The Apothecary Page 0,90
in a notebook in a tiny, crabbed script that I recognised from the margins of the Pharmacopoeia. Benjamin was bundled in blankets, asleep on the other side of the narrow aisle. My mind felt clear for the first time since I’d fallen to the sea from the crashing helicopter.
“Will he be all right?” I asked.
“The fever has broken,” the apothecary said, as if he had no faith in predictions, only in facts.
“Did you give him something to heal him?”
“I did,” the apothecary said. “But it wasn’t easy. He was very close to death.”
Vili took up two seats in front of us, and he seemed to be asleep, too. Jin Lo wasn’t on the plane, and I feared she had died on Nova Zembla and no one had told me in my vulnerable condition. I looked to the apothecary and he seemed to read my mind.
“She’s fine,” he said. “She’s staying in Norway for now. It’s safer for her there. She’s too recognisable to the authorities in London.”
I breathed again, relieved.
“You understand,” he said, “that we stood no chance against a Soviet destroyer.”
“I know,” I said. “You made the right decision.”
The apothecary shook his head. “Benjamin took the extra avian elixir to go back for you. I should have known he would. I can never forgive myself. I made so many mistakes.”
“But it all worked out.”
The apothecary made a gesture that was both a shrug of assent and a head shake of dismissal. “I’ll do better next time.”
The idea of a next time made me feel tremendously tired. “Can I go sit with Benjamin?” I asked.
The apothecary nodded. I was amazed how weak my arms felt, pushing my body out of the seat.
“Janie,” the apothecary said. “The police will be looking for us in London. Our forged papers identify us as a family. When we arrive at Heathrow, my son’s name is James, and you’re his sister, Victoria.”
I smiled. “I’ll see if we can work up some kind of spat.”
“Good. Oh, and Victoria—”
“Yes?”
The apothecary’s eyes were serious behind his spectacles. “I can never thank you enough for saving my son’s life.”
But I didn’t need any thanks. I slid into the seat beside Benjamin’s sleeping body and slipped my arm under his. After a few minutes, he stirred and interlaced his fingers through mine, and turned to look at me.
“Janie,” he said hoarsely.
I was so happy to hear his voice that tears came to my eyes. “You’re awake!”
He tried to sit up straighter, then winced as if moving hurt. “Ow,” he said, reaching for his forehead.
“Don’t move,” I said. “Just sit.”
He closed his eyes again. “You’re here,” he said. “My father didn’t want to go back for you.”
“He was trying to save you,” I said. “But you did come back.”
“I couldn’t stay a bird. I tried, but I was falling.”
“I know.”
“I keep having dreams about it.”
“Me too.”
“But we’re safe now?”
I nodded.
“And the others?”
“They’re fine. Jin Lo’s in Norway and Vili’s asleep. Your father’s here. He’s so happy to have you back.”
The apothecary handed me something across the aisle in a little brown bottle, for Benjamin to drink. After a few minutes, I could see the colour coming back to his cheeks, and he was able to sit up straight without wincing. By the time the plane shuddered to a stop on the runway, he was able to walk off by himself.
We moved slowly through Heathrow Airport, and through customs, and my heart pounded as an official glanced at our forged papers. I hoped I wouldn’t have to put on an English accent and say my name was Victoria. But the official asked us nothing. He stamped the papers and handed them back, looking bored.
As we left the terminal, we passed the portrait of the young Queen Elizabeth II that my parents and I had seen on our arrival in London, only a month before. I remembered my father saying that things could be worse—I could be queen. But the queen looked very warm and dry and clean, and not wanted by the police. It didn’t look so bad.
“What are we going to tell my parents?” I asked the apothecary.
“What do you want to tell them?”
“Everything,” I said. “But I don’t think they’ll believe it.”
He nodded. “We’re all very tired,” he said. “We’ll take you home, and you can sleep. We’ll meet tomorrow to tell them the whole story. Perhaps your friend Pip could come, too.”
CHAPTER 37
The Wine of Lethe
We took a taxi to my parents’ flat, and I went in alone. I