The Pharmacist's Wife

by Vanessa Tait

  But at some moments, when I am not sick for home, and you, I mean if I manage to throw that off, for the merest heartbeat, say at dusk walking about listening to the Moslem prayers and tang of the mimosa plant in the heat, I can forget myself. I wonder if that is perhaps one way to live, if it were possible? Such a throwing off of shackles! A freedom in it that I had not known. I mean not to live a life of passive impressions but can instead dissolve myself in the cause.

  My dear love, I cannot write any more, the heat is taxing my powers of description and the flies continually land on my writing arm. I await a letter from you more than anything in the world.

  With fondest love, my own dear Rebe, and a kiss if you will bear it, kisses and more, I am your own dear love,

  Gabe

  Fondest love, and afterwards, nothing.

  Kayf: did it rhyme with belief or was it shorter, like strife? But Rebecca understood it now, however it was said – the medicine had given her a sense of it.

  She balled the letter into her hand and crushed it, letting her eyes fall shut. She ought to destroy the letter, but she found herself too tired. It was old, the paper was thin and the ink soon smeared in the sweat of her palm.

  A few days later Rebecca was surprised to open the door to Violet again.

  ‘Oh,’ said Rebecca. ‘Did you forget something? Or did we have an appointment?’

  ‘No, I – I only thought to see how you were. I was passing,’ said Violet, blushing hard and tucking her chin into her collar.

  ‘I see. Thank you – should you like to come in?’

  ‘Well, I was passing,’ said Violet again, peering past Rebecca’s shoulder. ‘Are you alone?’

  ‘I am,’ said Rebecca, opening the door. But as she turned to go inside she caught sight of Eva, out on the pavement, lifting her hand up to waist height and making her a little wave.

  Evangeline, come to the house? She was pleased to see her, God knows, but she had not arranged it, and if Alexander ever found out—

  ‘Oh, who’s this?’ said Violet.

  ‘This? A friend. I don’t think you have made her acquaintance.’

  Violet’s cheeks, which had been beginning to grow pale, were flooded again. She looked at Rebecca in astonishment. ‘Is she coming here?’

  ‘Do you know her, then?’

  But before Violet could reply, Eva was upon them, only giving the other woman a hurried ‘hullo’, and stepping up towards the door.

  ‘I am afraid I have not warned you of my coming, Rebecca, and now you have someone else!’

  Violet’s face, still in its heat, managed to grow sour.

  Eva said: ‘Your husband is at the pharmacy, is he? I thought he would be out.’

  ‘Have you each other’s acquaintance?’ said Rebecca, nodding at Violet.

  ‘No,’ said both women.

  ‘I have seen you, I think,’ said Violet.

  Now Eva started. Her eyes widened. ‘Have you, where?’

  ‘Oh I don’t know! On the street. Edinburgh is a small place.’ Violet fiddled with the tips of her gloves. But they were saved by Kitty Kat who fled between them all and into the house.

  ‘Kat,’ cried Eva. ‘You ought to be a dog, I swear it.’

  Inside the cat had pulled himself up on the flagstones, his legs splayed, as if he had not meant to come in after all.

  ‘Oh dear!’ said Eva. ‘He is so disobedient, I am afraid I cannot get him to listen.’

  ‘I do not mind him,’ said Rebecca. ‘Let him stay.’

  Violet pressed her lips together and gazed at the cat as if he might provide an answer.

  ‘Thank you, Violet, for your kindness. Drop by again, won’t you?’ said Rebecca.

  ‘I will,’ said Violet. ‘Tomorrow, perhaps? Or the day after.’

  ‘I look forward to it,’ said Rebecca.

  But after she closed the door she said to Eva: ‘I don’t know why she comes round at all. We have nothing to say to each other.’

  ‘Well, I have something in particular to say to you!’ said Eva. ‘Alexander is gone, you say?’

  ‘Yes, until this evening. But let us go up to my room – just in case.’

  ‘Yes, let us,’ said Eva. ‘I could not bear to be discovered. But what terrible paintings! They do not suit you at all. You bought them at auction, I suppose?’

  They went in to Rebecca’s bedroom, Kitty Kat at their heels, turned the lock and sat down together on the bed. The counterpane was hanging off and the sheets were flung carelessly aside. Jenny had always kept the bed tidy. And where was she? Rebecca had not heard.

  Eva sneezed. ‘Kat has taken to sleeping on my pillow. I wish he would not.’

  ‘No, he has great deal of fur,’ Rebecca said, pushing her hand down his back.

  ‘But look what I have to show you. It is something – do not be surprised – that I hope will cure me, at last,’ said Eva.

  ‘Cure you? Are you ill – why did you not come over sooner, if that was the case?’

  ‘Because …’ Eva yawned so hard that tears squeezed from her eyes. ‘Perhaps you share the malady.’

  ‘What – is it catching?’ Rebecca thought of smallpox, scarlatina.

  Eva heaved a sigh. ‘Mr Badcock said these salts would cure the hunger for my drops. Only I find they have made the hunger worse. I think there is some mistake. He says it is some mistake in me, that I have a weak character. I think he is right! But I cannot help the craving.’ She sighed again. ‘But Mr Badcock has given me something else. He says it will cure the hunger for it, for ever, because it does not go in by the mouth. I wanted to share it with you. For we are the same, aren’t we? Sisters, almost.’

  Evangeline brought out a brown leather case from her reticule, polished and smooth. ‘Mr Badcock, just three days ago, gave me less, much less, of the salts, to see if I could do it. He said I ought to cut down, he told me that my hunger was too great.’ She ran the pads of her thumbs over the surface of the case. ‘But I could not hold out! All the time knowing I could soothe my aches and shivers with a draught of laudanum, the temptation was too great. So I went out by the Cowgate and found a very low-down place that would not mind that I was sweating through my dress. I drank it there in the street, though it made me retch!’

  ‘Eva—’

  ‘How angry he was, when he came! I had never seen him so angry! And the drops had not even made me well again. But he pressed his face close to mine – his breath smelled foul. And his cheeks were quivering—’

  ‘Oh Eva, does he—’

  ‘I must not go elsewhere, he said! How much had I taken? I told him – twenty drops – or more. Though I could not be sure, my palm had been moist and the dropper had slipped from my grasp, and I wanted so much of it. For laudanum is not nearly as strong.’

  ‘What did he do? Oh Eva, tell me he did not touch you!’

  ‘He – he kissed me. On the cheek, where I was expecting a slap. And then he kissed my ear.’ Eva shuddered. ‘And put his tongue into it. His breath was hot.’

  Rebecca went to her and put her hands on Eva’s, still on the leather case. Both were cool and smooth. ‘And no more?’

  ‘I fell into a swoon – I don’t remember. When I came to I was sitting in my chair, and my dress and stockings were on just as they had been, although I was bruised about the thighs and the ribcage. I don’t know. Mr Badcock had left.’

  ‘If there is comfort to be had, that is a meagre one – that you don’t know.’ Rebecca sighed. ‘Would that I never had to see him again! But he is Alexander’s friend – his only one, I think. And would that I never had to see Alexander either.’ She stood up and gazed down at the street. ‘But I am his wife. He hit me – slapped me full in the face – for seeing you! And threatened to imprison me in this house.’

  ‘Oh! Does he not know? Does he forbid it? Yes, I see now – how stupid I have been!’ Eva pulled at a piece of hair. ‘I did not mean to put you in danger – that was the last thing I wanted! He hit you, you say?’

&nb
sp; ‘Yes, in front of Jenny.’

  A pin had fallen from Eva’s head, she stooped to pick it up and poked at the back of her hand distractedly. ‘This is it, then. The beginning! Oh, how I meant to save you from it.’

  ‘But how could you save me? I have married him, it is impossible you save me. No one can.’

  ‘If I could have got to you before the wedding, but I did not know you then.’

  Rebecca gripped her by the shoulders. ‘Eva, I am hit. Many husbands use force with their wives, I think. Husbands are allowed to do with their wives as they please! But we have our medicine. That makes anything bearable, do you not think?’

  ‘You are sure Alexander will not return?’

  ‘He is gone to the pharmacy. He will not be back till after dark. He is orderly in his routine. Unless …’ Rebecca remembered the shirt.

  ‘Unless?’

  ‘Unless something unexpected happens – an accident, say.’

  ‘An accident?’ Now Eva looked more afraid, her hand up in front of her mouth. ‘What kind of accident?’

  ‘A shirt, say, that was dirtied! Eva!’

  ‘A shirt, you say.’ Eva shivered and shivered again. ‘I think someone has walked over my grave! It is time I took you to the place, to the girl who owns the shoe. You will see for yourself. If you see her, if you know, then that might protect you where I cannot.’ Eva coughed, and coughed again. Her eyes were streaming.

  ‘The medicine,’ said Rebecca. ‘You have a need of it.’

  ‘I will take you, very soon, in a matter of days! Though it is not easy. You will have to wear a mask. I hope you can rise to it! But I cannot think on it now.’ She coughed again. ‘At least with the medicine I never have a cough. Do you find the same? It is miraculous. Mr Badcock says your husband has made another breakthrough, he has made the medicine in a different form. Liquid this time.’ She brought out a bottle from her reticule with shaking hands. The bottle was plainer than the one that kept their salts, but otherwise similar. ‘I think he means to sell it everywhere, in different forms. Mr Badcock says it is a medicine strong enough for heroes, I think he was thinking of Greek ones.’ Eva was talking quickly, shaking the bottle as she spoke. ‘I told him it should be called heroine, as he has made it for us.’

  ‘I have not seen it made this way,’ said Rebecca.

  ‘It is because your hunger is not as great. I have only tried it once before I brought it here. I thought you might like to try it too … We could try it together. Mr Badcock has left me enough for three doses, but I am sure after this I will be able to cut down, so you may have one of them without him noticing!’

  Eva set out the leather case again on her knee. As she slowly lifted the lid, Rebecca saw at first only a ruched and gleaming bed of pink silk. Was it a necklace she had there, made of diamonds? No, whatever was inside was too insubstantial for that. Even the dim light of the afternoon passed straight through it. Eva took it out and held it up as she would a prize. It was a syringe. Rebecca had read about its invention here in Edinburgh by a doctor, but she had not ever seen one herself. It was beautiful. The syringe perfectly proportioned, its barrel was glass, demarcated with black lines, which tapered down to a silver nose and further into a long silver needle, which in turn narrowed slowly down to the sharpest of points. Its plunger was made of carved ivory.

  ‘There are women who make a cut in themselves to drop in the morphine,’ said Eva. ‘But this is much better. I think there is no danger at all.’

  ‘I seem to remember that the doctor invented his syringe for injecting morphine into the site of pain – for neuralgia. I had neuralgia once – there was nothing more painful. P’raps many women get it – have you had it?’ Rebecca picked up the needle and very gently rubbed the tip of her thumb against it. It had a far sharper point than a darning needle, yet it was made to plunge into her skin in the same way that the other plunged into a ball of wool. She shuddered, and in shuddering she caught the tip of the needle under her skin. A single bead of blood oozed out of the pad of her thumb.

  ‘Neuralgia? No. Never mind that, the tip is so fine, it will heal.’ Eva took the syringe from her and shook up a bottle, not blue, but black. ‘I think he means to sell it everywhere, in different ways that will suit everybody. There now …’ She drew the plunger carefully back. ‘Ten lines up. That is what I must take. Oh, I long for it, only, you know, to ease my aches, and pull back my tears!’ The liquid filled the glass barrel now, not dark as it had looked in the bottle, but pale, as clear as water. ‘But the feeling, as it disperses, is much more sweet than the salts.’ Eva hitched up her tartan gown and unhooked her stocking, rolling it down to her knee. Her thigh, the colour of milk, had three blue bruises on it, each one the size of a halfpenny bit.

  ‘Does it hurt, going in?’ asked Rebecca. Eva held the point of the needle at the largest part of her flesh, up near her hip.

  ‘Mr Badcock did this the last time. But it is impossible for him to visit my rooms twice a day, though God knows he tries. It is simple, there is nothing in it, he did it easily enough, though it stings …’ Eva narrowed her eyes and pushed the tip onto the skin of her thigh. The flesh around it dimpled. She pushed in a little more, drew in her breath.

  ‘Ah, there now, there we are! Just keep it steady!’

  ‘It looks as though it might hurt,’ said Rebecca. ‘It does not seem natural.’

  ‘It does not hurt over much,’ said Eva, slowly burying the tip of the needle into her flesh. ‘It simply goes in like this’ – her hands were shaking – ‘and a little further – there!’ The needle was all the way buried, and now it looked as if it were part of her, a metal obtrusion. The wind rattled the panes and flung the first leaves of autumn against it, but neither of them looked up.

  ‘Can I …? Is there anything I can do to help you?’ Rebecca asked. For whatever she claimed, her friend was pale and sweat stood out on her brow. But Eva made no reply, only carefully brought her other hand over her leg to the barrel, catching her lips between her teeth as she pushed it down.

  The liquid flowed down. Eva sighed out. When there was nothing left she pulled out the needle and sat back. Her eyes were still dark, her pupils still took up the whole of them.

  ‘It does not hurt,’ she said through white lips. ‘At least, not as much as you might think. Very quickly the benefits flow out from it. And that thought helps with the discomfort.’

  Rebecca shuddered. It was not right to be penetrated so. A bead of blood had sprung out of the place where the needle had left, as big as a ladybird, and then a beetle, and then it ran over as a beetle might and fell down onto the counterpane. Eva saw it and dabbed at it with her sleeve.

  ‘I will get something for it, in a moment. But can the syringe really cure the hunger, do you think?’ asked Rebecca.

  ‘The men say it. They are men of science; they must know what they say.’ Eva pushed the hem of her gown down and sat fidgeting at the edge of the bed.

  ‘Is there pain after you have taken the needle out?’

  ‘Only an ache, nothing more. But it is the waiting for the effect that is harder!’ She kicked the side of the bed with her heels. ‘After I am rid of the hunger I mean to save up, and after a few years, two at the most, I will have enough to start a small concern of my own.’

  ‘A shop?’

  Rebecca thought Eva had been cheered by the thought of it because she brightened. But it was not that.

  ‘Ah now, I start to feel it at last. It spreads out, yes out …’ she said, rubbing at her chest with the palm of her hand. She closed her eyes and let her hand drop. Her eyelids fluttered.

  Rebecca’s medicine did not work as well as it once had. Hadn’t her original dose doubled, or more, on some days? But she felt just the same. Even the best moments – about half an hour after her morning dose – could sometimes be frayed around the edges, and she hardly ever had a sleep like Eva was having any more.

  But, as if she knew what Rebecca was thinking, Eva snapped her eyes open ag
ain and sat up. The effect was just like Rebecca’s childhood doll, when she used to sit her up for tea, only the doll had clear blue eyes fringed with thick lashes, and apples for cheeks. Eva did not have any of those things, except for the colour of her eyes, which were blue and inhuman looking, now that her pupils had constricted. ‘But you must try the syringe – that is why I came to you!’

  ‘I – I have had my medicine!’ said Rebecca. ‘Alexander keeps me exactly to it – you know as much.’

  ‘And is it enough?’

  ‘I think … I think I will ask him for more.’

  ‘But that is how the hunger gets its grip on you! This way you will be cured.’

  ‘I do not want to be cured, in that way!’

  ‘Ah, you are afraid,’ said Eva, letting her fingers paddle at her lips.

  Rebecca plucked at the coverlet. ‘It is so violent; as if you were stung by a monstrous bee.’

  ‘But we find a bee’s sting in nature, why should we not find this? Only instead of poison there is pleasure …’ Eva fumbled for her stocking, got it onto her foot and up to her ankle, then her hand slackened and her eyes, before she could say any more, drifted shut. Kitty Kat, perhaps knowing such things, barged into her foot and rubbed his back along the side of it, purring loudly. ‘But I still long to stop,’ said Eva, her eyes flickering open. ‘I think if I cut down a little each day I will be clear of it in a week, perhaps two. And after a few years, I will have enough to start up my own concern. A shop …’ Eva’s eyes again fell closed.