More Story....

ii

As soon as I walk in through the front door I loose all sense of decorum and run straight for the small but perfectly adequate sitting room. I know that my father will be there having a medicinal cup of Burgundy. As I opened the traditional french shuttered door, I see my mother has pushed her embroidery stand full back against the wall:unusual for a mid morning for her not to be sewing even if my father is home. Then, the sight makes me stop in my tracks, I look at her face. She is pale, biting her lower lip and has red circles around her eyes. Both her hands fiddle anxiously in the creases of her dress, knitted fingers, knuckles taught and whitened. Her manner and demeanour is quite changed from the cool easy mother I left and kissed goodbye to this morning. I open the door further. My father is sitting clutching an opened piece of parchment on it a red seal. He is also gripping his knee tightly looking strained. They are not alone. As they turn to see the opening door, I see in the usually unoccupied wooden guest chair a huge man. Possibly the largest man I have ever seen before in my life. It is not only his size that takes me aback and makes me raise my hand to my chest to stop myself from rudely gasping: but his ferocious face. The anger and almost disgust in his eyes, the uneasiness in his stance. He obviously does not want to be here.
'Hannah' papa exclaims joyfully and gets up from his chair to greet me putting a warm large hand on the small of my back to comfort me no doubt. He looks at me intently with his caring brown eyes, urging me further into the room. All the traces of earlier stress and concern have all but disappeared.
'Monsieur Laraux, this is my daughter hannah' Papa pushes me gently towards the horrified stranger who for a second actually seems more frightened of me than I of him. The giant snorts loudly and gives me a look staring at me from my head to my toes. I being well versed in the etiquette and manners this buffoon is lacking, raise my hand towards him and give the smallest and shortest of courtesy's. What he does next is horrific in my eyes, he reaches into his jerkin and produces the hugest kerchief I have ever seen, and places it over his hand and then takes my hand and abruptly drops it. Very undignified indeed.
'Madamoiselle' he greets in a gruff voice. He steps back as if afraid to catch some disease from me. I dislike him intensely, and cannot help but emote this through my eyes. The heat of my stare on him makes him bow his head and stare at the floorboards, highly amusing. He stutters'Proffessor, I will take my leave, Adieu' he uses the same uncouth technique to take my fathers hands. He does not even bother to bow at him as he forces his way out of the sitting room out into the golden sun and the heat of Midday.Papa obviously seeing a mix of intense horror and confusion in my eyes guides me to sit in the guest chair. . I panic slightly as he takes seat in the high backed wooden chair next to mine, and gives my mother a meaningful but quick glance. She responds by nodding slowly, smiling sadly. I turn to look at pap's face, his eyes almost black, lines of dedication etched around them; the result of many nights without proper sleep. He does not posses any of the prominent Jewish traits in his face, he is fair, with dark eyes, like any other man of southern France. He places an understanding hand on my knee.'Hannah you must listen to all that I now tell you and understand it fully. You are old enough not to be deceived, and sharp enough not to believe the lie.'I nod at him in agreeance. I know of his work and the danger that he faces in doing it.'That :gentleman: if that's the word you want to use was a messenger of the Royal court. It seems like the end of days has come again to La France. You know what I mean don't you daughter?' I had read enough of my fathers work to know the turn of phrase was reserved for a disease everyone feared. A disease called the "black death". I nod again taking in every single word that he tells me.
"The messenger bought me a commission, on this parchment Hannah, the virulence has reached Provence, I had to treat it there. It will soon be on our doorstep. They are so desperate for for the best apothecaries they have summoned a Jew' he bursts into a fit of laughter. Personally I cannot find what makes this so funny. It makes perfect sense to me he is the finest apothecary in the South of France. All people in Marseilles know this. I am more concerned about the return of the death.
'We are to stay here for the time being Hannah, ,my sweet child. If and when the Court succumbs, and I am alive and well: we will be summons to Paris to give aid there. You have read all my writings on the illness of bulbous have you not?' Again all I can do is nod. I remember this illness most of all, because I remember thinking it was such a horrific way to die.'Hannah, three quarters of Marseilles will die before this is through: I need you my little aid in these times. Please come down to my laboratory when you have had time to recover from the news. I would very much like to start on work'He gets up and kisses both Mama and I on the top of the head and retires from the room. I sit in awe. Feeling like the young girl I truly am, unable to comprehend how serious the situation really is.