by Linda Finlay
Ignoring the nausea that was churning her stomach, she bent to retrieve the turnip and knife, then handed them back to him. She could recall her parents talking about the accident at the quarry, which had claimed the lives of five men, leaving others maimed, Joe amongst them.
‘Can’t earn me living no more, but thought I could at least make young Jack a lantern for his guising at Samhain.’
Her heart went out to the old man, but instinct warned her to tread carefully. ‘I’ve always wanted to make one of those, Joe, but wouldn’t know where to begin,’ she said, crossing her fingers behind her back. ‘Could you show me?’
Slowly he turned towards her, hope then suspicion flickering in his eyes.
‘And why would a pretty young thing like yer be wanting to know how to make a turnip lantern?’
Knowing she had to spare his pride she thought hard. Then an image of Beth sprang into her mind.
‘Because, Joe, it would make the perfect present for my little sister.’
The old man studied her carefully then gave her a wizened smile. ‘Yer on, lass. I’ll get us two more turnips. Yer works for Mrs Bodney now, don’t yer? Given yer the day off, has she?’
‘Oh my,’ she gasped, glancing up at the sky and seeing the first rays of red peeping above the cliffs. ‘She’ll have my guts for garters if I don’t rush. Will you be here later?’
He grinned ruefully. ‘Spends most of me time here these days. I’ll see yer by the old boathouse when yer’ve finished yer work. If yer can spare the time, of course,’ he added, looking at her hopefully.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be there,’ she promised, before hurrying back to Picky Pike’s.
‘Ah, Lily, just the person I wanted to see,’ said Mrs Bodney, waylaying her as she hurried down the hallway. ‘I shall be out for the rest of the day. There are things we need to discuss, so I’ll see you in my parlour when you finish work.’ She frowned as she took in Lily’s windswept appearance.
‘I’m afraid that won’t be convenient, Mrs Bodney,’ Lily stammered. ‘I’ve promised to help a friend.’
‘Well, you’d better unpromise then,’ Mrs Bodney commanded, turning on her heel and disappearing into her parlour.
‘But, I can’t,’ Lily called after her.
‘I beg your pardon, Lily?’ asked Mrs Bodney.
‘I said I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Mrs Bodney.’
‘Are you disobeying me, Lily?’ asked Mrs Bodney, her voice as icy as a hoar frost.
Staring at her employer, Lily’s courage almost deserted her. Then she remembered the hopeful look on Joe’s face and stood her ground.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Bodney, I’ve made a promise and when I make a promise I keep it. Perhaps we could discuss things later this evening or even tomorrow first thing?’ But her employer stalked off without answering.
Lily made her way to the workroom, praying her shaking legs wouldn’t give way. She was sure to be dismissed now, but her job appeared to be coming to an end anyway.
‘Blimey, Lily, you look like someone’s taken your last farthing,’ Mary greeted her.
‘Wish I could stroll in just when I feel like it,’ Cora muttered under her breath, causing Lily to lash out.
‘Well, you can’t. And I’ll have you know, there’s been many a night I’ve worked on after you have all left. Now, you’d do well to remember the work here’s nearly completed so your agreement can be ended right now.’
Cora and Nell exchanged glances and an uneasy silence descended on the room. Ignoring them, Lily sat at her pillow and picked up her bobbins. Wary of her mood, the ladies all worked quietly and when noon came, filed outside for their break before she had a chance to ring the bell. Even Mary stayed away from her. A moody maid, her father would have called her, she thought, suddenly feeling unbearably lonely.
The afternoon dragged by and still no one spoke to her, although she did see Mary shooting her puzzled glances once or twice. She knew it was up to her to make amends, but in a peculiar kind of way, she relished being left alone. Finally, she heard the ladies tidying away their things, then their voices fading as they clattered and chattered their way down the lane. No guesses as to what their topic of conversation would be, she thought. Breathing a sigh of relief that she could leave the workroom at last, she covered her pillow and pulled on her shawl.
Hurrying down to the beach, Lily saw it was a hive of noise and activity. The fishing fleet had returned and their luggers and crabbers were beached broadside, whilst their catch and fishing gear was carried up onto the Hard. Gulls circled and screeched, impatient to scavenge the scraps and fish guts they knew would be left on the pebbles.
Then the squire appeared in the doorway of the alehouse and Lily ducked into the shadows, but he was busy talking to the haulers and didn’t see her. Then, as he staggered up the hill the others made their way down the beach, ready to haul the boats further out of the water. The fishermen, glad to be back safely on dry land, were laughing as they stowed their nets. Lily couldn’t help peering around hopefully, but, of course, there was no sign of Tom.
Joe was waiting by the old boathouse as he’d said he would, two turnips and a knife by his side. He looked so pleased to see her she couldn’t help but smile back. ‘That’s better. Looked like a black tornado, ye did, roaring down the hill. That old dragon given yer a hard time, has she?’
‘I haven’t seen her all day. Well, not since I refused to do what she wanted.’
To her amazement he grinned wickedly.
‘I’d love to have seen her face,’ he chortled. ‘She’s used to getting her own way, that one. What wouldn’t yer do, then?’
‘Break a promise,’ she said. Then, seeing his knowing look, she quickly changed the subject.
‘I just saw the squire staggering up the hill. He spends a lot of his time in the alehouse, doesn’t he?’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘I guess he’s really unhappy inside.’
‘Hmm, we all have our crosses to bear,’ Joe grunted, staring down at his misshapen hands. ‘He’ll have been up in the tallet over the kitchen plotting and planning his dealings.’
‘Dealings?’
‘Yer knows, with them free traders,’ he said, tapping the side of his nose with a mangled finger. ‘He does all the planning and ordering. Then away he goes, leaving the others to do the risky work of transporting the spoils up to the manor house, with the best going up to London by yon fancy carriage.’
She looked up into the gloom where Joe indicated and thought the vehicle looked similar to Rupert’s.
‘What kind of spoils?’ she asked, remembering the Christmas smell in his carriage.
‘Brandy, baccy, tea, spices, silks and whatever else they’ve brought in,’ Joe said, shrugging. Before she could ask any further questions, another group of haulers passed by and he quickly looked down at the turnips.
‘Right, show me how to make these lanterns then,’ Lily said, taking the hint and changing the subject.
‘You whittle, I’ll guide,’ Joe said.
At first, Lily found it difficult cutting into the hard vegetable, especially in the gathering gloom, but Joe was patient, and under his guidance she soon relaxed. By the time she’d scored out twisted curves for the mouths, she was enjoying herself.
‘Well, lass, those will look real scary when they’re lit up. My Jack will be right pleased when I show him what yer’ve made.’
‘No, Joe, what we’ve made. We’ve done these together.’ She saw him look down at his hands. ‘Your brains; my labour,’ she added. He was silent for a few moments, then nodded.
‘Yer real kind, lass. Most people look at my hands and think I’m only fit for the scrap heap, but yer’ve proved that ain’t the case and I’m right thankful.’
‘And I’m grateful to you, because now I’ve got a turnip lamp to take to Beth.’
He put out his hand and, without hesitating, Lily took it and shook it.
‘Mrs Bodney says it’s the way things look that matters, but
you know, Joe, I don’t think she’s necessarily correct.’
‘Aye, that’s always been her way, lass, but that don’t mean it’s the right one for yer. Yer has a heart of gold so yer just go with what yer feel.’
‘Thank you, Joe,’ she said, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her. Grinning, she picked up her lantern. ‘I know Beth is going to love this.’
Tramping back up the now deserted beach, she wondered if she’d have time to visit Coombe before Samhain. She could remember the fun they’d had last year, Father and Rob had carved out the turnips while she’d helped her mother bake the special apple pie. They’d set extra places at the table so their departed loved ones could join them for supper, for it was that special night of the year when the veil between this world and the next was at its thinnest.
She stopped in her tracks, tingling with excitement. Suppose her mother and father were to pay her a visit this Samhain? Or her nana and granddad? Her nana! That was what had been niggling her when she woke, for hadn’t the wise old woman told her that problems had a way of sorting themselves while you slept? You simply had to look for the answers in your dreams.
Feeling happier than she had for ages, she let herself into Picky Pike’s. She was just placing the lantern on the ledge by the front door when Mrs Bodney came storming out of the workroom.
‘How dare you go out and leave the door unbolted?’ she spluttered.
Lily stared at her in dismay. ‘But I didn’t, Mrs Bodney.’
‘You did. The door to the workroom was wide open. What if the Queen’s lace had been stolen?’
‘What?’ Lily gasped.
‘Luckily Tilda saw you leave and came at once to inform me. I’ve just this minute finished checking everything’s in order and now you come breezing in, beaming like a blooming beacon.’
‘But I’m certain I bolted it,’ Lily repeated.
‘And I’ll have none of these heathen things in my house, thank you,’ Mrs Bodney snapped, sweeping the lantern onto the floor. ‘I shudder to think what would have happened had all that work been stolen. If it’d got into the wrong hands, the Queen would have had my neck in a noose. Your behaviour today has been irresponsible and disappointing, to say the least.’
‘But, Mrs Bodney, I did bolt the door.’
‘You couldn’t have done, ’cos it was wide open,’ Tilda said from behind them. Both women spun round. ‘Mr Mountsford couldn’t believe it when he heard and—’ At the mention of her merchant’s name Mrs Bodney’s eyes widened.
‘Are you telling me Mr Mountsford has called here, Tilda?’ she asked. ‘When was this?’
‘It was when you were in the workroom, Mrs Bodney. He asked what was going on and I told him about Lily leaving the workroom door open. When I said I’d go and get you, he said not to bother as you was obviously busy. Then he left,’ Tilda said, looking very pleased with herself.
‘How dare you divulge personal information about my household?’ Mrs Bodney exploded. ‘I expect discretion at all times, as you should well know. Pack your things and leave this instant.’
‘But I was only doing as—’
‘I said go,’ Mrs Bodney repeated. Then, ignoring Tilda’s wails, she swept into her parlour, closing the door firmly behind her.
CHAPTER 36
Lily turned to the sobbing maid. ‘Whatever possessed you, Tilda? We both know the workroom door was bolted so why did you tell Mrs Bodney it wasn’t?’
‘It was ’cos of Mr Mountsford. He said he’d buy me … I thought if you was gone he … Oh, what am I to do now?’ she cried, before turning and rushing out of the front door, leaving Lily staring after her.
‘Tilda’s run off, Mrs Bodney,’ Lily said, hurrying into the parlour. ‘Do you think I should go after her?’
‘After the trouble she tried to cause you, Lily?’ her employer answered, looking surprised.
‘Me? I don’t understand, Mrs Bodney. I’m sure I haven’t upset her in any way.’
‘Not directly, perhaps, but the poor girl was sweet on our dear merchant.’ As if a candle had been lit, Lily suddenly understood the reason for the girl’s blushes on his previous visits. Clearly, he’d been playing with her affections as well. The cad!
‘I’d have been dispensing of her services shortly anyway, so she’s saved me a job,’ her employer said, waving her hands dismissively.
‘That seems rather harsh, Mrs Bodney. She’s only a young girl, after all.’
There was a pause, as if her employer was choosing her words carefully. Finally she turned to Lily, looking even more serious than she had before.
‘Life is harsh, Lily. And as for Tilda being young, don’t be fooled. In many ways she’s more worldly-wise than you, only too eager to grasp anything that was offered, willing to offer … Oh, never mind. Go and smarten up. You look more like a gutter snipe than my overseer.’
Out in the hallway, Lily looked down at her dress, shocked to see grains of sand and fronds of weed clinging to its hem. Why hadn’t she noticed before? Hurrying out to the pump, she sponged down the material, then looking around and seeing the yard was deserted, she dunked her head under the running water. Gasping at its coolness, she let it run through her long tresses for a few moments before squeezing out as much as she could. Hopping up on the wall, she began braiding it. What a day it had been, she mused as she sat gazing down towards the harbour. The rising moon was spreading silvery fingers of light, like the rungs of a ladder, across the inky waters, and she had a sudden longing to hear her father’s wise words. A voice sounded behind her.
‘Playing at mermaids today, are we? Well, you certainly are a woman of many guises, Lily Rose.’
Her heart sank. The silky tones of the squire did little to hide his intent. Perhaps if she didn’t rise to the bait he’d lose interest and go away. Forcing a smile, she turned to face him.
‘Good evening, Squire Clinsden,’ she answered, trying not to shudder at the lecherous way he was looking her up and down with his bloodshot eyes.
‘Prettying yourself up for your merchant, are you?’ he asked, placing his hand on her arm. ‘How about being nice to me instead?’
‘I think you should go home to your wife,’ Lily answered, wondering where her daring had come from.
‘She spends all her time on charitable works these days,’ he said sullenly.
‘Well, I think it’s wonderful all the things she does for the elderly fisher folk and—’
‘Yes, yes, but a man needs his home comforts,’ he said, moving his hand up to her hair and attempting to undo her braid. ‘You do realize that fancy merchant was merely using you as an alibi? Now, I don’t need one, so if you were to be nice to me, I would teach you all you need to know about society,’ he leered, his hand digging into her shoulder.
She tried to move along the wall, away from his grasp.
‘Still acting the innocent, eh? Well, don’t be too hasty, young lady. Beggars can’t be choosers, and from what I hear, you’ll soon be requiring a new position and somewhere to live. Now, with Molly gone from the manor—’
‘Take your hands off her this instant.’ Surprised, the squire did as he’d been bid and, seizing the opportunity, Lily jumped to the ground.
‘I was only trying to—’ the squire simpered.
‘On your way, you pathetic excuse for a man. And in future leave Lily alone,’ the figure commanded. Then, as Squire Clinsden sloped off and his adversary moved out of the shadows, Lily gasped in amazement.
‘Tom, oh, Tom, Where’ve you been? You came just in time. He was—’
‘I know, Lily, don’t fret, he’s gone now. He’ll not bother you again. Bullies never fight those who challenge them. I’ve learned that if nothing else. Luckily, I was just on my way to see Mother,’ he said, giving her the wry grin she remembered so well.
‘Good job too,’ she said, her smile growing wider as she moved closer to him.
‘Aye, and it seems you’ve come full circle, what with you needing a job again an
d the squire kindly offering to help,’ he said, stressing the word ‘kindly’.
‘I’ve still got a few weeks left with Mrs Bodney, but then I’ll be seeking work along with all the others. Still, something will turn up,’ she said, grinning at him. He was standing so close she could feel the heat emanating from his body. Her senses tingled in response, making her realize how much she’d missed him.
‘How’ve you been, Tom?’ she asked softly.
‘I’ve been managing fine,’ he answered, his arms reaching out towards her. But then the light went out of his eyes and his arms fell back to his sides.
‘Oh, Tom, I’ve missed you. Haven’t you missed me?’ she asked, looking at him hopefully. For a long moment time seemed suspended as he stood staring at her.
‘Lord knows, Lily, you made me that furious I couldn’t bear to see you again. Doesn’t mean I’ve stopped thinking of you, though,’ he mumbled.
‘Is that why you’ve come back now?’ she asked, brightening.
He shook his head. ‘I was passing through on my way from Coombe when I heard the commotion. Couldn’t just leave you with that brute, could I?’
‘Seems like I’m in your debt then,’ she said, smiling. He shrugged and made to turn away. Her heart flopped. Remembering her dreams and determined not to let the opportunity pass, she swallowed her pride and tried again. ‘I owe you an apology, Tom. Look, it’s a beautiful night, have you time for a walk round the bay, so we can talk?’
‘Well,’ he hesitated. ‘Oh, why not, but you’d best put that bonny hair back up under yer cap,’ he said, grinning.
She smiled. This was more like the Tom she knew. He’d always loved her long hair, she thought, twisting it back into its braid then pulling her cap over it.
‘Is that better?’ she teased.
‘Didn’t want you to catch cold, that’s all,’ he grunted, and her heart plummeted. Still she wasn’t about to give up.
