by Althea Blue
By the time Patience was down to a few bunches of parsley and rosemary, she was exhausted and ready to head home. Her cart was heavier that trip, her purchases being of greater weight than the things she’d sold, and she wished she'd left earlier than she had. She entered the woods in the same place she’d emerged and, despite her exhaustion, took a route through the deeper woods, pausing every so often to make sure she couldn’t hear anyone following her. She didn’t know why they would bother, but she’d promised Ada that she would be extremely careful and so she was.
The sun was just setting by the time she saw the house through a gap in the trees, and her arms felt ready to fall off. Still, she looked around her, making sure no one was near before pushing the cart right to the front door, unlocking and starting to toss things inside. Ada joined her immediately, she must have been peeking out a window to see Patience arrive, and together everything was transferred into the house and the cart stored away in only a few minutes.
Only once the door was closed behind Patience did she greet Ada with a kiss. “That was rather more exhausting than I had expected,” she said.
Ada grinned. “I have supper ready, and then we can move everything to the pantry. You look like you did well.”
“Nearly sold out. You were right though, the herbs probably weren’t worth the bother. I will take fewer next time. No one wanted them until the end of the day.” She followed Ada into the kitchen where a pot of stew was bubbling away on the stove and bowls were already waiting to be filled. She had snagged the sack of sugar, and they enjoyed sweetened tea with their dinner, a treat they hadn’t had for a while.
#
One month later, Patience retraced her route to the market and set up her stall in the same place as before. This time she had the money ready when Hebbet came to collect. She didn’t know if Hebbet was the man’s Christian or surname, but she supposed it didn’t matter. She had more vegetables this trip. Everything in the garden seemed to be ripe at once.
As she ate her lunch, a shadow fell over her, blocking the sun from her face. Prepared for customers she lay her apple down on her napkin and quickly rose to her feet. “Can I help you, sir?” she asked the young man who towered over her.
The boy smiled at her.
“My father sent me over to buy some things. He specifically told me to look for a pretty blonde girl about my age, so that’s what I did. Here's my list.” He showed it to her and she put together the requirements, placing them in a small sack she'd brought for that purpose, since he didn’t seem to have brought a basket like most of the shoppers. “I’m Calvin Welsh. My father is the blacksmith here, but he’s a clock maker too.”
He sounded proud of that, and Patience schooled herself not to react to the familiar name. Ada didn’t like him, she’d made a point of saying a number of times, and her instincts said Ada would know best, but Calvin hadn’t done anything to her so she’d give him the benefit of the doubt. It was certain his father had given Ada a great deal of assistance and Patience liked him enough for that alone.
“I’m Pate,” she replied, handing the bag over. The girls had decided it wouldn’t do any harm to use her own first name, but Patience sounded too formal for most farm girls. When she was born her sisters were too small to say "Patience" so they called her Pate, and the name had lasted through their childhood, before they decided it was too undignified to use a nickname. She was used to answering to it, so it was easier than trying to remember something totally new.
Calvin switched the bag to his left hand and held his right out toward her. She hesitated, but then rested her hand in his own, not sure if he would shake it or kiss it. She rather hoped for the former, but didn’t react when he chose the latter. He clearly had ideas that were grander than usual in such a small town, perhaps he planned to move to the city and was practicing.
She retrieved her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.” She had returned to the more formal manner of speech that she’d been trying not to use in town, but she wasn’t completely comfortable with the way Calvin was staring at her and she preferred he think her chilly than interested.
Calvin nodded and paid what she requested without trying to bargain. “I have to get back to help my father. But I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”
He walked away before she needed to reply, though he did look over her shoulder at her several times. She returned to her lunch but he kept intruding on her thoughts for the rest of the afternoon. There was something about him.
#
Patience didn’t mention Calvin when she returned home that evening, having sold everything and even earned enough extra to pay Mr. Welsh for some of the supplies he brought the next evening. Without the need for him to carry more than the metal bits and bobs, he could secrete them in his pockets and say he was going out for a walk, so he was visiting more frequently, though always after dark. Ada was pleased she didn’t have to rely upon him for everything, anymore, but she still expressed worry to Patience before each trip.
“Remember, don’t come out in the town too close to here, and be more careful coming back. Someone is far more likely to see you then, when you’re tired and want to get home.” The habit of reclusiveness was so ingrained in her that this aberration made her fret about the same things every month.
Patience laughed and tugged at Ada’s plait. “I’m always careful, you worry too much.”
She knew Ada would spend most of the day staring out the window, waiting for her return rather than tinkering in the workshop like she did most non-market days. “Why don’t you work on Frank today?” she suggested. Ada still hadn’t worked out the control system to her satisfaction and kept putting it aside to think about it more while she tried other projects.
Patience was far out of her depth and her suggestions were generally met with “I tried that already.”
By the fourth market day, Patience had established a routine and had begun to enjoy the trips. She loved Ada, but she wasn’t used to only talking to one or two people and was surprised to find herself missing some of the more social aspects of her old life. The market allowed her to interact with lots of different people, without any of the behavioral rules that she’d hated.
Farm girls were not expected to ‘be seen and not heard’ and she was somewhat envious when she’d see a family marketing together, the parents teasing the children or vice-versa. She liked the children and took to keeping a small bag of sweets on her to hand out while their parents made a purchase, or just because they looked like they wanted one. She came to know most of the children, and some of their parents, by name and would call out greetings as they passed by.
It didn’t hurt her business to be friendly either, she noted people specifically aiming for her stall. She was glad that she didn’t have enough to sell to really impact the farm families' incomes. She was sure they needed the money from market day to get through the month, and although she and Ada weren’t exactly well off, she still didn’t want to hurt anyone by taking away from them.
The only thing that marred these expeditions was Calvin’s presence. He stopped by every single market day, usually bought a few things and then stood around talking as long as he could get away with it. Although Patience greeted him cordially, she didn’t linger to chat and was often grateful to whoever interrupted him.
“My father wishes to send me to university,” he mentioned one day. “What do you think of that?”
Patience replied, “If you ask what is the good of education in general, the answer is easy; that education makes good men, and that good men act nobly."
He gaped at her, not recognizing the quote, and she turned away smiling. She wouldn’t say what was truly on her mind, which was that Calvin was about the least-suited student she could imagine. He was vain and pretentious, but didn’t seem to have much interest in thinking about anything but himself. And he certainly wasn’t well read, or he would have recognized Plato.
The one time she had asked him what he liked to read he scrunched u
p his nose. “I’m too busy to waste time on novels. I have important work to do in my father’s forge.”
As far as she could see, from his spotless clothes and thin torso, he wasn’t doing much blacksmithing. Perhaps he was helping with the clocks. But when she mentioned to Mr. Welsh that she had met his son and that he spoke of helping his father, the man shook his head sadly.
“I wish he would. I have orders piling up and barely enough time to see to the clocks in the village as it is, much less to design anything new. My boy likes to talk big, but I’d be careful what you believe, if I were you.”
Patience had figured that out already but Ada frowned and asked her about it later. “Is Calvin bothering you?”
“A little,” Patience admitted. “I think he’s mostly just talk, but he’s spending more time at my stall than I like. I keep trying to gently suggest that he get on with his day, but he doesn’t seem to realize that I wish him to leave.”
Ada snorted. “Calvin wouldn’t take a hint if you wrapped it around a rock and hit him between the eyes. Just tell him to leave you alone.” She regarded Patience’s figure languidly. “Though even that might not help. At least the brat has taste.”
Patience blushed, but was pleased nevertheless and let Ada steer her to more interesting conversation.
She tried the suggestion at the next market day. When Calvin had purchased his vegetables, and brought her a posy of flowers from a different stall, she tried to send him away a little less obliquely. “I am sorry, Calvin, but I need to rearrange my stall. The carrots aren’t selling as well as I’d like.”
She figured he’d either leave or offer to help, but he just stood there while she bent down and sorted out the produce so the carrots were better displayed. As she started to rise he put his hand under her elbow and lifted her up. She did not like the smirk on his face so she stepped away from him and was pleased to see the nice couple who ran the town’s only public house stepping up to her stall. She turned to greet them and pointedly ignored Calvin until he gave up waiting and left.
As she gathered her purchases together to place them in her handcart, Patience looked around carefully to see if anyone was watching as she entered the woods in her usual place. She thought she saw a flash of movement in the woods but waited and she didn’t see it again so she went along as usual, keeping an eye and an ear out for anything out of place. She took a longer way through the woods than usual, too, just to be sure. It was dusk before she left the woods and headed quickly to the front door.
“I knew there was something funny,” a low male voice sounded from behind her.
She whirled around and came face to face with Calvin, who was wearing a very satisfied expression. “What are you talking about?” she asked, her heart speeding up. She debated continuing to push the cart past the house and keep going until he lost her in the darkness but she realized that wasn’t going to help.
“You live here. Don’t you? You live with that… creature.” His face bunched up unattractively as he regarded the curtained-off windows. “What are you? Its keeper or its mistress?” he asked.
Patience stared him down. “You know nothing about him,” she stated, keeping her voice as calm as possible under the circumstances.
He shuddered. “I know that it’s a filthy, evil thing and that anyone human who let it touch her would be sick. But...” he paused for effect, “I’m willing to look past that. I think it’s time I was married, and I think you’d make the perfect wife. Once you’re away from here.”
Patience looked at him in shock. “I’m not going to wed you. I'm...not even old enough,” she lied, trailing off uncertainly.
He leered at her, in the fading sunlight. His eyes lingered on her breasts and she hunched her shoulders forward, wishing it was still cool enough to be wearing a cloak.
“You certainly look old enough, and ripe enough, to me,” he responded, not even bothering to raise his eyes to her face.
She could feel her face flush. “I do not wish to marry at this time.”
This time he looked at her more speculatively. “Your wishes aside, I suggest that you consider my offer. If you should not, it may become known about your ‘living arrangements.’ I know you've made friends in town, imagine what they would think if they knew you were nothing but a doxy to a soulless creature?”
Patience’s mouth dropped open in horror. “You actually think that I…”
Just then, an upstairs window opened and Patience could see the form of the beast neatly outlined. A ferocious roar wiped the leer off Calvin’s face and he backed away. “I’ll give you a month to make your choice. By the next market day you will agree to my proposal or you lose all your friends. And I wonder what the townsmen would think of a human woman living like that. They might even do something … drastic. One month,” he repeated, and then turned and quickly walked back towards the town, following the road.
Patience sagged against her cart as he walked away, and a moment later the front door jerked open. “What happened?” Ada exclaimed. “I couldn’t hear, but he looked like he was threatening you.”
Patience reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you everything.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ada turned white and trembled as Patience told her about the visits Calvin had been paying to her stall, and his attempt to blackmail her into marrying him. She assumed it was fear that made the girl quiver. “Don’t worry,” she attempted to soothe Ada, “I’ll think of something. I won’t let him start spreading filthy rumors and no one will come.” She put her hand on her friend's arm.
Ada blinked at her. “Of course we'll think of something. But he threatened…” she seemed to lose her voice as her mouth worked, attempting to produce words. “How dare he!” she finally cried, at a decibel Patience had never heard from her before.
Patience stared at Ada speculatively. “He thinks I’ll marry him out of desperation,” she said. “But he doesn’t know that I’m not desperate, nor am I at all unhappy with my situation. Let’s put everything away and we can make a plan over supper.” She realized that Ada was furious with Calvin because he wanted to hurt her, and, despite the reason for it, it made her feel special, loved. Ada didn’t seem to be worried about Calvin; she was offended on Patience’s behalf.
#
“We could blow him up.” Patience suggested, a forkful of boiled potato halfway to her mouth. They had been debating options for a while now, and they were starting to get a bit silly about it.
Ada took the suggestion literally. “We’d have to do it outside. I don’t want Mr. Welsh's home damaged because his son is a cretin.”
Patience nodded. “Whatever we do has to be something that won’t hurt his father. It wouldn’t be kind to repay him for his help by destroying his property.”
“His son isn’t property, and I wouldn’t mind destroying him,” Ada growled.
“Possibly something less drastic?” Patience thought about the intruders. “Can we scare him into leaving me alone?”
Ada sobered. “If we could get into his house to lay traps, but I don’t know how we would do that without being seen by someone else in town. Their house is nearly in the middle of it.”
“What if we waited until very late at night?” Patience suggested.
“That would help us remain unseen, but we would still need to get everything inside. And how can we convince Calvin that his house is haunted, or that there’s a lion there that he never noticed before?”
“Frank. We’ll only have to take Frank. If we use him to scare Calvin out of his mind, he won’t be a threat to us. Especially if we make him think that the beast will tear him limb from limb if he so much as mentions it in town.”
Ada frowned. “I still haven’t worked out a control system yet. Not one sophisticated enough to take him on a long walk, nor to speak beyond roaring. I’d need to refine everything and I don’t know if I can do it.”
Patience smiled at her. “I have faith in you.
And I’ll help. Between us we should be able to come up with something. And Mr. Welsh told me today that he would be leaving for London two weeks from tomorrow. I know that doesn’t give us much time, but it will keep him well out of it and in no danger of being hurt.”
The girls neglected every other chore to spend the next two weeks trying out different ideas to improve Frank’s mobility and refine small motor functions. After all these months, Patience had a much better idea of what was required to improve the devices upstairs, and it was she, playing with the lion’s roar recording, who figured out a way to combine a speaking voice with the roaring, so it sounded like the lion was talking. She added a cone-shaped tube that one could speak into so a listener would think that Frank was speaking in response to something that was said.
“One of us will have to be there, maybe hiding a few feet back, but we’d have to be close enough to hear anything Calvin said,” she explained, showing Ada what she’d created with a small version of a gramophone’s cone from which the sound played. “You can whisper into it and the sound comes out much louder.” She demonstrated. It was the first thing she had made that Ada hadn’t helped with.
Ada hugged her. “That’s perfect. I’ve got Frank moving around in small areas, but I’m still not sure how to power him to move as far as the town. Even if we wound him up numerous times, he would still be in danger of running down once we’re in the house.”
Patience examined him. “What if we didn’t make him walk the whole way? What if we pushed him in the cart through the woods until we were almost there? Then we could wind him once to get into the house, and up the stairs, and a second time when we need him to perform.”
