‘Let’s get on,’ he said.
Mistress Oliver wasn’t happy about the new members of the household. ‘What use will they be? Look at them! More mouths to feed, that’s all.’
William soon put a stop to her complaining with a few sharp words and sent her off to seek out some cast-off shoes and clothing for them.
Peg was instructed to carry jugs of water out to the scullery to fill the washtub.
Avoiding looking directly at Phoebe, Susannah gave her a piece of soap and a scrubbing brush and stood over her while she stripped and scrubbed herself and her child clean.
Susannah couldn’t help looking at the woman’s naked body, so strangely different from her own. She was so thin that her dark skin was wrinkled and her breasts lay like empty purses against her ribcage. The boy had skin the colour of milky coffee; he was neither black nor white and she wondered if this variety in colour was normal. She knew so little about Africans but perhaps he would turn darker as he grew older?
Once the slaves had dried themselves, Susannah held out a small shirt, breeches and coat to Joseph. Still trembling, he kept his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. Susannah looked at Phoebe.
Slowly she reached out her hand and took the clothes from her. She dressed the boy, who stood like a dummy while his mother stuffed his arms into the coat sleeves. Then she turned and waited, eyes downcast, until Susannah gave her a patched old gown and a shawl for herself.
Susannah herded the couple back into the kitchen and braved Mistress Oliver’s temper by asking her to feed the new arrivals. The cook banged down a loaf of bread and a bowl of dripping, together with a jug of ale, and went off to the pantry, muttering under her breath.
Susannah watched the boy look at the bread and then at his mother with enormous brown eyes.
Phoebe nodded almost imperceptibly at him and he fell upon his dinner, cramming it into his mouth so that his cheeks bulged, while tears rolled down his face. She reached out and gently lifted a tear away with her thumb, a muscle trembling in her jaw.
Susannah noticed that she didn’t eat herself until the boy had finished. All at once Susannah felt ashamed to be watching them and quietly withdrew. As she went upstairs she passed the chapel and heard Agnes’s angry voice coming from within.
‘I’m not taking in any more waifs and strays, Will. Of course you must get rid of them!’
‘I cannot!’
Susannah’s cheeks burned and she stopped with her hand on the latch. Her father always said that eavesdroppers never heard any good of themselves and although she knew she should have declared her presence, she stayed motionless behind the half-open door.
‘What do you mean by that, William?
Careful not to move her feet and make a floorboard creak, Susannah leaned forward a little and peered through the crack between the door and the frame.
‘I knew Phoebe and Erasmus from my time in Barbados. Poor Erasmus didn’t survive the journey, chained up in the hold of the Mary Jane, and Phoebe is brought very low. When I last saw her she was not the sorry creature she is today.’
‘That’s all very well, but …’
‘Phoebe has her child with her.’
‘They are Susannah’s slaves. She can free them and let them seek employment elsewhere.’
‘You know they wouldn’t last a minute out on the streets of London!’
‘I said, I’m not having them here!’ Agnes thumped her hand on the arm of her chair.
Through the gap between the door and the door frame, Susannah saw the stubborn set of her jaw and how William’s hands were clenched into fists behind his back.
There was silence for a moment then William spoke again. ‘Aunt … you don’t understand.’ His voice was quiet and Susannah had to strain to hear. ‘I lived on the plantation for a year and in that time I came to know Phoebe well. Very well.’ He turned to gaze out of the window. ‘She was a trusted house slave, full of life and laughter. She sang to herself as she went about her work and even my uncle, bad-tempered as he was, rarely failed to respond to her smile.’
‘I’ve told you that I don’t want any more slaves, William. Emmanuel is becoming too big to keep as it is.’
‘Aunt, I was there when Phoebe’s son Joseph was born. You haven’t seen the boy yet. The child is … well, he’s a mulatto.’
‘A what?’
‘He’s half white.’
There was a long pause in which Susannah heard the faint sound of the rag and bone man’s call drifting over the rooftops.
‘What are you telling me?’ said Agnes at last.
‘We must find a home for them here. Joseph is … family.’
‘God in heaven! Your child?’
Susannah pressed her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. She stumbled away from the door and ran down the corridor to her bed-chamber where she closed the door behind her and pressed her back against it, her chest heaving. She couldn’t explain why she was so disturbed by the knowledge of the slave child’s paternity but she felt like weeping.
The following morning Susannah gained permission from Agnes to call on all those people who had placed orders with Henry for sugar and rum.
‘The sooner you discharge Henry’s debts, the better,’ said Agnes. ‘I do not care to be disturbed by his creditors banging on my door.’
‘No, indeed!’ said Susannah. ‘I shall waste no time.’
‘And speak to Mistress Oliver. She has a brother who is a carter; he can make the deliveries for you and you can be sure he’s reasonably honest.’
It took Susannah several days to visit all Henry’s customers to discuss the delivery of the goods. Some had changed their minds or were out of town and a few produced papers to show that they had already paid half the cost in advance. In the evenings, after Agnes had retired, she sat with paper and pen calculating how much was due to her and attempted to match up the sums with piles of bills and the scribbled notes Henry had left behind.
At last she believed she had it all worked out. The candle had burned down in its socket and she rubbed her eyes, strained with exhaustion.
‘Have you found homes for all the goods?’
William’s voice came from behind her and she started. Hand clutching at her breast, she turned to face him but could not meet his eyes. She was still shocked by the revelation that Joseph was his child. And that, therefore, William and Phoebe …
‘Did I startle you?’
‘A little.’ Her face was hot as she forced her thoughts away from a shocking vision of a naked William clasping Phoebe in a passionate embrace and firmly back to the matter in hand. ‘I still have two barrels of rum that are surplus to requirements. I was wondering if I should visit one of the alehouses and ask …’
‘Certainly not!’ William’s face was grim. ‘But I shall ask on your behalf.’
‘Thank you, William.’ Her gratitude that he would take this task away from her made her sigh in relief. ‘Then I believe I can pay almost all the money Henry owed. I may have to throw myself on the mercy of his creditors and plead with them to let me pay a little less than they expect but I hope to have repaid the majority in the next seven days. Perhaps, in time, I can pay the remainder. Unfortunately the wages of a waiting woman are small and it will be hard to save at all when I have a child to support.’
‘You must let me have an account of the remaining debts and I shall settle them.’
‘No! I beg your pardon. It is a generous offer but this is something I must do myself. I should not wish to be beholden … ’
‘Beholden!’ The glint of fury in his eyes made Susannah blink. ‘If my cousin had not spent your dowry on fripperies you would not now be …’ The candle flickered and went out.
Susannah heard him sigh. His outgoing breath disturbed the air in the sudden intimacy of the darkness and made her uncomfortably conscious of how close he was.
‘Let us wait and see what price I can achieve for your barrels of rum,’ he said. ‘Then we can talk about settling the debt
s. It’s late and you should rest. I don’t like to see you looking so tired and anxious.’
‘I thank you for your kindness,’ she said, ‘but I cannot rest until I have discharged my husband’s obligations.’
Agnes had fallen asleep again, the pain in her swollen joints eased by the heat of the fire. Susannah stopped reading aloud and rested the book on her knee. Emmanuel sat in his usual place on the foot-stool at Agnes’s feet with the little ape curled up in his arms.
Emmanuel glanced up at Susannah, his eyes full of mischief. He took the still-smoking pipe from Agnes’s limp hand and shook the contents into the hearth. Then he stretched up and broke off a twig of rosemary from the little vase of greenery that Susannah had collected from the garden that morning, packed the leaves into the pipe and placed it on the table beside Agnes.
‘You are very naughty,’ whispered Susannah with mock severity.
Emmanuel giggled behind his hand. ‘You stay with Missus? Please? I go kitchen and see Phoebe.’
She felt sorry for him and it was hard to resist the appeal in his eyes. ‘Don’t be long, then. You know your mistress likes you to be on hand in case she needs anything.’
He shrugged. ‘You are here. I stay beside her all day and she have to think hard for errands for me.’
‘She’s a good mistress.’
‘Yes. But everything is the same every day. I sit by her feet for all my life,’ he said gloomily.
‘Can you remember what it was like on the plantation before you came here?’
‘I remember Mammy singing me.’
‘What happened to her?’
‘She get sick and die and I cry and cry.’
Sudden sympathy for the orphaned child made Susannah reach out for his hand. ‘My mother died, too. You never forget the sadness, do you?’
Emmanuel shook his head, his brown eyes mournful. ‘But Phoebe came.’ His face broke into a wide grin. ‘She like my big sister. She make me eat again and she sing to me. I never think I see her again.’
Susannah recollected for a moment Phoebe’s protective tenderness with her son. William’s son. ‘Wouldn’t you like to go back to the plantation?’
‘No!’ He rolled his eyes. ‘In the fields men die. They work hard under hot sun and overseer beat them. Flies eat the broken skin. My father, he die after a beating. I never want to go back.’
‘How very dreadful!’
Emmanuel leaned forward. ‘If I am bad Missus say she will send me to the fields. Please, you will tell her I must not go?’
‘Then you must be good, Emmanuel and give her no cause to be angry with you.’
‘But every day I sit here by Missus. I want to go outside, to see …’ He stretched his arms wide, ‘Everything!’
‘I’ll stay here with your mistress.’ She smiled at him. ‘You go and see Phoebe for a while.’
He snatched up her hand and pressed it to his lips, then raced down the stairs making small whoops of glee with the chattering monkey running after him.
Susannah glanced at Agnes who was undisturbed by the boy’s noisy exit and continued to sleep in her chair.
It was true what Emmanuel said, reflected Susannah. The days were all alike in the Captain’s House. Agnes’s poor old bones were too rheumaticky for her to want to go out and the outings to church twice each Sunday were occasions to be anticipated with pleasure as a break in the usual routine. The most exciting things that had happened lately were the pedlar’s visit and a neighbour practising a new tune on his viol by the open window.
William’s return each day after visiting his patients might bring news of the outside world but in the weeks since they had brought Phoebe and Joseph home Susannah could hardly bear to look at him. What could have possessed him? It wasn’t the fact that she was an African and so unlike a white woman that upset her but that Phoebe was so surly. She stared at the ground most of the time, refusing to meet Susannah’s eyes or to return her smiles. But then, sometimes, she would stare at Susannah in a way that made her go hot. The woman was perfectly civil to William, so at least Susannah had quashed her fears that perhaps he had taken her by force. But surely his liaison with Phoebe, even though it had resulted in a child, could not have been what Henry had referred to as a great disappointment in love?
An excited babble of voices drifted up from outside and Susannah went to the window to look down at the garden. Emmanuel was running, zigzagging backwards and forwards, chased by Joseph. The little boy was breathless with laughter, his hands held out in front of him reaching for the older boy who ducked behind a clipped yew. Emmanuel jumped out from behind the bush and snatched the child up into the air, making him scream with excitement.
Restlessness overcame Susannah again. All at once she longed to be away from the claustrophobic heat of the chapel, outside in the sunshine, skipping and playing without a care as she had when she was a child.
Phoebe came into view and called to Joseph who ran and clasped his arms round her knees. She lifted him onto her hip and nuzzled him. Emmanuel followed and Susannah watched Phoebe reach up and pull his ear affectionately.
Then William walked into the garden. He saw the others and went to speak with them. He ruffled Joseph’s hair as he spoke to Phoebe.
Susannah studied the four of them intently as they chatted easily amongst themselves. Something made her feel uncomfortable. It surprised her to discover it was jealousy. Then, almost as if Phoebe sensed she was being watched, she lifted her head and stared straight back at her.
‘What are you looking at, Susannah?’ Agnes was awake again.
Susannah moved away from the window. ‘I was watching Emmanuel playing in the garden with Joseph.’
‘Emmanuel’s job isn’t to play with that child!’ Agnes sighed. ‘My intention is for him to instruct Joseph in his duties as my new page. I still have Emmanuel’s outgrown blue coats put by in a trunk somewhere. You can look them out for me later on and find one to fit the child.’
‘If Joseph is to be your new page, you will still keep Emmanuel here with you, won’t you?’
‘How many pages do we need? Emmanuel is too cumbersome to have underfoot any more. And he’s become irritatingly fidgety.’
‘But you won’t send him back to the plantation?’ Fear for Emmanuel made her anxious.
‘I use the threat of it as a stick to beat him when he misbehaves. I expect he can work in the kitchens for now. The boy is strong, but too mischievous for his own good and for my comfort.’ She eased herself in the chair. ‘Susannah, make one of your poultices for my knee will you? It pains me more than I can bear today.’
Phoebe was sweeping the floor when Susannah went down to the kitchen. She turned away without acknowledging Susannah’s nod and carried on with her task so slowly that it appeared insolent.
Peg was at the sink scouring the pots with sand and singing a strange little melody to herself.
‘You sound happy, Peg,’ said Susannah.
She gave Susannah a smile which lit up her pinched little face. ‘Oh yes, ma’am. Emmanuel taught me a new song. His mother used to sing it to him.’
‘I’m to make Mistress Fygge a poultice but first I wondered if you could find me a crust of bread? My stomach is growling with hunger again.’
Peg nodded wisely. ‘It’ll be the baby. Mam was always taken by hunger when the baby began to grow.’
‘Is that what it is?’
Phoebe dropped her broom with a clatter. She picked it up with a stony face and then began to vigorously sweep the pile of dirt towards the kitchen door.
Susannah sat at the table to eat her bread. It was true that she hardly ever resorted to the ginger cordial any more to settle the nausea of her early pregnancy and mealtimes never seemed to come early enough. And the baby was growing. She’d tried to ignore it but she’d had to loosen her bodices already and would need to let out her skirts before long. As usual, every time her thoughts touched upon the baby and the impending birth she spiralled into panic. Suddenly dry-mou
thed with dread again, she crumbled the remaining bread between her fingers and once more forced herself to suppress all thoughts of the coming child’s existence.
Chapter 15
Susannah had lit the candles and almost finished her supper by the time William arrived home. Her spirits rose unaccountably as she heard his boots coming up the stairs but when he pushed open the door she saw that he was in one of his morose moods.
‘I didn’t wait for you,’ she said, passing him a platter of cold meat and cheese. ‘And Agnes’s joints were paining her so I helped her to bed earlier on.’
William pulled up a chair and sat down without saying a word. Hunched over the table he began to pick at the piece of cheese on his trencher.
Susannah waited for him to break the silence. ‘Did you visit the apothecary shop?’ she asked at last.
He glanced up. ‘What?’
‘I asked if you would visit my father’s shop and bring me some herbs to make a poultice for Agnes.’
‘I don’t remember that.’
‘William! It was only this morning, just as you were going out!’
He picked up an apple and began to peel it in silence.
Susannah watched candlelight glinting on the knife as the skin fell into a long red ribbon on his plate. Had he even heard her? ‘Agnes is in a great deal of pain.’
William looked up at her and she was shocked to see how drawn and white he was. ‘I lost a patient in Long Acre today,’ he said. ‘The plague again.’
Susannah tensed, suddenly fearful for him. For all of them. ‘Were you exposed to it?’
He shook his head. ‘I could do nothing but stand helplessly by while the watchman shut up the rest of the family. It’s an almost certain death sentence for them.’
‘I hoped the long freeze would end the infection. I can hardly bear the thought of the coming summer, being trapped in the city, never knowing which one of our friends and neighbours might succumb next.’ For a moment she remembered how fractious Arabella had been during her pregnancy the previous summer and almost felt sympathy for her.
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