by Linda Finlay
‘Don’t look so worried. Grace came and collected her while the parson was giving your mother the last rites. There’s no point in the little lamb having to know before she needs. She’ll be better off staying with Harriet whilst we sort things out here, and happen you need a bit of looking after yourself, after the shock you’ve had …’ Her voice tailed off when she saw that Lily wasn’t listening.
‘I can see that Beth can’t sleep in the same room as … oh, Aunt Elizabeth, it’s all so horrible, and to think I was planning to tell Mother my good news …’
Her aunt leaned forward and patted her hand. ‘What good news was that, Lily?’
‘Mrs Bodney’s made me up to overseer,’ she cried. ‘She increased my wages by quite a lot and I was planning to move us all to Bransbeer.’ She looked sadly towards the next room. ‘What happens now, Auntie?’
Aunt Elizabeth patted her shoulder. ‘The parson said he could do the funeral next Wednesday. Would you like me to see to the arrangements?’
Woeful Wednesday, how appropriate, Lily thought.
‘Yes, please. I really wouldn’t know where to begin.’
‘Perhaps you’d like to choose a couple of her favourite hymns?’ her aunt suggested and Lily nodded, relieved there was something she could do.
‘Why don’t you go down to the church and look in the hymnal? Then you can tell the parson.’
As Lily got up to leave, she glanced towards the next room. ‘What about—’
‘Your mother will be quite all right, my dear. I should imagine she’s with your father by now, God rest her soul,’ her aunt said, sighing and making the sign of the cross.
Glad to be out of the cottage, Lily ran down the shadowy lane towards the church, almost colliding with Tom, who was hurrying up the lane towards her.
‘Oh, Tom, something dreadful has happened,’ she cried.
‘I know,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘Parson Peddicombe told me. I came as fast as I could. Ran all the way,’ he gasped, pausing to catch his breath. ‘I’m that sorry about your mother, Lily, but I likes to think she’s at peace now.’
‘She is, Tom. I’m sure of it. She was lying on the bed just like she was asleep, but she looked – oh I don’t know – it was as if all the sadness had drained out of her.’
‘She never recovered from losing your father. Happen they’re together again now.’
‘That’s just what Aunt Elizabeth said. She’s sent me to the church to choose some hymns for the funeral. It’s next Wednesday. You will come, won’t you? Please?’
‘Of course, I will.’ He sighed. ‘I waited for you earlier, Lily.’
‘Mrs Bodney asked me to stay on. She had something important to discuss …’
‘Sorry, Lily, I have to go. I wish I could stay, but we’re sailing at first light. I just had to come and make sure you’re all right,’ he murmured, squeezing her hand. ‘Look, Lily, leave the hymns until tomorrow. There’s talk the owlers will be busy transporting their goods this night, so I’d feel better knowing you was indoors.’ She shuddered and Tom patted her shoulder. ‘I wish I could walk you back but there’s no time. Promise me you’ll go home now?’ he asked. Reluctantly, she nodded and then watched as he ran back down the track.
‘Godspeed and bring you safely home, my love,’ she whispered. A hoot nearby made her jump, sending her scuttling back to the cottage. Whether it was an owl or owler she wasn’t waiting to find out. She’d heard that the menacing hoodlums who moved their wool under the cover of darkness made short work of anyone they encountered and she wasn’t going to risk bumping into them. Besides, she knew her mother’s favourite hymns had been ‘Love divine, all loves excelling’ and ‘Rock of ages’. She’d taught Lily all the words and they’d often sung them as they worked side by side at their pillows. Her heart tugged at the memory, and she dashed away the tears as she ran back down the lane.
Glad to be safely home, she hurried indoors, eager for some company. However, her aunt had already left and Rob was nowhere to be seen. He was probably consoling himself with his beloved chickens, she thought.
Unable to contemplate sleeping in the same room where her mother was laid out, Lily dragged her mattress out and placed it in front of the fire. Then, covering herself with the blankets, she tried to sleep but her thoughts kept going over the events of the day. She was still awake when her brother hobbled into the room.
‘Rob,’ she said, but he didn’t answer. Instead he climbed onto his mattress and made a show of pulling the covers up over his head. Oh, blow him, Lily thought, turning over and falling into a fitful sleep.
After a restless night, Lily was roused by the cockerel raucously heralding the dawn. Stiffly she rose from her makeshift bed. She could hear her brother’s gentle snoring and, not wishing to wake him, hurried outside to the barn. Climbing into the donkey-cart, she thought about calling in to see Beth, then chided herself. Her sister would probably still be asleep and Lily would not be popular if she woke the household.
Urging Doris onwards, she relaxed in her seat and let her thoughts drift back to happier times: how thrilled she’d been when her father let her help him in the orchard, claiming he would never be able to pick all the apples by himself; sitting beside her mother learning to make lace, and how excited she’d been when she’d finished her first sprig; paddling in the stream with Rob, catching tiddlers and having water fights; cradling young Beth in her arms just after she’d been born and declaring her to be wrinkled as a prune, much to her mother’s dismay.
When she arrived at the cottage, she found Mrs Bodney waiting for her.
‘I was sorry to hear about your mother, Lily. I know it will have come as a great shock to you. Are you quite sure you feel up to starting your new position today?’
‘Thank you, Mrs Bodney. I’ll be fine.’
The other woman patted her arm and Lily couldn’t help but notice how relieved she looked.
‘It’s better to keep busy, my father always said.’
‘Quite. As overseer, it is your responsibility to ensure only the lace ladies enter the workroom. Tilda has been given strict instructions to that effect. Now, come with me,’ Mrs Bodney instructed, leading the way upstairs and into what appeared to be her own bedroom. ‘You need to look the part of overseer, for it will be your duty to receive merchants and tradespeople in my absence.’ She pointed to the bed where a fine black cotton dress, white linen bonnet and apron were laid out. Then Lily noticed the corset and grimaced. The other woman smiled.
‘The female figure is enhanced when it is contained and your dress will hang in a better fashion. It is a good discipline to adopt and, I can assure you from personal experience, it will correct your posture and guarantee you move in a ladylike manner. Now hurry and change so you’re ready when the others arrive. After I’ve explained your new position to them, I shall go and see to the ladies at High House. However, I will endeavour to be back before you leave this evening to find out how you’ve managed,’ she said.
There was so much to take in, Lily’s head was spinning. Then, seeing her employer was waiting for an answer, she nodded. Seeming satisfied, Mrs Bodney bustled from the room.
Looking down at her new outfit laid out on the bed, she felt a tingle of excitement, but when she tried to wriggle into the corset she felt like the contortionist she’d seen at the Cuckoo Fair in April. Then, when she did finally manage to get the wretched thing on, she could hardly breathe. It was so tight she was sure she’d faint. She struggled into the white cotton petticoat and then the dark dress, marvelling at the softness of the material. It was far superior to anything she’d ever worn before and to her delight the full skirts swished about her ankles when she moved. It was a good job it was black, she thought with a pang, for now she was in mourning for her mother.
Hearing the chattering of voices coming up the path, she hastily donned her apron, wondering how her fellow workers would take the news she was to be their overseer. She didn’t have to wait long to find out. Making
her way to the workroom, she heard Cora’s indignant protest and the mutterings of the other ladies. As she hesitated in the doorway, Mrs Bodney looked up and smiled reassuringly.
‘Come in, Lily,’ Mrs Bodney said, beckoning to her. ‘Ladies, you are to co-operate and make Lily’s job as easy as you can. She has my authority to dismiss anyone who makes trouble or breaches the working conditions I set out on your first day. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes, Mrs Bodney,’ they intoned, and with a brisk nod of her head she left the room, her skirts bustling in her wake. Lily swallowed nervously.
‘Well, get you, Lily Rose, all dolled up like a donkey’s thingummy,’ Nell sniggered.
‘You needn’t think we’re taking orders from you,’ Cora snorted.
Lily stared at their hostile faces and felt like fleeing.
Peasants persist, Lily. It’s up to you to lead the way, not run away. You can do it.
She heard her father’s words of encouragement and squared her shoulders, determined not to let him down.
‘Right, ladies,’ she said firmly. ‘As you heard, Mrs Bodney has appointed me to oversee the work here. And, with your co-operation, that is all I will need to oversee,’ she said, smiling at them.
‘Oh, yeah? How do you make that out?’ Cora spat, her green eyes glinting like a cat’s.
Lily swallowed but refused to be intimidated. Striving to keep her voice calm, she smiled and looked at each of them in turn.
‘You are skilled lace makers and I trust you to work diligently. However, if anyone requires help they only have to ask. Mrs Bodney has already outlined our schedule and we know the deadline we are working to.’ Lily paused, endeavouring to meet their glares with a friendly smile. Although silence greeted her words, she continued to smile until her face was as stiff as the washing on a frosty morning.
‘Well, I’m pleased it’s you who’s overseeing us, Lily,’ Mary said eventually. ‘And I’d just like to say how sorry I was to hear about your mother.’
‘Thank you, Mary,’ Lily answered and, feeling tears welling, she swallowed hard. Then, to cover her emotion, she said in her best imitation of Mrs Bodney, ‘Well now, let’s get on with our work, shall we?’ Picking up her bobbins, she began weaving the threads under and over, following the pattern she’d pricked out. There were a few mutters but, to her relief, everyone followed her example.
Halfway through the morning, she was disturbed by the sound of clattering followed by muffled giggles. Looking up, she saw Cora and Nell rolling their bobbins across the floor to each other.
‘Stop that this instant,’ she ordered, jumping to her feet. Cora stared at Nell and then deliberately sent another spinning towards her. As Nell giggled, Lily marched over and snatched up the offending bobbins.
‘If you wish to behave like children, then take yourselves outside,’ she instructed. As Cora and Nell stared at her defiantly, the others looked up from their work. An undercurrent of excitement rippled around the room as they waited to see how Lily was going to handle the situation. Well, there could be only one outcome, Lily thought. Carefully she inspected the thread remaining on the bobbins.
‘Cora and Nell, luckily for you the thread hasn’t soiled otherwise I would have had to deduct the damages from your wages,’ she said.
Their looks of amusement turned to outrage.
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ Cora spluttered while Nell’s pale complexion turned ashen.
‘As I said, it won’t be necessary this time, Cora. However, if you don’t return to your work immediately, I shall deduct money for time wasted.’
Nell promptly sat down and after a few moments Cora followed. The other ladies resumed their work and Lily breathed a sigh of relief.
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully and when the church clock chimed noon, Lily rang the little bell signalling it was time for their break. As the lace makers filed outside into the yard, there were a few baleful looks cast in her direction but Mary smiled at her reassuringly.
‘Give them time, Lily,’ she whispered.
Lily nodded and was just wondering whether she should join them when Tilda tapped on the door and announced that Squire Clinsden was waiting to see her. Biting back the retort that sprang to her lips, she followed the maid through to the parlour where the man was impatiently pacing the floor.
‘Lily, my condolences on the sad demise of your mother,’ he said solicitously, but as soon as the door had shut behind the maid, his demeanour changed. ‘I take it you are ready to end this farce,’ he growled.
‘I’m sorry, sir, I’m not sure I understand you,’ she said, trying to keep her voice level.
‘Oh, we understand each other perfectly, Lily, so don’t play games.’
‘Sir, I have duties to attend to, so please state your business,’ she said, looking him square in the face.
‘Don’t you get uppity with me, young lady; in order to save you and your family from being homeless I offered you a position in my household. I’m here for your answer. You needn’t think I made a special visit, though. I had business in Bransbeer and thought I’d see to two birds in one go,’ he said, guffawing at what he clearly saw as his wit. She shuddered, guessing the nature of his business only too well.
‘Thank you, sir, but, as I’ve already told you, I am satisfied with my position here,’ she answered serenely. Now she knew how a swan felt: all calm on the surface while it paddled furiously under the water.
The squire’s face turned redder still. Determined not to be browbeaten, Lily continued looking him straight in the eye.
‘Let me remind you that your family will be out on the street come the quarter-day. Do you want to see your brother and sister in the gutters of Coombe? Surely that’s not what your dear mother would have wanted?’
Oh, how low, she thought. ‘I appreciate your concern, sir, but I assure you it won’t come to that. I take my duties towards my family seriously and have already decided what we shall do. Now if you’ll excuse me I have work to see to,’ she said, snatching up the little brass bell from the table and ringing it vigorously. As he stared at her in disbelief, Tilda appeared in the doorway.
‘Squire Clinsden is leaving. Please show him out.’
‘You’ll be sorry for this,’ he hissed before stomping from the room.
Trembling, she sank onto the chair and covered her face with her hands. She had made a powerful enemy, she knew, but the idea of being friendly with the squire was even more frightening.
CHAPTER 8
‘Are you all right, miss?’ Looking up, Lily saw the maid hovering in the doorway, eyeing her anxiously.
‘Yes, thank you, Tilda,’ she said, forcing a smile. Then, taking a breath to steady herself, she hurried back to the workroom and summoned the ladies in from the yard.
Although they came in willingly enough, she could sense the underlying tension as they settled themselves at their pillows.
‘Oops, I think I’ve put a pin in the wrong place,’ Nell announced, not sounding the least bit concerned.
Lily went over to look at her work. ‘I can’t see anything amiss,’ she said, frowning down at the perfect sprig before her.
‘Silly me, I must have been mistaken,’ Nell giggled, shaking her mane of copper hair.
‘Easily done,’ Lily said lightly. ‘However, I think you should put your cap back on before Mrs Bodney returns. She won’t be pleased if she finds red hair over your lace work.’
Nell glowered, muttered something under her breath and then reluctantly did as she’d been asked.
Impatient to resume her own work, Lily hurried back to her stool but as she sat down a flash of grey caught her eye. Bending to see what it was, her eyes widened in surprise when she saw a mouse nibbling the straw that was poking through a hole in her pillow. As she watched, the creature edged closer to the pristine white of her thread. Deftly scooping it up, she hurried to the door and let it go. She watched it scuttle to freedom, fervently wishing she could join it.
 
; Hearing barely suppressed giggles, she turned to face the lace makers. It was obvious from the looks of amusement Cora and Nell were exchanging, that this had been planned in retaliation for earlier. When they saw Lily staring at them, they quickly looked down at their work.
Returning to her stool, Lily stared at her damaged pillow. Pranks she could put up with, wilful damage she could not ignore.
‘Who slit my pillow?’ she demanded, looking around the workroom, which was now ominously silent. ‘Put down your bobbins this minute,’ she instructed. The lace makers stared at her in amazement but did as they’d been told. ‘I will ask you once more. Who did this?’ she asked, pointing to the slit in her pillow and then staring at each of them in turn. Although they fidgeted on their stools, still no one answered. Knowing she needed to gain the upper hand or she’d never command the respect required of an overseer, she ordered firmly, ‘No more work will be done until the culprit owns up.’
‘But before she left, Mrs Bodney said we had to produce more,’ Anna said.
‘Precisely,’ Lily answered. ‘And if those responsible don’t own up soon, you will still be sitting here like stuffed dolls when she returns.’
‘You wouldn’t dare …’ spluttered Cora.
Lily raised an eyebrow but remained silent. Although her insides were quivering she was determined to maintain a calm exterior. As one, the lace makers turned and glared at Cora but she studiously ignored them. Defiantly she picked up her bobbins.
‘Put those down, Cora,’ Lily instructed. ‘I said no more work was to be done until the culprit owns up. Do you have anything to say?’
‘Yes, I blooming well do, Lily Rose. You think you’re so high and mighty but you’re no better than us. You only got this overseer job by sucking up to Mrs Bodney.’
‘Put down your bobbins, Cora,’ Lily repeated, ignoring the outburst. ‘Well, it’s up to you to decide whether you want to waste what’s left of the afternoon or not. However, Mrs Bodney won’t be happy if your work is behind schedule when she returns.’
As if to emphasize her words, the clock on the church chimed the hour. The ladies, looking decidedly uncomfortable, started squirming in their seats.