The Herbalist Read Online Free PDF Page A

said the dogs on the street knew it was syphilis. Mai seemed
to be enjoying the conversation; it was hard to tell sometimes whether she was fond of
Master Kelly or not. They both had firm opinions and liked to exchange them. Mai had
known his family well. He liked to hear about them and she liked to talk about them,
especially his mother.
    Sarah was afraid the bottle was about to
slip to the floor. Just in time Master Kelly did something unusual and asked Mai to go
for a stroll around her beautiful garden for a chat. As he followed Mai out, he turned
and gave Sarah a wink. He had never done that before.
    Something about Master Kelly was beginning
to unnerve Sarah. She had been in awe of him as a child. He was courteous to the girls
in the class, especially quick thinkers like Sarah. The boys, she felt sorry for the
boys, even James. How would the Master react when James revealed that he and Sarah were
walking out? Would he call her a fine girl then? Well, she’d find out soon –
Jamsie couldn’t put it off for ever.
    Sarah leant out the window to scoop a jug of
water from the barrel. Mai and Master Kelly were sitting on the low wall. He was talking
nine to the dozen, and Mai seemed thrilled. Sarah poured the water into a bowl; the sap
had turned her fingers pink. In fact they looked just like the Master’s. She was
glad to soap them back to normal.



4
    Mam was up the stepladder, painting the
kitchen ceiling. She kept giving me jobs to do: fetch this, wipe down that. If Charlie
thought he had it hard in the foundry, he was wrong: he wouldn’t have lasted five
minutes under Mam’s watch. For weeks now she had been spring cleaning, like
someone was coming. Then she started going on how it was a terrible pity about Birdie
and Veronique falling out, said she might get Seamus to take her over to
Veronique’s shop in his trap, just to have a word, see if she could persuade her
to make up with her sister, try to make peace. Father interrupted from his chair, said
Mam wouldn’t know what peace was if it jumped up and bit her ‘on the
bum-bum-bum’. She shouted that he only stuttered when it suited him, that perhaps
‘that man’ was right, and my father was putting it all on, the whole thing,
that perhaps he should go into show business. When Mam mentioned ‘that man’,
it was time to leave the kitchen, so I did.
    I swung on the rope that was tied to the oak
and tried not to hear what they were saying indoors. Mam raced out, took my hand and
dragged me through the gate with her. I knew better than to ask where we were going.
Lately she had taken to wandering the roads after a flare-up – no coat, no money, just
roaming about till it was dark. She let go of my hand, untied her head rag, flung it
over the hedge and marched along with her arms crossed. I prayed we’d end up in
town, and not walking in circles like the last time. After around twenty minutes she
took a lipstick out of her pocket, smeared a bit on her finger and rubbed it over her
mouth. Her face and hair were spattered with cream paint. The lipstick made her seem
even paler; she looked a fright.
    ‘Do I look all right?’
    ‘Lovely. Really lovely. Like a
beautiful –’
    ‘That’s enough,
Emily.’
    She veered down the slip towards the river
walk, and I followed. Now that we were going into town, I was dying to ask – could we
nip into the market and see if the famous herbal man was there? But I didn’t say
anything. It made my mother a bit agitated if I sounded too interested in someone. I
don’t know why, just the way she was.
    It seemed the herbalist had been an instant
hit. Some beautiful lady had tried to buy him out of face cream; she’d had skin
like milk, hair like ebony and jewels in her ears like an Egyptian queen. Of course the
rest of them couldn’t buy enough after that. They swarmed him. There wasn’t
a bottle or jar left by midday. He was the talk of the place. Tessie Feeney said he was
an ugly man; Milkie Nash said he was divine,