A Plague on Mr Pepys, page 8
She’d left them only a few minutes before she turned to see them sitting on their bottoms on the dirt road, playing toss-jacks with a few scraped-up pebbles.
She sighed. Too late now. They’d be filthy already.
Baxter’s was a better class of establishment. The door tinkled in a refined way as she opened it, not like the clang at Hutchinson’s, where Meg worked. Bess gazed around the room with interest, noting the polished floor, the good quality painted wall-hangings, the fine embroidered drapes at the window. Probably Dutch, she thought, brought in before the pestilence.
Each pair of gloves was on display in an individual glazed cabinet. The brass on the locks gleamed, and under their glass covers the gloves glowed like jewels. Shaped silk and satin in pinks and blues, embellished with ribbons and rosettes. She peered through the glass but couldn’t even see the stitching, and the men’s cuffs were beautiful French creations, with lace and embroidered flowers and birds. These were the sort of gloves designed never to be worn, but only to be carried for show by rich aristocrats. The quality made her both envious and uncomfortable.
‘Yes,’ said a voice from behind the counter. Behind him, shelves and shelves of the cheaper gloves, neatly parcelled in calico, formed a white wall. The man looked her up and down with contempt, obviously thinking she could not afford to shop there. In that single defensive moment, she knew instantaneously that a woman with no prior references would have no place in his shop.
‘I’m collecting,’ she said, sticking out her chin. ‘For the Deptford Christian Educational fund.’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘Wait,’ he said, as if speaking to a servant.
He opened the drawer under the counter and brought out thru’pence. ‘Show me your box.’
She held out the box and he read the words in the side. Satisfied she was genuine and not a beggar, he posted the coin gingerly through the slot, before wiping his fingers surreptitiously on his breeches.
Bess turned and made for the door. Her face was hot as coals. She’d thought she’d gone up in the world, but Baxter’s was a reminder that she hadn’t gone far enough.
She twisted her head this way and that, searching for Toby and his brothers, but couldn’t see them. The spot where they had been playing was empty. Around the back of the shop she caught sight of a window and peered in.
Rows and rows of girls sewing. This must be Baxter’s workforce. She stared in wonder. There were dozens of them, in well-organised ranks, each girl focusing on one task. A hard-faced woman shooed her from the window with an angry gesture.
‘Toby?’ she called, peering up the alley again by the shop.
No sign of them, the little vagabonds.
The hubbub of voices and the grating of a knife grinder drew her to the next street where a country market was in progress, with stalls of vegetables, dilapidated chickens trussed to a post, and trestles full of punnets of strawberries. She had barely turned the corner when Toby shot past her, holding something tight to his chest.
‘Toby!’ she shouted, but he didn’t stop, his face taut and red with exertion.
Running after him, and clearly breathless, was a long-boned youth in a striped jerkin and felt cap. He skidded to a panting stop in front of Bess. ‘Did you see a boy run past?’
Bess shook her head.
‘Christ alive! Third time this week. I’d swear it was the same lad. Need to nail my pies to the counter, he’s that quick. I thought I was a runner, but he’s that nippy, by the time I realise, he’s half-way to Bow.’
Bess pinned a concerned smile to her face, as the pursuer wiped his forehead, and punched at the crown of his cap in frustration before walking away.
A tug at her skirts and Billy appeared. ‘Did Toby get caught?’ he whispered.
‘No,’ she said, curbing her crossness. ‘Where’s Hal?’
‘Over there.’ He pointed to where Hal was staring, thumb in mouth, through the bars of a rabbit cage, at the coneys that were shortly to be someone’s dinner.
‘I was hungry,’ Billy said earnestly, looking up at her through sandy-coloured lashes. ‘I always am.’
‘But I would have given you dinner. You just had to be patient. Why didn’t you do what you were told?’ Billy lowered his eyes and stared at his feet. ‘Stealing’s wrong,’ Bess said. ‘Didn’t your father teach you that?’
‘Father says, “as long as you don’t get caught.” And Toby’s quick as a fox, he never gets caught.’ This last was stated with some satisfaction.
‘It’s still wrong, to take something that belongs to someone else, without paying,’ she said as she bustled him over to the rabbits to drag Hal away. ‘Come on, let’s go and find Toby.’
‘Will you beat him?’ Billy was pulling her back, fists gripping her skirt.
‘Beat him? No, of course not.’
‘And you won’t tell Pa?’ Now he did look scared.
‘I don’t know. It depends on how good you are for the rest of the day.’
‘Don’t tell him.’ His eyes were pools of fear.
‘Then be good,’ she said, feeling guilty as if she was taking advantage of him. They found Toby sitting on a low wall near the wharf. The pie was roughly divided into three portions, side by side. Toby flapped a hand over it, to keep off the buzzing flies which rose from the dung in the road.
The two boys fell on their shares and all Bess could do was watch as the pie disappeared.
‘Oh,’ Toby said, crestfallen, ‘Did you want some? It’s just we always—’
‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t much, though, that pie. Not for three growing lads. Let’s see if we can get you something else.’
She stopped and opened up the lock at the bottom of the collecting box. Carefully she extracted the thru’pence she’d just been given. Mrs Fenwick need never know. She’d fill it again, and besides these were poor boys who needed food, and here was the means to get it.
At a roadside stall, she bought salted fish and some breadcakes. As they passed the dockyard on the way to the ferry she couldn’t help but notice the skeleton of the King’s warship under construction in the dry dock, and it gave her a lump in her throat to think that her Will, with all his skill and experience, was excluded from these yards. She hoped Pepys had spoken to Nicholson by now, and would have good news next time they went to see him.
Once they’d disembarked from the ferry, they sat on the shore and Bess arranged the food on a cloth. The boys were soon poking sticks into the mud, and skimming stones across the water. Though the sky threatened rain again, Bess took off her shoes to let air get to her bare feet. She let the delicious cooling breeze soothe her ankles, and leaning against a breakwater, closed her eyes. She imagined those first brave souls who had gone from just up the river in Redriff, all the way to the New World. Mayflower they called the ship. Rather them than her.
‘Mrs Bagwell!’
The voice made her jerk upright. She looked behind her but could see no-one. The call came again. It was coming from a private wherry, even now being rowed downstream.
The figure, dressed in voluminous white shirt, and a burnt orange waistcoat and breeches, waved his feather-trimmed hat, causing the boat to rock dangerously from side to side.
‘Oh! Mr Pepys!’ She stood up and gave a hesitant wave. Then realising with horror that not only should she have curtseyed, but that her feet were bare, she fumbled to draw on her shoes, hopping from foot to foot. Pray God he hadn’t seen.
‘I’ve news! Thought I’d save you the trip as I was coming to the yards. I’ll come ashore,’ Pepys shouted, grinning broadly and pointing at the jetty down river.
Now was her chance, to push Will forward. ‘Not here!’ she called back. ‘Come to our house. Sign of the Saw, Flaggon Row.’
‘Splendid!’ He waved his assent, and she stuck her feet into her shoes.
‘Boys, hurry, we have to get home.’ She bundled all the food up in the cloth and tied it, and pulled the boys from their game.
‘Told you we wouldn’t get any dinner,’ Toby said. ‘It’s always the same.’
‘You will,’ Bess said, ‘but we have to eat it at home. Come on. Here, Toby, you carry it and I’ll take Hal.’ She thrust the bundle into Toby’s hands and hoisted Hal onto her hip. Breathless, she hared up the road. Mrs Fenwick was just getting into a carriage and paused, mouth open, to stare as she pelted past.
‘Hell’s breath,’ she cursed, but there was no time to stop. She burst in through the workshop door. ‘Quick,’ she shouted, ‘tidy yourself up. Mr Pepys is on his way.’
‘What?’ Will was holding a polished wooden beaker and a sanding block.
Why didn’t he move? ‘Mr Pepys. I just saw him on the river. He’s coming here, to our house. Give Lucy some coin, and tell her to fetch some wine.’
Still Will didn’t move.
Frustrated, she threw up her hands and shouted, ‘What’s the matter? He’ll be here any minute!’
‘There’s no money in the jar.’
‘Then get it on the slate – the vintner’ll loan us some if you promise it back tomorrow. And for heaven’s sake, get a suit on.’ She didn’t wait to see if he did as she asked, just hoped the instructions had gone in. This would be Will’s big chance to impress Pepys, if he could take him into the workshop, show him his carving. And a glass of wine might sweeten their visitor.
She thrust the boys up the stairs and into the house, and was just about to go and tidy herself up, when a different voice called out, ‘Hello?’
Oh no, not now.
Cousin Jack was on the threshold, leaning in.
Chapter 12
Bess wished she could shut the door in Jack’s face.
‘Toby?’ Jack called, ‘Time to go.’
‘But we were just about to have our dinner!’ Toby was reluctant to relinquish the cloth bundle on the table.
‘No time. Gather your brothers together,’ Jack said, ‘I can’t hang about all day. I’ve got to go to St Paul’s. I’m meeting someone.’
‘Billy’s on the chamber pot,’ Toby said mutinously.
There was no time to argue with Jack, though she would have loved to give him a mouthful for leaving the boys so long. Bess straightened her skirts and snatched a clean white coif from the drying rack in the kitchen, just as the door squeaked open again and Will appeared, his shirt streaked with brown dust from sandpapering.
‘Did you get the wine? He’s on his way,’ Bess said, peering out of the window. ‘Go and get changed.’
‘No, there wasn’t time.’ Will banged at his breeches making clouds of dust. ‘And no sheep’s eyes, this time, d’you hear me?’
‘Go on with you,’ Bess tutted at him, as she cleared pots from the table, and put the room to rights, making it fit for visitors.
‘Wine did you say?’ Jack asked Will, ‘Why? Who’s coming?’
‘Nobody,’ Bess said, at exactly the same time as Will said ‘Mr Pepys.’ They glared at each other.
‘Mr Pepys, the Mr Pepys?’ Now Jack’s eyes lost their impatience and took on an intent expression. He sauntered over to the table and sat himself down.
Bess pursed her lips. ‘Toby, fetch Hal and Billy. It’s time to go.’ She shot Jack a look, wagged her head at Will and hissed, ‘Get rid of him.’
A sharp purposeful knock at the door silenced them all. A pause whilst they all looked at each other, then Bess, realising Lucy hadn’t heard it, hurried to open the door. ‘Welcome, sir,’ she said, smiling and dipping her head,‘do come in.’
Pepys ducked under the lintel, and peered around the room. Bess saw he was carrying an ornamental pair of gloves like the ones in Baxter’s, with lace-edged cuffs and hanging ribbons.
He cast his gaze round the room. ‘Charming,’ he pronounced, with a surreptitious glance at Bess.
‘Do take a seat,’ Jack said, immediately standing to shake Pepys’s hand.
‘Oh … this is my cousin, Jack Sutherland,’ Will said.
‘He’s just leaving,’ Bess said. ‘These are our nephews,’ she said, waving an arm at the children who were all agog at Pepys’s flamboyant attire. ‘We were looking after them.’
Jack sat himself back down, at the table next to Pepys. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I have some business in the city. I’m a snuff importer,’ he said.
For less than a fortnight, thought Bess.
‘I’ve the best snuff in town, so they say, though I wouldn’t like to brag. Isn’t that so, Will? Of course, I’m the one with the head for business in our family.’
Bess frowned at him. ‘Jack, didn’t you have an appointment to keep at St Paul’s?’
‘Not for a while yet, I’ve time for a glass with you all. Did you say there was wine, my beautiful Bess?’
‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just fetch it from below.’ And Will made a hasty exit. Bess put on a nonchalant air, shaking out a clean linen cloth for the table, though she knew Will would be running up the street to his wine-merchant friend to beg a flagon from his cellar.
‘Father,’ Billy said, appearing at Jack’s elbow, ‘are we having our dinner here?’
‘Hush, lad,’ Jack said sharply. ‘We’re busy. Take your brothers into the back chamber. Go on – hurry up.’
‘But, Father—’
‘We’ll dine later. Now go, or you’ll feel the back of my hand.’ And he turned his attention back to Pepys.
‘Lucy?’ Bess poked her head around the kitchen door and Lucy emerged. ‘Get a cloth. Our wine glasses need a polish.’
But Pepys had lost interest in Jack’s description of his special aromatic blend of snuff. Instead, Bess was aware of Pepys’s gaze on the back of her neck as she took down the glasses from the shelf, and passed them to Lucy.
‘Come sit by me, Mrs Bagwell,’ Pepys said.
Bess dared not refuse, but she spread her skirts decorously about her feet, and was glad she’d found time to tuck her kerchief well into the front of her bodice.
Jack was pressing Pepys. ‘Our floral snuff is a very good price,’ he repeated, and threw out facts and figures about the cost of the tobacco and the grinding process, and how his particular blend was a cure for any number of ills including the great pestilence. Bess could not find the space to interrupt him, and besides, she was mightily perturbed by Pepys’s foot, which had nestled beside hers under the table. Even now, his stockinged leg pressed against her skirts. Was it accidental, or not? He seemed to be listening to Jack, but then just as she’d decided it meant nothing, a finger trailed across the back of her hand.
She leapt up as if scalded. ‘I’ll just check on the children.’
In the back chamber she smoothed her blushing face, and tucked her kerchief more tightly across her bosom.
‘What’s the matter, Aunt Bess?’ Hal asked. ‘Is it that man? I don’t like him. He smells funny.’
‘Shh. It’s the hair oil on his wig. He’s a very important man. He’s come to see Uncle Will.’
‘When will he be going?’
‘Don’t know, my little man. Soon, I think.’
Hal let out a long sigh and returned to where Billy and Toby had cleared a space on the wooden boards and were playing at soldiers using their spills as swords.
The bang of the outside door alerted her to Will’s return.
Bess hesitated. She pressed her hands to her cheeks to cool them. Will would spot her discomfort straight away. What should she do? It would be rude to rebuke someone of Pepys’s status, yet she felt she would have to, if he persisted. And Will would be furious.
Settling her breath, she went carefully back to sit with them, though she did not meet Mr Pepys’s eyes, and was careful to guide Will to the space between her and Pepys.
Lucy had laid out the glasses, and Will uncorked the flagon of wine.
Jack was still monopolising the conversation, but by now Mr Pepys was beginning to look glazed. He pushed his wine aside, though Will drained his. Finally when Jack showed no sign of allowing Will a single word, Mr Pepys stood and said, ‘Why don’t we walk up to Redriffe, Mr Bagwell, and we can talk as we walk? That is if your wife doesn’t mind?’ Again, that too-long stare.
‘A fine idea.’ Bess leapt on it before Jack had a chance to reply. ‘You can show Mr Pepys your workshop as you pass.’
Lucy retrieved his hat from the peg where Bess had put it, and passed it to him.
‘Good evening, Mrs Bagwell,’ Pepys said, with an elaborate bow, ‘it has been such a pleasure.’ He cocked his head on one side, smiling.
Was he teasing her? She gave a small nod and brushed down her skirts, to cover her embarrassment.
‘I’ll make sure to send you some samples then, Mr Pepys.’ Jack rose to his feet and planted himself in the doorway. He extended a hand to Pepys, who had no choice but to drag his eyes from Bess and take it.
Jack held Pepys’s hand a moment too long, but finally Will and Mr Pepys were out of the door, and she let out a great sigh of relief. She sent up a prayer that Will would get some advancement from Pepys at least.
‘Not what I expected at all,’ Jack said. ‘Mean, if you ask me. I offered him a fair price, and he turned it down. Can’t see a bargain when it hits him between the eyes. Lord knows how he got to be in charge of ships’ supplies. What does he want with Will?’
‘I’ve no idea;’ she lied, ‘something to do with the yards I expect.’
‘He’s taken a liking to you, though, hasn’t he?’
‘I didn’t notice.’
‘Will won’t be happy. Pepys’s tongue was almost hanging out.’ He laughed, but it was a laugh that made her uncomfortable. He stuck his head around the chamber door. ‘Come on boys, time to go.’
‘But, Father—’ Billy’s voice, protesting.
‘Enough of your lip.’ Next moment he’d grabbed Billy and pulled him bawling from the room. Toby and Hal followed, their faces sullen. They couldn’t wait for their father to return, but now suddenly, they looked reluctant to be in his company.
‘Bye, Aunt Bess,’ Toby said.
