The Apothecary’s Apprentice 44
The Apothecary's Apprentice
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- 1. The Apothecary’s Apprentice 44
Next morning Jennet was cleaning the mullioned glass of the shop windows when a voice addressed her.
“Mistress Jennet?”
She turned, lowering the wash cloth.
The speaker was a stranger to her, a slender woman dressed in a cloak meticulously draped against the chill of the day.
Grey eyes gazed steadily from a calm face and her brown hair was tucked into a white cap.
Everything about her suggested a crisp cleanliness and order.
“Ma’am? Who speaks to me?”
The woman smiled.
“My name is Amelie Jarvis. The herbalist wife on the market stall pointed you out to me.
“My man is a cordwainer by trade. He has taken the empty shop on Pillory Street.”
Jennet wondered what she wanted.
Amelie smiled again.
“We are come from Chester. I was goodwife there, in the Handbridge district.
“I heard the Nantwich goodwife was deceased, and with Seth keen to come it seemed an ideal opportunity for us both.”
So that was it! She was of the mind to take over here as goodwife.
Jennet was instantly on the defensive. She felt usurped, nudged further into the arms of Henry Gryce.
“Goodwife Parry was my grandmother. I am apprenticed at this shop,” she explained.
“And practising as goodwife in her place. Yes, the herbalist wife told me.” Amelie nodded. “You are young for such responsibility.”
“Yet not without experience, ma’am.”
“That I can imagine. Nantwich is nothing like the size of Chester. Would you say it could carry two goodwives?”
“I don’t know,” Jennet admitted lamely. “I would need to think about it.”
“Be assured that I would not steal your place. Say the word and I shall seek work further afield.”
“As goodwife?”
“It is my trade. Perhaps you will let me know your thoughts. Good day to you.”
She went on her way.
Frowning, Jennet returned to cleaning the windows.
She wondered, grappling with a tumult of conflicting emotions, which of the two of them would make the better practitioner?
Alice Parry clucked in exasperation.
“What is the matter with everyone? Your father in a sulk because he is unable to get to the mine workers’ meetings. You with a long face, and the master – ’tis hard to fathom.
“As if he expects a fortune to fall into his hands and frets that it might not happen.”
Neither of Jennet’s parents was aware of the terms Henry Gryce had pressed on her.
Soon they would have to be enlightened.
She tried to arrange her face into more acceptable lines.
“I’m sorry, Mother. Was there something?”
“Only that it grieves me to see you looking as if you carry all the woes of the world on your shoulders. What is it, Jennet?
“You came in from swilling down the frontage with a frown fit to sour cream!” Alice finished.
“A woman spoke to me.”
Ned looked up.
“What did she want, lass?”
Quickly, since she was due at the shop, Jennet related the encounter of earlier.
“New goodwife for Nantwich?” Alice asked.
“You might be wise to make her welcome. ’Twould leave you free to concentrate on your own ambitions.”
“Your mother’s right, Jennet,” Ned affirmed.
Jennet begged to differ. To her mind, Amelie Jarvis was another problem and that was one too many!