Deadlight Hall

The rotund gentleman, who wore a neat name badge proclaiming him to be W. Trussell, M. Pharm., studied Michael’s card, then beamed with delight.

‘People do like to see that display,’ he said. ‘How things were done in the old days. I change it every so often, of course, so as it won’t get too familiar, not to say dusty.’ He looked back at Michael’s card. ‘Well, now, Dr Flint, and …’

‘Nell West,’ supplied Nell.

‘You’re more than welcome to take a look at the book. We don’t leave it on open display, you understand, because it’s a bit fragile. But people like to see it there, and I like the reminder of the shop’s past. We’re one of the few independent pharmacists left in the county, you know. It’s always been in private ownership, this shop, right from the start. Of course, we’ve had offers from the big companies,’ he said, proudly, ‘and probably one day we’ll have to accept. But not quite yet.’ He produced a small set of keys, unlocked the display cabinet, and lifted the book out with care. ‘If I can’t trust a senior member of an Oxford University I don’t know who I can trust,’ he said, and Nell caught the ghost of a half-wink from Michael at this. ‘Is it for a thesis, Dr Flint? A paper?’

This was said hopefully, and Michael said, ‘It might be both in the end. It might not work out, of course – we might meet dead ends. But if it does come to something, I’d make sure you got an acknowledgement.’

‘Well, that would be very nice, although not at all necessary. I’ll leave you to it,’ said Mr Trussell. ‘It’s a fairly quiet time of day for us, so you’ll probably be undisturbed. There’re a couple of chairs over there – we keep them for people waiting for prescriptions to be made up. Feel free to use them. I’ll be around if you need any help.’

He took himself off, and Nell and Michael carried the book over to the chairs.

Nell opened it with care. The entries began on a page headed April 1870.

ITEM: 6d worth of arsenic, purchased by Mrs Trubb, housekeeper to Sir George Buckle.

PURPOSE OF PURCHASE: to get rid of rats at Boundary Hall, such being a pesky nuisance, and not fitting to a gentleman’s residence. Also for whitening solution for Lady Buckle’s hands.

ITEM: Belladonna and opium, one quarter teaspoonful, purchased by Mrs Trubb.

PURPOSE OF PURCHASE: to cure Sir George Buckle’s costiveness, it being a great trouble to him and everyone else, and not helped even by liquorice and rhubarb infusion or brimstone and treacle mixture.

Note by Mrs Maria Porringer: Mrs Trubb advised to allow Mr Porringer to make up a suppository from belladonna (atropa belladonna) and opium, by the addition of glycerin and theobroma oil, this method being a preferable method to a draught. Mr Trubb (butler to Sir George) shd be able to administer suppository, although must wash his hands very thoroughly both before and after the procedure. One bar lye soap added to order for this purpose.

‘Porringer,’ said Michael, staring at the page. ‘My God, we’ve found them. We really have. This was their shop.’

‘And,’ said Nell, ‘it sounds as if Maria was very much part of the set-up.’ She read the entry again. ‘What always fascinates me about the Victorians is their contradictions,’ she said. ‘That bizarre blend of extreme reticence – covering up chair legs and all the euphemisms they used for childbirth and sex – and then the robust way they’d describe what they used to call ailments. Poor old Sir George, though.’

‘Poor old Sir George’s butler,’ said Michael, grinning, and continued reading the book’s entries.

ITEM: pinch of hyssop (hyssopus officinalis), purchased by Ada Brittle.

PURPOSE OF PURCHASE: children’s cough, which is something chronic at this time of year, no one getting a wink of sleep, and Brittle having to be off to his work at Salamander House at half-past six of a morning.

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