Ned, standing on a stool, hung over the opposite wall making conversation with the neighbour’s serving girl. He jumped when the yard gate creaked open, slid down and continued his task of scrubbing out the big copper still in the yard.
‘I wondered where you were,’ said Susannah ‘There’s no one attending to the shop.’
‘Master’s in the nursery.’ He glanced skyward. ‘Again.’ He turned back to the still.
Jennet was in the scullery peeling potatoes for dinner and safely familiar in her usual brown dress and white collar. ‘Miss Susannah, what a welcome sight!’
Susannah stood by the warmth of the fire, sniffing the air. ‘You’ve been making jumbals,’ she said.
Jennet sat her down with a mug of ale and a freshly baked sugar cake. ‘You’d best have another when you’ve finished that one,’ she said. ‘You’re as thin as a lath. I was sorry to hear about your husband. The master’s been sick with worry for you.’
Susannah couldn’t stop herself. ‘Not worried enough to visit me though.’
‘He wanted to,’ said Jennet, heaving the pot of potatoes onto the fire, ‘but the mistress wasn’t having any of it. “You’ll bring the infection back home”, she said.’
‘My quarantine is over now and I’m well.’
‘You don’t look it, if you don’t mind my saying so, miss. Black circles under your eyes. Not sleeping, I suppose.’ A baby started to cry upstairs, soon joined by his twin. ‘Come to that, none of us are sleeping and the whole household is out of sorts.’
‘I’ll go up and see Father,’ said Susannah, brushing crumbs off her skirt.
She found Cornelius in her old bedroom, walking back and forth with a howling baby over each shoulder.
His face lit up when he saw her and he hugged her tightly. ‘I thank God you’ve been spared!’
‘Where are the nursemaids?’ shouted Susannah as she relieved her father of one of the twins.
‘The children were quarrelsome and I sent them all out for a walk.’
‘And Arabella?’
‘Lying down. She needs a lot of rest and nourishing food with two babies to feed. There, there, Joshua. Don’t take on so!’
‘I’m sure she does,’ said Susannah wryly.
‘I’m so very happy to see you and so sorry about poor Henry,’ shouted Cornelius, struggling to make himself heard over the screaming infants. ‘William Ambrose has called several times to tell me how you were going on.’
‘It would have been an even longer and more difficult month without him.’
‘I wanted to come to see you but I could only have stood outside and called up to the window. Still, now you can go out and about again.’
‘Father …’
‘Shhh! Look!’ Miraculously, little Joshua’s angry cries were settling down into sobs. Cornelius took the baby’s hand and pushed the tiny thumb into the infant’s mouth.
Joshua closed his eyes and started to suck vigorously.
Susannah tried the same trick with Samuel and in a few moments they were able to put the twins side by side in their crib. The sudden silence roared in her ears.
Cornelius took her by the hand and they tiptoed from the room. ‘Perhaps I’m getting the hang of it, at last,’ he said. ‘Some days I’m at my wits’ end and think I cannot go on for all the upset and disturbance. Is it too much to expect a little peace at my age?’
‘The shop is unattended,’ said Susannah.
‘Ned …’
‘Is in the yard making sheep’s eyes at our neighbour’s maid.’
They went downstairs and Cornelius unlocked the shop door. ‘Nothing is the same since you left,’ he said.
‘That’s what I want to talk to you about, Father. Now that Henry’s gone …’
Cornelius shook his head. ‘Susannah, we both know it wouldn’t work for you to come back here. Everything is different.’
Fear gnawed at her. ‘But I have nowhere to go!’
‘Whatever do you mean?’
‘The house didn’t belong to Henry after all. He merely rented it and the owners are coming back.’
‘But …’ An expression of outrage flitted across Cornelius’s face. ‘Henry assured me that it was his own!’
‘Well, it wasn’t.’
He shook his head. ‘To think I was so deceived! Henry could be such a charmer. But that house is far too large for you on your own, Susannah. Now that you are a widow you must rent somewhere smaller.’
‘I would have, if Henry hadn’t spent my dowry.’
‘Spent your dowry? What do you mean?’
‘Just that.’
‘But …’ His face turned ashen. ‘But I gave him nearly all my savings. He was intending to offer for Horatia Thynne and I wanted to secure him for you. I thought he’d make you happy. I wanted you to have a comfortable life and he promised me he’d look after you.’ He paced up and down, his breathing suddenly erratic. ‘What little money I have left I need for my new family. As it is, I shall have to work in the shop until the day I die.’
Susannah felt the panic begin to rise up in her again. ‘But what can I do? Where can I go?’
Cornelius covered his face in his hands. ‘However will we manage? The house is overflowing with children and serving maids; we’re bursting at the seams. There isn’t even room for you any more in the attics. And you and Arabella and her children will never live in harmony.’ His shoulders began to heave. ‘What have I done?’ he sobbed. ‘My love for Arabella clouded my judgement and now …’
‘Shhh!’ Susannah held him and patted his back while she fought down the icy terror that threatened to suffocate her. Father was right, of course. The strain of living with Arabella again would be intolerable for all of them; if it had been unbearable before, how much worse would it be now with twin babies and extra nursemaids?
Cornelius wiped his eyes and drew a deep breath. ‘We will have to find a way. Perhaps we could empty the dispensary and put you a bed behind the curtain?’ He bit his lip. ‘Ned sleeps close by under the counter in the shop but I can’t think how else …’ Anxiety etched deep lines on his face.
He looks suddenly old, Susannah thought with a pang, too old to be so troubled by the discord of squabbling women. She came to a decision. ‘It’s all right, Father.’ She was surprised how calm she sounded. ‘I can see that my return would be an unendurable burden for us all. I will have to do what other destitute widows do and find employment as a servant.’
‘My dearest child, I wish there was another way.’ The relief in his voice was tangible. ‘But unless you catch the eye of a wealthy man I cannot see what other choice there is for you. Except,’ he paused, ‘perhaps you could sell your mother’s pearl pendant and her miniature?’
‘Never!
‘Then I hope, for your sake, that you’ll find employment soon.’
Trudging home through the frozen streets, tears of mingled fear and resentment blinded Susannah. A beggar woman, huddled in a ragged blanket in the gutter, reached out and touched her on the ankle as she passed. Recoiling, Susannah fumbled in her pocket and dropped a coin in the woman’s hand.
‘Lord bless ya,’ said the beggar, glancing up, her desperate gaze meeting Susannah’s for a second.
Susannah flinched. The woman would have been pretty once, before the French pox started to eat away at her nose. Who had this miserable wreck of humanity been before she fell on hard times and ended up living in tatters on the street? Had she, too, run out of choices?
Peg was scraping the steps free of ice when Susannah arrived back home. She looked up from her broom, searched Susannah’s face then turned back to her task without a word. Poor Peg! Her future, too, relied upon Susannah’s. It was no good moping about waiting for something to happen. She thawed herself out by the fire, pushed her curls back under her plainest hat and left the house again.
The following week passed in a daze. Susannah traipsed all over the city, calling upon all the richest people she knew, many of them her father
’s customers. One after the other, they shook their heads at her request for work. In desperation she took to knocking on the doors of any large house that she came across but no one wanted even a serving maid.
Sick with exhaustion and fear, she took to her bed and lay huddled under the covers, shutting out the world.
Peg brought her bowls of soup that she couldn’t eat and brushed her hair until she slept again.
‘You’re so kind to me, Peg,’ whispered Susannah, too exhausted to lift her head. ‘I’m so tired I hardly know how to go on but I must! Time is running out and before we know it Mr Radlett will be hammering on the door ready to throw us out. There must be someone looking for a housekeeper and a maid.’
‘No one wants servants now,’ said Peg. ‘I’ve asked everyone I know but there are hundreds of girls living on the streets since their masters left London to escape the pestilence.’ Her lip trembled. ‘I shall have to go back to Moor Fields and knock on Mrs McGregor’s door in Cock Lane.’
‘You cannot!’
‘What else can I do? What else can you do?’
Susannah had no answer to that.
The long freeze continued but, nevetheless, fear for the future drove her to continue her quest for employment, however lowly the position. But still no one would take her on and whether the refusals were indifferent, rude or apologetic, it was all the same to her.
Dusk was falling when she returned home. Snow had been drifting down all afternoon covering the frozen filth of the streets in a clean white blanket and muffling all sound. Now it began to fall in earnest, great flakes twisting to the ground. Very few people were about. Exhaustion slowed Susannah’s steps and she found herself longing to lie down and let the snow enfold her in its pillowy embrace.
Her feet were numb with cold as they crunched through the snow and she was light-headed from lack of sustenance. She thought she was near home but everything looked different under the snow. Suddenly confused, she turned round but snowflakes whirled before her eyes and the light was fading fast. Panic set in and she began to run, desperate to find the house before dark fell completely. She slipped and fell headlong, the force of the fall crushing the breath out of her.
Once she had heaved the air into her lungs again she was too tired to do more than lie still, the cold seeping into the inmost recesses of her body. It was a blessed relief to close her eyes and surrender consciousness.
Something warm and wet washed her face. Opening her eyes she saw a large brown dog staring at her from a few inches away. There was a shout and a stone landed with a sound like a pistol shot on the frozen ground beside her; the dog yelped and ran away. A light appeared, bobbing up and down as it approached. Then hands pulled at her and she was hoisted upwards like a sack of potatoes. She hung, bent over double, with her arms and head dangling. Confused, she watched her hat fall off into the snow and disappear from view as she was carried away.
It was the burning of pins and needles in her extremities that awoke her. Fire flickered orange in the grate and the heat seeping into her fingers and toes made her cry out as they thawed. At the sound of her voice a figure on the other side of the fire stood up, casting a dark shadow up the walls. Susannah shrank back, her mouth dry.
‘It’s all right. You’re safe.’ William Ambrose took her hands and rubbed them between his own. His touch was gentle but his expression was remote.
‘What happened?’
‘I called upon you and your maid was anxious. A blizzard was blowing up so I went to look for you.’
‘I couldn’t find the house.’
‘You were only on the other side of the courtyard. Wherever did you think you were going?’
‘I didn’t lose my way on purpose!’ Susannah winced as Ambrose flexed her fingers. She’d have chilblains again.
He let go of her hand and sat back in the chair. ‘Susannah, this has got to stop now. You can’t spend day after day trudging around looking for work.’
‘So what do you suggest?’ Anger made her ball up her fists. ‘A little walk down to Whitechapel or Wapping, perhaps? I understand the sailors are always looking for new girls. Why, they may even overlook my age if the candle is held low.’
The shock on Ambrose’s face gave Susannah some small satisfaction. How dare he pass judgement on her?
‘I don’t presume to pass judgement on you,’ he said quietly, just as if he’d heard her thoughts.
‘I have to do something. It would have put an intolerable strain upon my father if I had gone back to my old home. There is simply no room for me. And Henry has left me destitute and so I must find some other means of support.’ A tear ran down her cheek and she buried her face in her hands.
‘Susannah, you have to think of the future now.’ He rested a hand on her arm but she shook it off.
‘What do you suppose I’ve been doing? I can’t eat or sleep for worrying about it. I’ve knocked on almost every door in the city begging for work. And there are still Henry’s debts to settle. If you’re so clever, tell me what more I can do?’
‘My aunt is right; you are an obstinate girl. She made you a perfectly good offer.’
‘Which I refused.’ Susannah lifted her chin. That had been a bad mistake but she was damned if she’d let this insufferably interfering doctor know that she knew it.
‘The time is past for false pride. You have another to consider.’
‘Peg? Do you think I don’t know that? Everywhere I’ve been I’ve asked for a position for her, too.’
‘I’m not talking about Peg. Susannah, you must face facts.’
‘What facts? That in a few days Peg and I will be living on the streets, or if we’re really lucky we’ll find a place in a workhouse? I think I’d rather visit Mistress McGregor in Cock Lane and throw myself upon her charity.’
‘Mistress McGregor? What do you know of her?’ asked William, his tone sharp.
‘She took Peg in then tried to put her to work in her brothel. Can you imagine? Peg’s little more than a child! She scrambled out of a window and tumbled to the ground in front of Henry, who brought her home to be our maid.’
‘I see.’ Ambrose stared into the fire. ‘Susannah, is it possible you haven’t realised …’ He stood up and paced the floor with his hands thrust deep into his pockets. ‘Peg tells me that you aren’t eating properly.’
Susannah shrugged. ‘I’m so worried that I can’t eat. Food makes me retch.’
‘And you are tired?’
‘Bone weary. Sleep eludes me.’
‘And Peg also tells me …’ He hesitated.
‘What right have you to discuss me with my maid?’
‘I will do whatever is necessary to ensure my patients’ good health.’
‘But I am not your patient.’
He raised one eyebrow and she had the grace to blush. ‘Peg tells me that she has not washed your monthly rags this past two months.’
Susannah’s mouth fell open. ‘She talked to you about such intimate matters?’
‘Reluctantly. But I am a doctor and she has your well-being at heart. As I do. She is worried about you. Susannah, you must know that you are carrying Henry’s child?’
‘Henry’s child?’
‘It’s not such a surprising thing, is it?’
‘No! Oh please, no!’ Spots of light flickered at the edge of her vision and William Ambrose’s voice calling her name faded away. As the blackness engulfed her she understood that, even though Henry was dead, he was still able to deal her another blow.
House of Shadows
March
1666
Chapter 13
The Thames was close enough for her to hear the raucous cries of the ferrymen and for the stink of the mud at low tide to permeate the air as Susannah picked her way through the frozen mire in Whyteladies Lane. Gulls wheeled overhead in a leaden sky. Jostled this way and that by the stream of people passing by, she kept her gaze upwards, searching for a particular signboard. At last she saw it, a faded sign painted
with a ship’s wheel which swung from the jettied first floor of a single-gabled house crowded in amongst similarly ancient dwellings.
Susannah lifted the dolphin’s head knocker of the Captain’s House and let it fall. As the sound echoed inside, she peered through the grille in the door but no light appeared to penetrate. This wasn’t at all what she had expected. After a few moments no one had arrived and she deliberated upon whether she should knock again or wait a while longer. Agnes Fygge, crippled as she was, might need plenty of time to reach the door.
A cart trundled down the lane, throwing up a wake of slush onto Susannah’s skirt; by the time she had shaken off the worst of it the door had clicked open. The entrance passage was empty and she stood shivering on the doorstep waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. A small sound, a suppressed giggle she thought, made her take a step forward.
‘Hello?’
Silence.
In front of her was a whisper of movement in the shadows and then she heard it again. Definitely a giggle. ‘ Mistress Fygge?’
After a moment a flash of white appeared briefly in the gloom.
‘Who’s there?’ She began to make out a black form in front of her. Unable to believe what she was seeing, she squinted into the dark at the two-headed monster taking shape before her eyes.
A deep, rich chuckle reverberated along the passage and then came a sudden piercing shriek as part of the monster flew free and launched itself at Susannah, landing on her shoulder with a thud.
Terror made her heart somersault as she screamed and flailed at the thing that had attached itself to her, pulling at her hair and pinching her cheeks.
‘Emmanuel!’ Agnes Fygge’s voice called sharply from the back of the passageway. ‘Take that spawn of Satan and get out of my sight!’
The monster loomed closer and snatched at the creature on Susannah’s shoulder.
Blinking in shock, she saw that the ‘monster’ was a burly man, an African in a blue velvet coat. In his brawny arms he held a small monkey, dressed in a matching blue velvet coat and a little skullcap. Both wore silver collars round their necks. The black man smiled and his teeth flashed white in the darkness before he turned and carried the chattering monkey away.
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