indeed.’
The crowd on the quayside was immense. John felt as though he was in London’s trading quarter as he thrust his way past hawkers selling everything that one could possibly imagine, even a skinny woman surrounded by children offering a baby for adoption to any kindly soul. Sailors were everywhere, paid off and heading towards the taverns, or working on the ships, hoisting or lowering the sails for inspection. Sledges, covered with goods for repair, swished past at speed, their use necessitated by the fact that carts were not allowed into the city. Everywhere was that great stink, of industry, of sewage, and of the population of this lively and bustling town.
Commodore marched through unperturbed, but Irish Tom, swearing a hearty oath, put his fists up at a sailor with a greasy little plait who trod on his foot.
‘Leave it, Tom,’ John ordered, and the coachman reluctantly obeyed.
A man with a red and green parrot on his shoulder was spinning a yarn for a small crowd which had gathered round him. John stopped to listen.
‘… and there was waves, huge green monsters, aroaring down on our little ship which clung bravely on. Then the Cap’n spied an island through his telescope and shouted out, “That be it, boys. That be the place we’re seeking” …’
There was a murmur of anticipation from the audience and John, moving on, threw a sixpence into the tin can which the ruffian had placed before him.
‘You shouldn’t pay rogues like that, Sorrh. He’s probably never left Bristol in his life.’
‘Oh come on, Tom. He’s a good raconteur and that is enough.’
Further along the quay a monkey was doing tricks for the crowd. It had a small, sad face and was dressed in a red jacket and matching fez. John watched as it stood on its tiny hands and waved its little legs in the air. He wondered what it was thinking, or if it thought at all, beyond food and shelter, that is. Again he gave a coin, but this time the monkey itself brought a tin and held it out. The Apothecary only wished that Rose were with him because he knew that she and the small creature could have communicated in some strange way. And not only could she communicate with animals; he suddenly recalled the extraordinary bond that had existed between his daughter and the twins, even when they had been tiny babies.
When he thought of Rose’s love for her brothers it brought the sudden sting of tears to his eyes and he had to look out at the water and pretend that the sun’s dancing rays, which caused it to reflect a million brilliant lights, were the reason for the purposeful application of his handkerchief.
‘Are you all right, Sorrh?’ asked Tom.
‘Yes, I was just thinking, that’s all.’
‘About the boys, I shouldn’t wonder.’
John glanced at Commodore, but he had drawn a few paces in front of them and was talking to the man who had been watching the pony and trap for him.
‘Yes, you’re right. I miss them, you know.’
‘’Tis a wicked woman who will keep a father away from his sons.’
‘But I walked out on her, Tom. She has every right to keep them from me.’
‘If I was you, Sorrh – which I’m not saying I am, mind – I would go and see her and sort things out.’
‘Even after all this time?’
‘Yes, Sorrh. It’s never too late on these types of occasions.’
But there their conversation had to end because Commodore was climbing into the trap and bidding them farewell.
‘Thank you, my friend, for all the help you’ve given me about Augustus.’
‘I don’t know what else to say, Sir. I told you of his early life and how close we were. There really is nothing further I can add.’
‘I suppose you have informed Mr Huxtable of your conclusions?’
‘I have repeated them over and over again. But still he has that lingering doubt.’
‘I wonder why that should be?’
‘Perhaps,’ Commdore said, somewhat sadly, ‘it is out of a misplaced respect for his late wife’s wishes.’
The
The crowd on the quayside was immense. John felt as though he was in London’s trading quarter as he thrust his way past hawkers selling everything that one could possibly imagine, even a skinny woman surrounded by children offering a baby for adoption to any kindly soul. Sailors were everywhere, paid off and heading towards the taverns, or working on the ships, hoisting or lowering the sails for inspection. Sledges, covered with goods for repair, swished past at speed, their use necessitated by the fact that carts were not allowed into the city. Everywhere was that great stink, of industry, of sewage, and of the population of this lively and bustling town.
Commodore marched through unperturbed, but Irish Tom, swearing a hearty oath, put his fists up at a sailor with a greasy little plait who trod on his foot.
‘Leave it, Tom,’ John ordered, and the coachman reluctantly obeyed.
A man with a red and green parrot on his shoulder was spinning a yarn for a small crowd which had gathered round him. John stopped to listen.
‘… and there was waves, huge green monsters, aroaring down on our little ship which clung bravely on. Then the Cap’n spied an island through his telescope and shouted out, “That be it, boys. That be the place we’re seeking” …’
There was a murmur of anticipation from the audience and John, moving on, threw a sixpence into the tin can which the ruffian had placed before him.
‘You shouldn’t pay rogues like that, Sorrh. He’s probably never left Bristol in his life.’
‘Oh come on, Tom. He’s a good raconteur and that is enough.’
Further along the quay a monkey was doing tricks for the crowd. It had a small, sad face and was dressed in a red jacket and matching fez. John watched as it stood on its tiny hands and waved its little legs in the air. He wondered what it was thinking, or if it thought at all, beyond food and shelter, that is. Again he gave a coin, but this time the monkey itself brought a tin and held it out. The Apothecary only wished that Rose were with him because he knew that she and the small creature could have communicated in some strange way. And not only could she communicate with animals; he suddenly recalled the extraordinary bond that had existed between his daughter and the twins, even when they had been tiny babies.
When he thought of Rose’s love for her brothers it brought the sudden sting of tears to his eyes and he had to look out at the water and pretend that the sun’s dancing rays, which caused it to reflect a million brilliant lights, were the reason for the purposeful application of his handkerchief.
‘Are you all right, Sorrh?’ asked Tom.
‘Yes, I was just thinking, that’s all.’
‘About the boys, I shouldn’t wonder.’
John glanced at Commodore, but he had drawn a few paces in front of them and was talking to the man who had been watching the pony and trap for him.
‘Yes, you’re right. I miss them, you know.’
‘’Tis a wicked woman who will keep a father away from his sons.’
‘But I walked out on her, Tom. She has every right to keep them from me.’
‘If I was you, Sorrh – which I’m not saying I am, mind – I would go and see her and sort things out.’
‘Even after all this time?’
‘Yes, Sorrh. It’s never too late on these types of occasions.’
But there their conversation had to end because Commodore was climbing into the trap and bidding them farewell.
‘Thank you, my friend, for all the help you’ve given me about Augustus.’
‘I don’t know what else to say, Sir. I told you of his early life and how close we were. There really is nothing further I can add.’
‘I suppose you have informed Mr Huxtable of your conclusions?’
‘I have repeated them over and over again. But still he has that lingering doubt.’
‘I wonder why that should be?’
‘Perhaps,’ Commdore said, somewhat sadly, ‘it is out of a misplaced respect for his late wife’s wishes.’
The
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