Deryn Lake: Death at the Wedding Feast

The boy looked startled, his weepy eyes opening wide. ‘No, Sir, honest, I never done it before. I was desperate.’

‘I believe him, Sir,’ interrupted Robin. ‘I mean to say you only have to look at him. He’s thoroughly wretched.’

‘I tend to agree,’ said John, still keeping up his act of extreme severity, though, head averted from the child, he winked one vivid eye at Master Hazell. He turned back to the boy. ‘What is your name?’

‘Frederick, Sir. After the King’s father.’

At last a grin spread over John’s features as he thought of this highly unlikely pair of people. Frederick, so anxious to please, grinned toothily in reply, but the anxiety showed through the smile and the Apothecary knew that he was going to make a fool of himself once again.

‘All right,’ he said sternly. ‘I am going to give you a chance, Fred. I may call you that, mayn’t I?’

Fred nodded, his expression hovering between hope and despair.

‘I am going to offer you the job of general factotum in this establishment. No, don’t say a word until I have explained. In the apartment upstairs live some law students who need someone to clean up and look after them. Also, I shall need someone to assist Master Hazell with the general keeping of good order in this establishment. Now, if so much as a leaf goes missing from one of the herbs, if the students complain that their money is short, then out you go and no two ways about it. Do you understand?’

‘Oh yes, Sir. Oh thank you, Sir. You’ve saved my life, Sir. Honest you have.’

John rearranged his features in an effort to look stern again but had to give up. Fred was staring at him with such an honest look that, once more, the Apothecary felt his heart melt.

However, he spoke seriously. ‘You will be answerable to my chief apprentice, Mr Purle. He will report your behaviour direct to me and I shall ask him for regular bulletins. Now, Fred, there is a very small bedroom in the attic, above the lawyers’ rooms. You may sleep there. As for food, you shall eat with the other apprentices and build yourself up.’

Fred opened his mouth to speak but John had already addressed himself to the red-headed youth who was now waiting anxiously.

‘Master Hazell,’ he said, ‘you can go home and tell your father to contact me. If you would still like the position I will be most delighted to have you as my new apprentice.’

Later that evening John sat in the library thinking that he must be losing his reason. About to go away, on the brink of fatherhood, he had taken three new people into his life, all of whom — with the exception of Factotum Fred — would hold positions that, with varying degrees of responsibility, could make or break what he now realized was going to be the biggest commercial venture of his life. Could skinny Jacquetta Fortune really take charge of a business empire? Could Gideon Purle, still not yet qualified, be trusted to run a shop and bottle more water in his spare time? Had he made the right decision about appointing Robin Hazell as his new apprentice?

The Apothecary gave a wry smile. The only one about whom he had no doubts was poor, wretched Fred. For if the little chap turned out to be a regular thief then John would have no hesitation in turning him out. If, however, Fred decided to be as honest a man as any, then he could stay and make good. Maybe even become a future apprentice.

John caught himself up. He would be thirty-seven on his next birthday; forty was staring him in the face. He wished, suddenly, that his father still lived with him. Or, indeed, that Elizabeth had agreed to marry him so that he might have someone with whom to share his worries. He poured himself another sherry and opened his book, but could not concentrate on reading.

Then the door opened and Rose, in night attire, stood there.

‘Good evening, Papa.’

‘Rose!’ he exclaimed. ‘What are you doing out of bed?’

‘I just felt that I wanted to hug you.’

‘Then come here, little bundle, and do so.’

She climbed on to his knee and he stroked her spirals of red hair.

‘Couldn’t you sleep?’

‘I woke up and felt you were sad.’

‘True, I was feeling a bit melancholy. I thought I was getting old.’

‘But we’re all doing that. Even your baby…’ She stopped speaking very suddenly and gazed into space. Then she let out a delightful giggle. ‘… is getting older every minute.’

‘What was the laughing about?’

‘Nothing.’ She clutched her hands together in childish glee.

‘Something amused you.’

She shook her head, her eyes twinkling. ‘It’s a secret.’

‘So you’re not going to tell me?’

‘No.’

John shook his head with a smile and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. ‘I suggest you go off to bed, young lady.’

‘Walk with me. It’s a trifle frightening on the stairs.’

‘Very well. Let’s both carry candles and then we’ll scare the hobgoblins away.’

Hand in hand they climbed the staircase and John tucked her into bed, and left one of the candles in her room as an extra night light. The house was quiet and he realized that Jacquetta Fortune had also retired for the night. While Gideon, no doubt, was sleeping the sleep of sheer exhaustion in the attic above.

Tomorrow, thought John, I must leave for Devon and whatever fate has in store for me next. Hoping that all would be well in his absence, the Apothecary retired to the library to try to read some more of his book.

John rose early the next morning, even before daylight, so that he lingered for a moment by his window watching as the sky lightened to the colour of a seal’s pelt. It was going to be a raw day for his travels, he thought miserably, and called downstairs for some really hot water to wash and shave in. Half an hour later he was dressed and his clothes packed in a small trunk which he would be able to handle without help. Naturally he had wanted to take more garments and make a show, but practicality had triumphed over pretentiousness and the Apothecary had reluctantly packed only a few fashionable rigs.

When he descended the stairs for his favourite meal, John found to his astonishment that Jacquetta and Gideon were already seated at table and had started to eat. They both looked up in some surprise.

Gideon rose. ‘We knew you were going early but had no idea exactly when, Sir. Forgive me for not eating with the servants but Mrs Fortune and I have a great deal to discuss.’

‘Of course. I think you should waive that rule, Gideon. I am delighted to see you both up and about at this hour.’

It was five-thirty and John could not help but be pleased that the people in charge of his new business should be taking it so seriously. He turned to Jacquetta Fortune. ‘I hope these hours aren’t going to prove too much for you.’

She laughed. ‘Because I am thin, do you mean? Don’t worry, Mr Rawlings, I shall soon put on weight with portions like this served up to me every day.’

‘Excellent. That’s what I like to hear.’

And John cut himself a large helping of ham and devoured it hungrily.

He had asked Irish Tom to come round with the coach at six fifteen and so, between mouthfuls, explained to Gideon all about Fred and his deception, then how the real Robin Hazell had rushed in and the truth had been revealed.

‘So you have ended up with two boys, Sir?’ his apprentice exclaimed.

‘Yes, and I think they will both be useful. Now, Gideon, when Robin returns with his father and indentures are to be drawn up I want you to oversee everything up to the point where my signature is required. Explain to them that I will be back in four weeks but tell the boy that he can start work immediately. If he is agreeable then make the very best of him. I think he is level-headed and industrious. He should be extremely helpful to you during my absence. As for the other child I want you to watch him like a hawk. If his thieving habits return then turn him out and no questions asked. But if he does his duties well then reward him by raising his wages to a shilling a week.’