The Apothecary’s Apprentice 27


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

“Oh, this weather is getting me down!”

Alice, feeling the pressure of coping with heavy chores to which she had not been born, set aside the lace panel she was fashioning and brushed the back of her hand over her damp forehead.

“My bobbins are slick with moisture,” she went on. “I shall never get this order completed in time at this rate.”

Risking the wrath of their landlord, the kitchen casement was open a fraction, but what little air entered did nothing to refresh the room.

Henry had a liking for jellied eels, the preparation of which filled the room with a fishy pungency.

Jennet, washing the supper platters at a small table by the casement, looked concerned.

“You are not ailing, Mother? There is sweating sickness in the town. We have been making remedies for it all afternoon.”

“The sickness always comes with the hot weather. I do not ail; I am simply tired.

“What with the cleaning, the shopping and the cooking, I can scarcely find the energy for my lace.”

“Then leave it, wife,” Ned piped up.

He shifted with difficulty in his bed, trying to find a cooler spot in the bolsters that propped him up.

“I dread to think what Master Maynard would say if I did,” his wife replied.

“I must have this ready for his visit or I could be dropped from his list.”

She picked up the lace and began weaving the bobbins again, her normally deft movements noticeably slow.

Jennet pushed open the casement and flung the dirty water out into the garden below.

“That’s the supper things done. Where is Grandmother?”

“Gone to see old Mistress Shackleton on Pillory Street. She’s on her last, poor soul,” Alice replied. “Why so?

“She worried me today. She had a dizzy turn and her chest pained her, though she would not admit it.

“She does nothing but grouse these days. She never used to.”

Ned grunted.

“She takes too much on. I’ve told her to leave off my treatment.

“All that rubbing and pounding with stinking oils saps her strength.”

“But it is helping you, Father,” Jennet pointed out.

Alice frowned.

“These dizzy spells are concerning. Is there no remedy she can take for them?”

“If there was, she would know of it. I’ve seen her taking tincture of mistletoe.

“It is thought to maintain a steady heartbeat, but can be fatal in large quantities,” Jennet returned.

“Tell me no more!”

It seemed to Alice that life was throwing one thing after another at them.

She paused to study the pattern she was creating, then continued to toss the bobbins.

“We must put an end to this traipsing about on her goodwifery rounds. ’Tis too much for her.”

“Might as well tell the sun to stop rising,” her husband commented. “She’ll do what’s necessary in her own good time, knowing Mother.”

He looked at Jennet.

“Where are those pamphlets Thomas left? I’ve a mind to read them.”

Along with Jennet, Ned had been instructed by Alice in the skills of reading and penning.

He had found it hard, but with persistence had mastered both to a degree.

The goodwife had shunned learning. All the knowledge she needed was in her head.

Jennet produced a wodge of pamphlets from the table drawer.

“Here you are, Father. Have a care not to leave them where they can be seen.”

“I know. Indeed, there’d be the devil to pay if Gryce thought I was stirring up trouble for some of his moneyed clients.

“Well, standing up to my principles is a risk I have to take.” He saw Jennet’s troubled expression and relented.

“Fret not, lass. Discretion is everything.

“I shall keep them out of sight. Good of Thomas to bring them. Tes a mystery where he had them from.”

“Thomas has made it his business to look into things since the mine disaster,” Jennet explained.

“He agrees with you about the working conditions.

“One of those papers lists the worst regions in the county. He said –” Jennet broke off.

“Well, go on, lass.”

She darted her mother a bothered glance, as if reluctant to say more.

It was common knowledge that in some areas of society talk of this nature could be construed as dissent.

Jennet’s first concern was with her mother, who had enough to contend with.

“Oh, it was nothing. I forget.”

Ned’s dark eyes narrowed knowingly.

“Don’t give me that. If Thomas has an interest in what I’ve been striving for all these years, I want to know of it.”

“Well, he says he could contact other miners with like views.

“Chance is you could get together and do something about it.

“There is strength in numbers, Thomas says,” Jennet finished.

“And right he is!”

For the first time in many weeks Ned’s face brimmed with fervour.

Alice shook her head in despair and applied her attention to her bobbins.

Her family’s whims and notions she could do little about.

To be continued…


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