Forty days and Forty nights By Julie Balloo
Annie Tate wiped the gentleman’s fevered brow and lifted a tumbler of cider to his chafing lips; he spluttered and fell back onto the bed.. Jacob Treadwell tried to gesture his gratitude but he was too exhausted.
This visit was only one of many; Annie gathered her shawl around her and tucked her basket to her hip as she trawled the alley ways and back streets for houses that needed her.
What a good woman they said, how brave, how selfless. Whenever she saw the blood red cross daubed across the entrance of a dwelling she knew what to do.
‘Nurse here’ she called banging on the doors with her weary, knarled hands, ‘Let me enter.’
There were many like Mrs Tate, middle aged widows who would bring comfort to the sick and dying. Sometimes the relatives pressed a silk scarf or gold coin into her palm,’ Here take it good woman; we are blessed to know you.’
The clattering hooves announced the arrival of yet another pest coach and the nurse stood aside and watched as a thing that once was a servant girl was carried out and laid upon a pile of diseased beings, she stood head bowed as they were cartered off to the pest house.
The children sang that wretched song over and over, ‘ring a ring a rosy a pocket full of posies, a tishoo, a tishoo we all fall down.’ But Mrs Tate and her band went on, untouched, protected some might say.
When she came to Mr Derby’s house her knock was not answered, instead a young woman leant out of the opened window and shouted down.
‘Away with you Tate, you’re not wanted here!’
‘Oh come on Mistress Derby, let me in, I have ale and tinctures, your father needs me.’
A boy opened the door and Annie went inside.
She has sly eyes, his sister had said and he watched them closely.
‘What are you peering at boy? One day those eyes will see something they’re not meant to, you take my word.’
The boy scattered out of her way as his sister appeared.
‘Come, this way.’
‘How he is?’
‘No better.’
‘He’s still with us, the Lord has seen fit to keep him for you, show some gratitude Mistress Derby, you take too much for granted you do.’
Skyler Derby rounded on her but stopped short of causing offence.
‘We have no power over these times, it is written. There are twenty burials on bankside a day, God knows how more. I hear of a village in the country that closed its ranks to outsiders and stayed there till all were finished. Did you hear of Eyam, did you?’
‘No I did not, fools then, get me a jug of water girl, I’ll see to your father’
‘Sly eyes Teddy, she takes things, look in papa’s room when she’s gone, the locket of mama’s hair has gone missing, and the Tappers across the way say two gold spoons and pearl ring took flight after her visit.’
Ten minutes later Annie Tate came down. ‘It’s too late, he’s gone, fetch him to the pits.’
‘Let me see what you have there, let me see.’
The grieving daughter grabbed at the nurse pulling her basket to the ground and knocking the poor woman against the wall and a several tiny keepsakes fell to the floor.
‘See, see she shouted, thief, the nurse is a thief!’
But it was too late, Annie had fled and the siblings clung to each other in grief and despair, Annie had gone, but as she stopped to rest against the walls of an inn she knew it was too late. Her tongue had swollen in her mouth and when she tried to call for aid she had no voice instead the bile forced its way up her throat and her body convulsed as she spewed forth on the cobbled streets ,but it was too late. The plague had claimed another.
Copyright Julie Balloo 2012
This visit was only one of many; Annie gathered her shawl around her and tucked her basket to her hip as she trawled the alley ways and back streets for houses that needed her.
What a good woman they said, how brave, how selfless. Whenever she saw the blood red cross daubed across the entrance of a dwelling she knew what to do.
‘Nurse here’ she called banging on the doors with her weary, knarled hands, ‘Let me enter.’
There were many like Mrs Tate, middle aged widows who would bring comfort to the sick and dying. Sometimes the relatives pressed a silk scarf or gold coin into her palm,’ Here take it good woman; we are blessed to know you.’
The clattering hooves announced the arrival of yet another pest coach and the nurse stood aside and watched as a thing that once was a servant girl was carried out and laid upon a pile of diseased beings, she stood head bowed as they were cartered off to the pest house.
The children sang that wretched song over and over, ‘ring a ring a rosy a pocket full of posies, a tishoo, a tishoo we all fall down.’ But Mrs Tate and her band went on, untouched, protected some might say.
When she came to Mr Derby’s house her knock was not answered, instead a young woman leant out of the opened window and shouted down.
‘Away with you Tate, you’re not wanted here!’
‘Oh come on Mistress Derby, let me in, I have ale and tinctures, your father needs me.’
A boy opened the door and Annie went inside.
She has sly eyes, his sister had said and he watched them closely.
‘What are you peering at boy? One day those eyes will see something they’re not meant to, you take my word.’
The boy scattered out of her way as his sister appeared.
‘Come, this way.’
‘How he is?’
‘No better.’
‘He’s still with us, the Lord has seen fit to keep him for you, show some gratitude Mistress Derby, you take too much for granted you do.’
Skyler Derby rounded on her but stopped short of causing offence.
‘We have no power over these times, it is written. There are twenty burials on bankside a day, God knows how more. I hear of a village in the country that closed its ranks to outsiders and stayed there till all were finished. Did you hear of Eyam, did you?’
‘No I did not, fools then, get me a jug of water girl, I’ll see to your father’
‘Sly eyes Teddy, she takes things, look in papa’s room when she’s gone, the locket of mama’s hair has gone missing, and the Tappers across the way say two gold spoons and pearl ring took flight after her visit.’
Ten minutes later Annie Tate came down. ‘It’s too late, he’s gone, fetch him to the pits.’
‘Let me see what you have there, let me see.’
The grieving daughter grabbed at the nurse pulling her basket to the ground and knocking the poor woman against the wall and a several tiny keepsakes fell to the floor.
‘See, see she shouted, thief, the nurse is a thief!’
But it was too late, Annie had fled and the siblings clung to each other in grief and despair, Annie had gone, but as she stopped to rest against the walls of an inn she knew it was too late. Her tongue had swollen in her mouth and when she tried to call for aid she had no voice instead the bile forced its way up her throat and her body convulsed as she spewed forth on the cobbled streets ,but it was too late. The plague had claimed another.
Copyright Julie Balloo 2012
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