe glanced at Susannah out of the side of her eyes. ‘I hate you so much for taking my Henry I think I will die. After
dark, when everyone sleep, I walk through the house and cry for Henry. I came here to marry him and he is dead and you, his
wife, are my new owner.’ She swallowed back a sob. ‘Sometimes I come in the night and look at you when you sleep. I
never
understand why Henry want you. You so thin, so pale; I look and look at you and wonder
why
my Henry marry you. I never understand.’

‘Oh, Phoebe! There has been such terrible unhappiness and
misunderstanding! Poor Henry, trapped in a marriage he didn’t want so that he could afford to bring you here and you and I
both so miserable.’

Phoebe nodded.

‘But we must start afresh. Will you fetch me my pocket from the hook behind the door?’

Phoebe handed it to her and Susannah took out a key. ‘Come closer,’ she said. ‘One day I promise I will free you and Joseph.
I cannot do this while we depend upon Agnes to keep us. But for now …’ She inserted the key into Phoebe’s silver collar and
unlocked it. ‘Throw it out of the window,’ she said.

Phoebe rubbed at the red marks round her neck. ‘It cost a lot of money. Missus Agnes …’

‘I’ll deal with Agnes later.’

Hesitantly Phoebe picked up the collar and went to the window. She glanced back at Susannah.

‘Go on!’

Phoebe unlatched the casement. She turned back to look at Susannah again, who nodded encouragingly. Taking a deep breath,
she let out a great cry of jubilation as she hurled the collar out. It flew up into the air and then span away across the
rooftops.

‘I cannot believe’, Susannah said to Phoebe, ‘that we will sicken now. Joseph is almost well again and there is not the slightest
sign that we have the infection.’

Phoebe nodded. ‘The missus want to see you.’

Susannah wrapped Beth in her best shawl and carried her to the top of the stairs. She rang the bell and waited until she could
hear Agnes’s shuffling steps approaching.

‘So you have risen from your childbed,’ Agnes said. ‘And are you to introduce me to my great niece?’

Susannah held the baby up so Agnes could see the infant’s face. ‘This is Elizabeth,’ she said.

Agnes pursed her lips. ‘She’ll be a beauty,’ she said. ‘Like her mother. If we survive I shall stand as godmother to her.’

Eyes widening at the unexpected compliment, Susannah said, ‘I would be honoured, ma’am.’

‘And Joseph continues to recover?’

‘He’s beginning to resent our incarceration and becoming naughty.’ Susannah smiled. ‘I believe that signifies well.’

‘And William and the maid will be freed from your father’s house tomorrow. He sent a message to say that they are both well.
I dare to hope that it is only the matter of a few hours now before
he is returned safely to me and that soon it will be his turn to bring us baskets of provisions. I have become extremely tired
of bean soup.’

‘Still, we have been fortunate in your foresight, Agnes; without the beans we might have starved. But once we are free of
quarantine, I shall not care a bean if a bean never passes my lips again.’

In the middle of the night Susannah dreamed that her mother stood beside her bed rocking the cradle and singing to the baby.

‘Lullay my liking, my dear, my sweeting …’

Beth whimpered and Susannah stirred and awoke.

The wind had risen and rattled at the casement. The candle on the sill flickered in the draught.

Something made her uneasy. She scooped the baby out of the cradle and hugged her tightly to her chest then went quietly to
look in the other attic room. But Phoebe was fast asleep with Joseph curled up in the curve of her body.

At the top of the stairs Susannah stood motionless, listening to the silence of the night until the baby began to cry.

After she had fed Beth, Susannah carried her to the rattling window and gazed out into the darkness. The air smelled different;
the ever-present odour of river mud was overlaid by the tang of woodsmoke, she thought. A sudden gust of wind snatched at
the casement so that she had to haul on it and secure the latch before it smashed back against the wall.

In the east the sky was lit by a pink glow and she was surprised that it must already be near to sunrise. She kissed the baby’s
head. ‘You have had a long sleep this time, my sweet.’

It was as she turned to put Beth back into her cradle that she saw the pink glow suddenly expand to light up the sky. She
returned to the window. An explosion at one of the river-front warehouses, perhaps? A fire would be hard to control if the
warehouse held
brandy or timber. Some poor soul is likely to lose his livelihood tonight, she thought, as she climbed back into bed.