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Authors: Charlotte Betts

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BOOK: The Apothecary's Daughter
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‘Then you must not think of it!’ said Martha firmly.

‘I cannot help it. And then, at our wedding, Henry and William argued. I didn’t understand at the time but now, when I think
about it …’

‘What?’ Martha’s eyes were very wide and she leaned forward in her chair, her mending forgotten.

‘I’d heard them quarrelling, you see. William said to Henry, “I don’t want you to bring them here!” and Henry poked William
in the chest and said that he’d
promised
.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Henry had grown up with Phoebe and Erasmus and was fond of them. I believe he thought he could persuade William to do right
by them once they were in England. After all, Joseph is William’s son.’

‘You do not think he and Phoebe still …’

‘No! No, I’m sure he doesn’t.’ Susannah stood up and paced about. ‘
Of course
not. It must have happened only once. Perhaps he had taken too much rum and his baser instincts got the better of him.’

‘It upsets you to think of it, doesn’t it? Perhaps you are jealous?’

‘Jealous? Of Phoebe?’

‘Of any woman who attracts William’s attention.’

‘What nonsense!’

‘Is it?’

‘Of course it is!’ Then she remembered the way William had pulled her close and kissed her forehead the other night and all
at once became uncomfortably warm.

James stirred in his cradle and began to whimper.

Susannah picked him up and paced briskly around the garden, patting his back to soothe his cries, but she saw Martha looking
at her with a knowing smile on her lips.

Ghosts and Shadows
June
1666
Chapter 17

It was a combination of Mistress Oliver’s heavy hand with the boiled mutton pudding and the warmth of the June night that
kept Susannah awake. Moonlight bathed the room in a silvery luminosity far too bright for sleep. She kept her eyes tight closed
and attempted to recapture the delightful dream she’d had of the child in the orchard but it remained elusive. The baby within
her sensed her restlessness and performed a somersault, causing another wave of heartburn which forced her to rise. The floorboards
creaked under her bare feet, echoing into the stillness of the night as she paced restlessly up and down. She pushed the window
open wider and leaned out, the stone sill pressing into the hard swell of her belly. Lifting her hair off her neck, she allowed
the soft breeze to cool her skin.

The sound of the watchman calling the hour drifted over the rooftops and cartwheels rattled across cobbles, making her shiver
as she wondered if it was a dead cart making for the plague pit. Whatever was to become of them all? There was no sign that
the plague was abating. Apprehension for the future, never far away, gripped her again.

A bat flitted across her line of vision and she watched as another joined it, weaving in and out of each other’s flight path
in a swooping
ballet. Then her gaze was caught by a movement down in the garden.

Straining her eyes, she saw a figure walking slowly along the cloisters. The bright moon illuminated it briefly before it
disappeared into the deep shadows of the arcading to reappear again a second later in the silvery light.

Then she heard the sound, a low keening of despair rising on the breeze that made her heart clench at the sheer desolation
of it.

The figure emerged again from the shadows, head bowed and hands clasped.

Susannah caught her breath.

It was Phoebe who stood in the little patch of light, sobbing as if her heart was broken.

Confusion gripped Susannah. She stared down at the other woman. Her usual instinct would be to run to aid any soul in such
terrible torment but their mutual dislike made her hesitate.

Then Phoebe disappeared.

Susannah peered again into the darkness, waiting, but not a soul stirred.

Susannah hurried along Fleet Street with her head down, picking her way through the muddy puddles left by the recent summer
thunderstorm. Several of the shops in Fleet Street had the shutters up and the usual cheerful bustle was absent but then,
most streets in the city were the same. A beggar, slumped against the wall, stirred and hopefully offered his stumps to her
for inspection. She fumbled in her pocket and threw a few coins into his hat, wrinkling her nose at the smell of him, even
though she kept her distance. No one in their right mind would risk sickness by approaching any stranger, never mind a beggar,
in such times.

A dead rat, monstrously swollen and heaving with maggots, lay in her path and she fought down a wave of nausea as she stepped
over it. Even the rats were dying! Not far to go now. A few yards away the sign depicting the Unicorn and the Dragon creaked
back and
forth in the breeze. She pushed open the shop door and went inside.

Her father glanced up from the counter, his face breaking into a smile of welcome. ‘Susannah, my dearest!’

His chin was rough against her cheek and she breathed in his familiar and comforting scent. She noticed that he no longer
wore the splendid black wig in the shop but had retreated into the old brown one while he worked.

Holding her at arm’s length, he studied her face. ‘Are you well? You look blooming, though perhaps a little tired?’

‘I’m finding it difficult to sleep. The baby kicks me awake and I have heartburn. Peppermint and fennel seed are what I need
to soothe my stomach.’

‘Infuse it in a pint of boiling water and …’ He stopped. ‘Sorry! Habit. You know as well as anyone how to prepare peppermint
tea. It’s such a shame that you can no longer …’

‘Yes, isn’t it? Still, I was able to feel useful by rubbing some oil of cloves onto Peg’s gums the other day to relieve her
toothache.’

Cornelius sighed. ‘I miss you more than I can say. Not only for your assistance in the dispensary but for all the discussions
we had,’ he smiled, ‘arguments even, about the latest plays and books. Arabella, for all her virtues, doesn’t read or take
an interest in current affairs. Sometimes I wish …’

‘Me, too.’

Sudden tears glinted in his eyes. ‘I’m a sentimental old fool. Take no notice of me.’ He took down one of the gallypots, shook
out some dried peppermint, twisted it up in a piece of paper and handed it to her. ‘Will you go upstairs and see the twins?
Arabella is in the parlour and I’m sure she would be glad of some feminine company. She finds it lonely here.’

The last thing Susannah wanted was to pay a duty visit to Arabella but the pleading look in her father’s eyes made her nod.
‘Samuel and Joshua will have grown since I saw them last.’

‘Indeed they have and their lung power has increased with them.’

‘Do they still keep you awake in the night?’

‘Not so much, thankfully. Although they are teething now and often fractious.’

‘Shall you come up to sit with us?’

‘In a little while. I have some urgent prescriptions to prepare. Yet another family struck down by the plague in Thames Street.’

‘Then let me help you. I will visit Arabella afterwards.’

Susannah found her old, stained brown apron still hanging on the hook in the dispensary and wrapped it round herself like
an old friend before she set to work.

‘There seems to be no way to control the pestilence,’ Susannah said. ‘William is out at all times of the day and night tending
to the sick. He cannot go on like this without becoming ill himself.’ She gripped the edge of the counter until her knuckles
were white, overcome by her fears again.

‘He often comes to see me for his prescriptions,’ said Cornelius. ‘He has become the closest thing to a best friend to me
since poor Richard was taken. Those physicians and apothecaries that are left in the city are stretched beyond all normal
capabilities. Yet what else can we do but help those who need us?’

Once the medicines were made up and poured into bottles, Susannah took off her apron and reluctantly hung it up on the hook
again.

‘Since Ned has not yet returned I must deliver these straight away,’ said Cornelius.

‘Take no risks, I beg you! Leave the bottles on the doorstep.’

‘I always do.’ Cornelius hugged her, kissing the top of her head. ‘Come and see me again soon.’ He snatched up his hat from
the counter and left.

Susannah washed the pestle and mortar and returned the gallypots to their rightful places. She noticed that some now had new
labels in Ned’s untidy hand but apart from that everything was just the same. There was still that familiar and well-loved
aroma in the air and she breathed in deeply to savour it. Here, in the shop, she could imagine that nothing had ever changed.
Sighing, she closed the door behind her and went into the passage.

There was a thunder of small feet clumping down the stairs and Arabella’s three older children pushed past her, shrieking
and bickering as they went.

Harriet stopped with her hands on her hips. ‘Oh, it’s you! What are you here for?’

‘I’ve come to visit. How are the twins?’

Harriet pulled a face. ‘Noisy and smelly.’ She ran off after her brothers without a second glance.

Jennet was busy making a pudding in the kitchen and jumped when Susannah touched her arm. ‘Miss Susannah! You startled me!’
She wiped floury hands on her apron. ‘It’s so good to see you at home.’ Pleasure lit her homely features.

‘Alas, not my home any more. I’m to go up and visit my stepmother but thought I’d come to see you first.’

‘That’s mighty kind of you, miss.’

‘And I wondered if you might spare me a little bread and cheese? I am almost fainting with hunger.’

‘Will you stay for dinner? I can put some extra onions in the pudding.’

‘I’ve stayed too long already. Shall I help myself from the pantry?’

‘Cover the cheese again when you’ve finished with it or those dratted rats will be in there gnawing at the master’s Stilton.
I asked the mistress if I couldn’t have a kitchen cat again to keep the little pests down but she says cats in the kitchen
are dirty.’

‘So are rats. Still, I do remember poor old Tibby helping herself on more than one occasion to a nice piece of fish from the
table or a custard put to cool.’

‘Cats are thieves and no mistake but much better than traps at keeping down the rats. Now why don’t you sit at the end of
the table while I’m busy and tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself?’

Twenty minutes later Susannah shook the crumbs from her skirt into the hearth. ‘I can’t put it off any longer, Jennet; I must
go
upstairs. I daresay Arabella will enjoy ramming home the fact that I’ve lost my smart house and am now a servant.’

Arabella reclined upon her daybed looking out of the parlour window with a piece of embroidery lying ignored upon her knee.

Susannah stood in the doorway and repressed a shudder of distaste at her stepmother’s Chinese furniture. How could she! But
there was no changing the situation now so she had better put a good face on it.

Arabella turned and smiled. ‘Susannah! I confess I am bored nearly to death so I am very pleased to see you. Come and sit
by me and tell me your news.’

Surprised by the warmth of her reception, Susannah concluded that Arabella must indeed be extremely bored. ‘I haven’t a great
deal of news,’ she said. ‘My days are largely spent with Mistress Fygge and she hardly ever goes out these days.’

‘Very wise. The city is not safe but your father still refuses to decamp to the country. I cannot believe the pestilence is
still with us after so long. I dare not go to the Exchange to buy so much as a ribbon or a pair of gloves without endangering
my life and my friends rarely visit any more. Even our butcher has died and we cannot get a decent bit of mutton. It’s all
dreadfully fatiguing.’

‘You have Father’s books to help you pass the time.’

‘Books!’ She opened her blue eyes wide in amazement. ‘What good are they? I want to go to a party and see a play or take dinner
at an inn! My life is passing me by and there is no enjoyment.’

‘You have your children and your house.’

‘And a very poor house it is.’

‘I always loved it here.’

‘You had never known any better.’

Susannah forbore to make any comment on that. ‘How are the children?’

‘Mercifully quiet at the moment.’

‘I saw Harriet and the boys on their way outside but I should like to see the twins before I go.’

‘They’re asleep at present but you can look in on them if you
wish.’ Arabella stared at Susannah’s expanding waistline. ‘When is your baby expected to make an appearance? Another two or
three months by the look of you?’

‘The end of September.’

‘And what plans have you made? Presumably you have some idea of where you will go and how you will manage after the child
is born?’

‘I shan’t go anywhere. My husband’s aunt has offered me and my baby a home.’

‘Susannah, don’t tell me you haven’t even
thought
about this?’ Arabella sat bolt upright, pushing her embroidery to the floor. ‘Mistress Fygge is an old woman. What will you
do when she dies?’

‘She is quite well and has no intention of dying!’

BOOK: The Apothecary's Daughter
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