Forged in the Fire by Ann Turnbull Page A

Nat. My anxiety returned.
    At last I turned a corner into Alum Court – and there was the printer’s shop, with the sign of the hand and pen, like Mary’s, and the name
Amos Bligh
above it. The drop-down counter that opened onto the street carried a stock of quills and ink and various kinds of notebook. A youth minded it. I caught his eye and asked, “Is Nathaniel Lacon within?”
    The boy called his name. And then Nat came out of the back of the shop, looking just as I remembered him: young for his age, ink-stained, fair hair hanging in untidy curls. He knew me at once.
    â€œSusanna!” he exclaimed.
    I stepped into the shop and he caught me in a hug which drew all eyes to us and brought tears to mine.
    He set me at arm’s length, still holding on to me. “Su, how didst thou get here? Did Will send for thee?”
    â€œNo. I came alone. Will doesn’t know. I had to come; his letter, and thine, made me so afraid. Is he ill, Nat? Where is he? I went to your lodgings but the woman said to ask thee…”
    â€œThere’s no need to fear.”
    He led me further into the shop and introduced me briefly to the other men as a Friend from home. The sound of the press, the smells of ink and paper, the printed sheets hanging to dry, were all familiar to me and, despite the noise and activity, somehow calming.
    â€œHe’s with our Friend Edmund Ramsey,” said Nat. “Edmund is a wealthy man, a merchant. He took Will from Newgate to care for him. Will has been very sick, but thou need not fear for him now. He is still living at Edmund Ramsey’s house.”
    â€œAnd is he recovered?”
    â€œI hear he is much improved.”
    So the two had not met recently.
    â€œWhere is this house? Is it near? I must see him.”
    â€œThrogmorton Street. It’s near the Exchange. Not far.” He glanced at his idle press. “I’ll go there when I finish work – tell him thou’rt here.” Then, seeing my face, he added, “Or I’ll take thee.”
    â€œBut, Nat, I can go myself, and see him at once.” I couldn’t bear to wait.
    He ran an inky hand through his hair and frowned. “I wouldn’t go there alone, Su. They’re grand folk … big house…”
    â€œI don’t care about that! They’re Friends, you say? They won’t refuse to let me in.”
    â€œNo, of course not.” But he still seemed uncertain. When he saw that I was determined to go alone he gave me directions and said, “I’ll speak to thee tomorrow, perhaps, and hear thy news?”
    â€œYes, for sure. I’m staying at the Three Tuns in Martin’s Lane.”
    So I left him. I could not wait, now, to find Will. I left Alum Court and, following Nat’s instructions, found my way to Cheapside. Despite the press of people, there were still many shops closed and an atmosphere of dejection about the place as the light began to fade. The air was colder now, and I walked on quickly, looking about me till I came upon what must be the entrance to the Exchange. I stopped and gazed in at the large pillared courtyard, crowded with people, and surrounded on three sides by shops – two storeys of them – lit with candles that shone in the deepening dusk. I stood entranced, for I had seen nothing like it before.
    A woman near by smiled at me. She wore a fine fur jacket cut low to show her white bosom.
    â€œIt’s a sad sight,” she said. “Half the shops still shut, and no one of quality here.”
    â€œBut it’s beautiful,” I said.
    She looked me over. “Down from the north, are you?”
    â€œYes.” I began to retreat. I wanted to be on my way now.
    But she laid a hand on my arm. “If you need a place to stay, I can help you.”
    I saw then what she was about, and said, “I thank thee, no,” and moved quickly away. Instead I asked a respectable-looking maidservant,