Read Online The Quickening Maze by Adam Foulds - Free Book Online
Authors: Adam Foulds
Tags: Fiction, Historical fiction, General, Historical, History, England, London, Psychiatric hospitals, Mentally Ill, 19th century, London (England), Mental Health, Tennyson; Alfred Tennyson, London (England) - Social Conditions - 19th Century, Clare; John - Mental Health, Psychiatric Hospitals - England - London - History - 19th Century, Mentally Ill - Commitment and Detention - England - London - History - 19th Century, Commitment and Detention, Poets; English - 19th Century - Mental Health, Poets; English
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was shivering. ‘Come inside.’ With an arm across the bones of her shoulders, he shepherded her into Fairmead House and a fire.
In its thick, disappointing heat she gradually stopped shaking. Hot tea was forced into her, causing pain to the chilled stones of her teeth. The liquid billowed inside her, swelled her. She closed her eyes, let the doctor’s words bump like moths against her, and drifted into sleep.
Eliza Allen opened the door to someone whose face was familiar but unplaceable. The face had evidently been out in the cold for some time, the skin grey and granular. The man blew a fog of warm breath around his hands. He smiled.
‘Do you not recognise me, Eliza?’
With the voice, the accent, she did. ‘Of course I do. It’s Oswald. Come in, come in. I had no idea you were in the area. Matthew hadn’t mentioned to me . . .’
‘Because he doesn’t know. I thought I’d surprise you.’
‘And you have. Come in. Do.’
Oswald stooped to pick up a bag. Presumably he was expecting to stay. When he was upright again a noise startled him. Eliza saw his body for a moment lose organisation. He half-crouched, knees bent, and raised a hand. His gaze locked with hers. ‘One of the patients?’ he whispered.
‘No, no,’ she reassured him.‘That was a dog barking, surely.’
‘Of course.’
Inside, she relieved him of his coat and hat. By the fire his face flushed, his eyes reddened and filmed. He looked tired.
‘Do sit down.’ She indicated the chair.
He did so, crossing his legs and tucking his clasped hands down the side of one thigh in his peculiar fashion, wearing his arms like a sash. By now he was very recognisable. ‘I shall fetch tea. You must need it after your journey.’
‘Most kind.’
She hurried out. Finding Dora in the second drawing room, she instructed her to put down whatever it was and go and tell her father that his brother had suddenly materialised. ‘Father’s in his study,’ Dora replied.
‘Then it won’t take you a moment.’
Eliza returned with a tray of tea things just as her husband launched himself into the room.
‘Oswald, I had no idea.’
‘I didn’t give you any idea,’ his brother smiled. ‘And I’m delighted to see you too.’
Matthew blended a smile and a frown to indicate fondly that the implication was foolish. ‘I’m pleased to see you, too, of course.Your journey was comfortable?’
‘Perfectly agreeable, at least so far as these things are. And I rounded it off with a pleasant walk from Woodford.’
‘You walked up? Carrying your bag? You could have hired a cab, you know. Mr Mason is known around the station to take people.’
‘Oh, no. Thrift, Horatio, thrift.’
Horatio? That meant Hamlet . Oswald was reminding Matthew of the cultured company he kept in York, that not only in London was there literary conversation to be had.Typical of him to arrive stealthily like this, unannounced, and full of messages about himself, all his little flags flying.
Matthew Allen, flustered, forgot the tongs and picked up a lump of sugar with his fingertips, dropping it with a small splash into his tea. ‘It’s a surprising time for you to visit,’ he said, ‘by which I mean for an apothecary. Are you not now besieged by the winter ailments?’
‘Fortunately, yes,’ Oswald laughed. ‘But I have left the shop in good hands. I have an apprentice and two others at the moment.’ More impressive news about himself. ‘I keep my hours at the shop to a minimum now that I’m able, and so have more time for my benevolent activities and so forth.’
‘Oh, very good.’ Matthew gulped his tea.
‘You could have been joined with me in that, had you not chosen another course.’ Oswald smiled. ‘But we needn’t go into that.’
Matthew smiled.‘Ah, but I did choose another course.’ He would not be drawn again into this conversation. Indeed he saw an opportunity for a moment’s triumph and couldn’t resist, relishing the plural he was able to
In its thick, disappointing heat she gradually stopped shaking. Hot tea was forced into her, causing pain to the chilled stones of her teeth. The liquid billowed inside her, swelled her. She closed her eyes, let the doctor’s words bump like moths against her, and drifted into sleep.
Eliza Allen opened the door to someone whose face was familiar but unplaceable. The face had evidently been out in the cold for some time, the skin grey and granular. The man blew a fog of warm breath around his hands. He smiled.
‘Do you not recognise me, Eliza?’
With the voice, the accent, she did. ‘Of course I do. It’s Oswald. Come in, come in. I had no idea you were in the area. Matthew hadn’t mentioned to me . . .’
‘Because he doesn’t know. I thought I’d surprise you.’
‘And you have. Come in. Do.’
Oswald stooped to pick up a bag. Presumably he was expecting to stay. When he was upright again a noise startled him. Eliza saw his body for a moment lose organisation. He half-crouched, knees bent, and raised a hand. His gaze locked with hers. ‘One of the patients?’ he whispered.
‘No, no,’ she reassured him.‘That was a dog barking, surely.’
‘Of course.’
Inside, she relieved him of his coat and hat. By the fire his face flushed, his eyes reddened and filmed. He looked tired.
‘Do sit down.’ She indicated the chair.
He did so, crossing his legs and tucking his clasped hands down the side of one thigh in his peculiar fashion, wearing his arms like a sash. By now he was very recognisable. ‘I shall fetch tea. You must need it after your journey.’
‘Most kind.’
She hurried out. Finding Dora in the second drawing room, she instructed her to put down whatever it was and go and tell her father that his brother had suddenly materialised. ‘Father’s in his study,’ Dora replied.
‘Then it won’t take you a moment.’
Eliza returned with a tray of tea things just as her husband launched himself into the room.
‘Oswald, I had no idea.’
‘I didn’t give you any idea,’ his brother smiled. ‘And I’m delighted to see you too.’
Matthew blended a smile and a frown to indicate fondly that the implication was foolish. ‘I’m pleased to see you, too, of course.Your journey was comfortable?’
‘Perfectly agreeable, at least so far as these things are. And I rounded it off with a pleasant walk from Woodford.’
‘You walked up? Carrying your bag? You could have hired a cab, you know. Mr Mason is known around the station to take people.’
‘Oh, no. Thrift, Horatio, thrift.’
Horatio? That meant Hamlet . Oswald was reminding Matthew of the cultured company he kept in York, that not only in London was there literary conversation to be had.Typical of him to arrive stealthily like this, unannounced, and full of messages about himself, all his little flags flying.
Matthew Allen, flustered, forgot the tongs and picked up a lump of sugar with his fingertips, dropping it with a small splash into his tea. ‘It’s a surprising time for you to visit,’ he said, ‘by which I mean for an apothecary. Are you not now besieged by the winter ailments?’
‘Fortunately, yes,’ Oswald laughed. ‘But I have left the shop in good hands. I have an apprentice and two others at the moment.’ More impressive news about himself. ‘I keep my hours at the shop to a minimum now that I’m able, and so have more time for my benevolent activities and so forth.’
‘Oh, very good.’ Matthew gulped his tea.
‘You could have been joined with me in that, had you not chosen another course.’ Oswald smiled. ‘But we needn’t go into that.’
Matthew smiled.‘Ah, but I did choose another course.’ He would not be drawn again into this conversation. Indeed he saw an opportunity for a moment’s triumph and couldn’t resist, relishing the plural he was able to
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