The Apothecary’s Apprentice 35
The Apothecary's Apprentice
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- 1. The Apothecary’s Apprentice 35
The north wind flung a mocking torrent of rain against the window glass, and draughts from the ill-fitting casement whistled past.
Today would not be the best for Grandmother.
Henry Gryce appeared at the doorway. He threw a frowning look around.
“Mistress Parry the elder is not yet at work?”
“Something must have delayed her, master.
“She has been putting in extra hours here, what with the coughing fever that rages.”
Gryce stepped closer and Jennet tried not to recoil.
“You work hard for your master,” he told her. “Is there some way I can show how greatly I have come to think of you?”
Jennet shook her head.
“My thanks, sir, but no. I only do my job.”
“A trinket, perhaps? All maidens relish adornment.”
“I do not go anywhere to warrant it.”
Jennet dodged behind the workbench, the lantern in her hand throwing beams of light across the shelves.
“Sir, my grandmother’s absence is concerning. Have I your permission to see where she is?” she asked.
Gryce’s face tightened.
“Off you go. Take the lamp. The staircase is ill lit.”
The shop door opened, bell jangling, and a woman entered the premises, bringing with her a blast of cold damp air.
Shielding the wick of the swinging lamp against the onslaught, Jennet hurried out of the stillroom.
She was aware of the master’s ingratiating voice addressing the customer.
She was starting to despise it here.
Everything about it was abhorrent to her: the avoidance of Master Gryce, the dishonesty of his trading, his treatment of her mother and grandmother.
Lamp held high, she came to the top of the flight of attic steps, went past the door to her bedchamber and knocked on that of its neighbour.
“Grandmother?”
There was no response.
Fearful, Jennet lifted the latch and entered the small, sloped-ceiling room.
The fresh aroma of woodruff and germander met her.
Jennet’s gaze flew to the narrow bed.
One glance at the still hump under the covers told her what she had dreaded.
Her wail of denial and distress was echoed by the howl of the wind about the eaves.
The lamp flared in the draught and went out.
Jennet was barely aware of it slipping from her grasp and falling to the floor with a crash, glass shattering to fragments at her feet.