Free The Wet Nurse's Tale by Erica Eisdorfer Page A

staring, “my baby is as alive as yours! He is at home with my mother, who is feeding him by hand whilst I am here for yours.” Then, as I saw her face change, I realized that I spoke too brashly. I said quickly, “I do miss him but your William is sweet and you are so kind.”
    “But, Susan,” said she, still horrified, “what of him? How could you leave him?”
    I shook my head and thought how stupid rich people can be. She would not like it, I knew, if I told her I was there because she paid me. She wanted to think that I suckled her baby because I loved him and that I accepted the money like it was an afterthought. “There was nothing for it, ma’am,” I said, “it was how it had to be.”
    “I cannot understand it,” said she, “but I tell you again: I am glad for it.”
    “He’s asleep now,” said I, looking down. “Shall you hold him or shall I put him down?”
    “I’ll hold him for a moment,” said she, and she grasped him like she hadn’t seen him in weeks.
    I closed the door soft when I left the room. I saw that Mrs. Holcomb could not understand how things were at my house; how my father would drive me and Joey both out if I were to leave this position. A pound a month wasn’t nothing to turn a back on in my family. I doubted that even Mrs. Hart back at the Great House earned as much. But that was life in town, and whether it was to my misfortune or not to have the slot, Reader, I leave it to you to say.

    One day, after I had been with the Holcombs for over two months, Mrs. Potts told me that she planned to visit her aunt in a fortnight and that if I could work it with the household, I might accompany her. I was right wild with joy. It was the evening and I was having my dinner while Mrs. Holcomb sang the baby to sleep which she liked to do now and again, before he slept. He was a dear little thing and had grown fat and rosy and slept as well now as anyone could ever wish. I could not wait to ask her permission for my visit home.
    The Holcombs finally finished their dinner, and since they had dined without guests, I thought to ask the butler to beg for a moment of their time for me. I was shown in and I curtsied deep and then looked up at Mrs. Holcomb’s worried face.
    “Susan,” said she, “surely there is nothing wrong?”
    “Oh no, ma’am, the baby is sleeping like a little angel.”
    “What is it then?”
    I tried to be dignified but my happiness made my words tumble. I described the opportunity. “And, ma’am,” said I, “William will be well cared for. I have seen to it. I asked Mrs. Kildare’s nurse Ratliff whether she could take him on, just for a very few days, and she said she thought she could and she would ask her mistress. And you could cut my pay for that piece of time . . .”
    Mrs. Holcomb interrupted me. “Susan, you are ahead of yourself. How can you wish to leave William in the hands of someone he does not know? He knows you, Susan, and would perhaps be too shy to sup from anyone else and might take ill!”
    “Oh but,” said I.
    “Really, Susan, I am shocked that you . . . that is, I know that you want to see your own child, I’m sure you do, but you know that William is delicate . . .”
    “But, ma’am, he’s plump as a peach, he is. And twould be three days only, and . . .”
    “That will do, Susan,” said Mr. Holcomb in a sharp voice. Mrs. Holcomb had jumped up from the sofa where she’d been drinking coffee and had turned away. I could see her slender back shaking. My shock had made me numb and I could not yet believe that she would not grant me leave to see my child.
    “Susan,” said Mr. Holcomb, “please leave us. Mrs. Holcomb and I will discuss the matter and be sure to give you a final answer very soon. I know that you are distressed but please compose yourself. I have heard that the baby’s milk may be affected by the nurse’s moods. Please try to collect yourself as best you can.”
    I opened my mouth and closed it and curtsied and left