The Apothecary’s Apprentice 21


Jennet and Anthony meeting. All characters for the daily serial The Apothecary's Apprentice

Jennet marshalled her scrambled thoughts.

“Could you not approach your side of the family?”

“Never!”

Alice was adamant. The rift that had occurred between herself and the Wilkinses, monied people who had disowned their daughter for marrying beneath her, was absolute.

Who else could they turn to for support?

The answer came in a flash. Anthony!

Admittedly, he had let her down that morning, but perhaps it had been unavoidable.

The situation was dire. Surely, after all his attention of the past months, he would speak to his sire on their behalf?

If Reynard Venables had any decency about him at all he would act upon what he was told.

Jennet placed the simples box on the table and straightened her back.

“Bide easy, Mother. I am going out. I shall not be too long.”

From the bed in the corner, her father roused himself.

“Jennet, what are you about?”

Jennet was already moving towards the door.

“I see a chance for us. Bear with me, Father. I’ll be back shortly.”

She let herself out and headed along the stinking alleyway of Queen Street, stepping over residue from the open sewer.

Across the square, she took the turning for Bean Street and the heath where the Venables house stood tall and imposing within its garden wall.

She did not go to the servants’ entrance, but marched up to the iron-studded front door, as she had when Anthony brought her to cure his sister of suspected smallpox.

She activated the bell-pull, which was answered by a housekeeper who asked her name.

“Jennet Parry of Gryce’s apothecary shop.” Not for one moment would she disclose more here. “I wish to speak with Master Anthony.”

The housekeeper seemed about to refuse, but a second look at the determined young woman arrested her.

“I do have leave to call upon Master Anthony’s presence if necessary,” Jennet said further.

Admittedly, the circumstances had then been in the family’s own interest, but that was neither here nor there; this was desperate measures.

The housekeeper gave in.

“I shall see if the young master is available.

She was gone for some while, and when Anthony did appear, he looked as if he had been roused from sleep.

His hair was dishevelled, he was unshaven, and his clothes were in disarray.

He looked at her in shock.

“Jennet?”

Coming abruptly to his senses and conscious of listening ears, he began again, more cordially.

“Mistress Parry, what brings you here?”

Jennet was in no frame of mind for games.

“Anthony, I must speak with you on a matter of great urgency.”

He cast a glance over his shoulder. The chamber beyond bustled with servants, some carrying trays of food and drink.

Evidence of the previous night’s feast could be seen in the trestles around the walls and spilled jugs of wine on the floor.

“As you wish. Go to the copse. I shall be with you shortly.”

Jennet hesitated.

“You will come? Do not even think of evading me.”

“Of course not. Go now and wait. I shall not be long.”

The wait in the shadows of the elm trees felt interminable to Jennet.

As she stood there, the sun broke through the clouds for the first time in days and spears of watery light dappled the ground.

Jennet felt reassured when Anthony appeared, looking altogether more presentable.

“Now, what is all this?” he asked her.

She told him the harrowing details of the past weeks: her father’s disability, her mother’s careworn appearance and her grandmother’s failing health.

Lastly, she told him about the visit of the bailiff.

“It was unexpected. We have nowhere to go.”

Anthony heard her out, his expression inscrutable, then shrugged.

“I am sorry for your plight. However, I fail to see what I can do.”

“Could you appeal to your father for me? He surely cannot turn us out when our rent is up to date.”

“Jennet, I cannot interfere. The bailiff was carrying out procedure.

“It is a mine-worker’s cottage, and as your sire is no longer fit to work, the cottage must be vacated for someone who is.”

Jennet was taken aback.

“Anthony, please.” She was begging now. “If you think anything of me at all, could you find it in you to come to my aid?

“We shall be homeless. I was of the impression you harboured feelings for me.”

“I am fond of you,” Anthony confirmed, “but things are what they are. It does not stretch to interfering with my papa’s business affairs.”

He sounded cold and distant. Jennet felt as if her world was shattering into shards around her, and the sun seemed to go out.

She stared at him, seeing for the first time the weak mouth in the handsome face, the indifference in his eyes, and wondered what she ever saw in Anthony to make her yearn so deeply for his company.

He had been toying with her, and she had led herself to believe that there had been some truth in it all.

How could she have been so trusting?

He gave her a nod.

“I must take leave of you now. Honoria wishes me to go with her to look at a new mount.

“Apparently the mare Papa bought her is in foal. The herb gatherer wench once said as much. Turns out she was right after all.”

He prattled on, and Jennet, summoning the shreds of her dignity, left him there and took herself off, out of the wood.

She walked with her head high and a numbness within, making for the home that was soon to be home no more.

She had reached the road to town when, coming along it, was the last person she wanted to see.

It was too late to flee, so she waited, frozen to the spot, as Thomas grew closer.

To be continued…


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