John thought that he might be about to drift into deep water but saved himself by giving a small bow and saying, ‘Forgive me. I have a habit of doing that in the company of lovely women.’
Thankfully at that moment Lady Bournemouth called everyone into cards and the Apothecary was saved from behaving reprehensibly. He played an even poorer hand than usual but glancing across the room saw that his father, spectacles clamped firmly upon the high bridge of his nose, was in fine form and scoring point after point. Love for the old fellow overwhelmed him and made him lose what little concentration he already had.
At last the ghastly game was over and everyone retired to the supper room. He was in some ways relieved to see that Miss Clarke had attracted the eye of another suitor — a superficial young fellow with a very small mouth — who was making much of her. She, still young and clearly inexperienced regarding the wicked ways of the world, kept glancing across at John who bowed and nodded and smiled.
‘Who is that?’ asked Sir Gabriel, pausing with a piece of cold salmon perched upon his fish fork heading towards his mouth.
‘A great-niece of Lady Bournemouth’s, I believe,’ said John casually, hoping that he sounded more genuine to his father’s ears than he did to his own.
‘An extremely beautiful gal.’
‘Yes, I suppose she is. Would you believe that she comes from Sidmouth?’
Sir Gabriel shot him an amused glance. ‘Well, well, what a coincidence. Tell me, is she acquainted with Lady Elizabeth?’
‘I’m afraid that our conversation did not touch upon the matter.’
‘No, I’m quite sure it didn’t,’ answered his father, and turned his attention to the salmon.
They returned to Sir Gabriel’s home fairly late and went immediately to bed. All around him the house was silent except for the ticking of the great clock that stood in the hallway, yet the Apothecary found himself lying awake, listening to the silence. For no reason at all he kept hearing Rose’s voice telling him about the woman in the brown bonnet and how he was to lie flat when he saw her. It made no sense. In fact he would have dismissed it as an illusion had he not come across this sort of thing before. For his daughter was gifted in a way that he did not fully understand yet could not disregard.
When he finally dropped off to sleep he had a strange dream. He dreamt that he got out of bed and went downstairs to find that he was not in his father’s house but instead in his own home in Nassau Street. He went into the living room and there were Sir Gabriel, years younger, and his mother, Phyllida, still alive and looking as beautiful as she had before death came for her. They were conversing fondly and John realized after he tried to speak to them that they could not see or hear him.
‘Mother,’ he called out, but she merely put her hand down and patted a large ginger cat which sat fatly upon a cushion beside her.
‘Please look at me,’ he shouted.
But she and Sir Gabriel continued to smile and gaze at each other till John thought it unseemly to stare at a couple who loved one another so much, and left the room and climbed back up the stairs and into bed, where he awoke next morning.
Twelve
He had promised Elizabeth that he would be away two weeks at the most, so felt that he would be rather overburdened with things to achieve in that short space of time. But such were Jacquetta’s powers of organization that the Apothecary almost felt de trop when he sat down with her on the first morning of his return and went through a long list of figures. It seemed that this new sparkling mineral water was proving an enormous success. Vaux Hall had ordered a large quantity, as had Ranelagh Gardens, though this last piece of marketing had been achieved at the hands of Nicholas Dawkins, the Gardens’ consultant apothecary. Mr Napthali Hart had ordered some for Marble Hall, which was to open in a month’s time, and meanwhile was keeping a supply in store for his student dancers and fencers in Essex Street. But Mrs Fortune wished for a consultation about the bottles and called a meeting for that evening when Gideon Purle could join their company. John felt that it was the least he could do to ask his apprentice to dine with them, and duly broached the subject on arrival in his shop.
Gideon stood behind the counter in his long apron looking so terrifically assured that the Apothecary’s heart sank. It would not be long now before the young man would apply to be made Free and the whole process would begin all over again.
‘My dear chap, how are you?’
‘I’ve never been better, Sir.’
John’s heart sank even further as he thought that he would have to waive the fornication rule as he had done with Nicholas Dawkins several years ago. For one of the binding strictures of apprenticeship was that one would not have sexual relationships, which grew very awkward when the boys reached a certain age, as John Rawlings knew from personal experience!
‘I hear that you and Mrs Fortune are going like hell-cats with sales of the water.’
Gideon blushed endearingly. ‘They are indeed very good, Sir.’
‘And tell me how the boys are shaping up. What about young Fred? Is he behaving himself?’
‘He hero-worships Robin and has announced that he too would like to be an apothecary if only his reading and writing skills were better.’
‘But surely they taught him those at the Foundling Hospital?’
‘I think it was pretty basic stuff, Sir. Apparently his reading is well ahead of his writing.’
‘Then we must give him some lessons. Everyone should be allowed to realize their potential.’
‘Please don’t look at me, Mr Rawlings. I am at full stretch with the shop and the business.’
‘No, I wouldn’t inflict that on you, Gideon. I’ll have to send the child to a teacher of some sort. And talking of the business, can you come and dine with me today? Mrs Fortune has called a meeting for this evening to discuss the bottles.’
‘Thank you, Sir. I knew about the meeting, of course.’
‘You and she are fairly close these days, I take it?’ John asked innocently.
‘Yes, we are. Very. Only in a professional sense, of course,’ Gideon added hastily.
‘Naturally. I wouldn’t have presumed anything else,’ the Apothecary answered, and went into the compounding room, grinning.
They dined formally later that day. John, for once clad all in black, sat soberly at the head of the table looking at the beautiful woman that Jacquetta was turning into and thinking to himself that Gideon Purle was obviously and hopelessly in love with her. She, on the other hand, kept her thoughts and emotions very much to herself. Quite a shuttered and secretive person, John concluded. As she grew in confidence so she became more a woman of mystery. The Apothecary found her totally intriguing.
No sooner was dinner finished than the subject of bottles was raised.
‘Just to put you in the picture, Mr Rawlings,’ Jacquetta said, ‘we were wondering what type of bottles should be used. We have so far been selling the water in containers which resembled those used for physick. This has the disadvantage of certain people thinking that they were literally taking their medicine.’
‘I favoured stone bottles,’ Gideon ventured. ‘But Mrs Fortune could not decide. That’s why we were waiting for your return.’
John paused. ‘Well, we need something unusual. Something which echoes the contents.’
There was silence during which everybody thought, then John continued, ‘Supposing we have two bottles; one stone and one glass. The stone being sold slightly cheaper.’
‘But what about style, Sir?’
Jacquetta spoke. ‘Why not have a square bottle with a slender neck rising from it, and the words “J. Rawlings, Nassau Street” etched on the front?’
‘And it should be green to match your eyes,’ said Gideon, then blushed so violently that he resembled nothing so much as a tomato.
John smiled and caught Jacquetta’s glance, which remained blank, though a slight twitch of her eyebrow told him that she was highly amused. ‘That, my dear Gideon, is a splendid idea,’ he answered, partly to save his
