The Girl from the Tanner's Yard

by Diane Allen

  ‘Right, to business! Here’s some money – there should be enough for you to buy whatever we need for the house. You’ll have a better idea than me, and I can be a bit staid in what I eat, so you buy something for a change that you think I’ll enjoy. There will not be a lot of money left, after you’ve done that and bought this list of staples that I wrote down, but what there is, you should keep for yourself. Treat yourself to one of those fancy cream cakes and a cup of tea.’ Adam nodded in the direction of the tea-room, where people were sipping their drink elegantly in the window, while the rest of the world walked by, impoverished. He passed her a list and some money for the things that were needed.

  ‘That’s a bit too posh for me. They’d not look the side I’m on, if I walked in there, but thank you, sir,’ Lucy said and looked up into his face, then put the money and list in her pocket.

  ‘They bloody well should, because you are just as good as any of them, as far as I can tell.’ Adam looked awkward. ‘Well, I’m off to the stables and carter’s first and then I’m walking down Russell Street – it’s where the sheep fair is held. You’ll find me there within an hour’s time. Do you want to meet me there, and then we will collect the goods for home on our return journey in the new donkey-cart?’

  ‘Yes, I can do that. I’ll find you, won’t I? I don’t like to think that I’ll be left in Keighley on my own,’ Lucy shouted, and stood for a second watching Adam as he set off down the cobbled street.

  ‘Yes, I’ll be there. I’ll not go anywhere without you,’ Adam shouted back and then went on his way, leading Rosa to the carter’s, before quickly paying another visit – hopefully his last – to the pharmacist. The pain in his leg was healing, along with the hurt in his heart. Perhaps it was because he was home and content, or perhaps it was because he’d found somebody he was growing quite fond of. Whatever, he would hold his feelings at bay. He didn’t dare love again, and then be hurt when it all went wrong. Besides, Lucy was still young and was his maid; it was a scandal even to think about it, so it was best forgotten.

  Lucy looked around her. She rarely visited Keighley, and she didn’t care for it. The people were different; even though she lived only a few miles away, you could tell they were from the town. People might be poor where she lived, but they had pride and you could tell that by the way they kept themselves clean and tidy. In Keighley a lot of people were dressed in rags and were begging on the streets. There was poverty knocking on most doors and the workhouse was always threatening. Back home was more rural, with folk eking out a living from the land, spinning and carding wool in their rooms when the weather stopped them from working outside, and making ends meet by growing whatever they needed to survive. Keighley town was not a friendly place to a country girl, so she would make her purchases and then find Adam. Even the temptation of some money to spend could not persuade Lucy to stay.

  She looked at the list and at the money that Adam had put in her hand, and decided to walk down Church Street to Chatburn’s, a shop where she knew she could buy most of the items on Adam’s list. And then she would visit the butcher next door and wend her way down the street, turning off at the corner of Russell Street to where the sheep fair was being held. Standing outside Chatburn’s, she looked in the window at the advertisements and goods displayed there, smiling at the advertisement that said, ‘Brides’ cakes and funeral biscuits made here on the shortest notice.’ One minute you could be getting married and the next dead, just like Thomas Farrington, she mused. And then she got back to the job in hand.

  The shop was filled to the rafters with jars containing pickles and jams, spices, sugars and flour, and the air smelled of freshly ground coffee beans from an elaborate, gleaming brass-and-red coffee-grinding machine that stood on the counter top, with a notice on it declaring it the best coffee in Yorkshire. Lucy waited for the woman in front of her to be served, then stepped forward and gave the rotund moustached man in a white apron her list and watched as he read through it. Her eyes were taking in the counter at the other side of the shop, where cakes and biscuits were displayed so beautifully that it would be hard for her to resist their temptation, if she was to wander over to that side of the shop.

  ‘Aye, we have all that’s on your list. Do you want it now, or will you be calling back for it?’ The shopkeeper looked at her and could see Lucy’s fascination with the coffee beans in the glass dome of the coffee-grinder.

  ‘I’ll be calling back for it later in the day. Can you tell me now how much I owe you?’ she asked, and waited while the man totted up the totals.

  ‘That’ll be two shillings and threepence. Are you paying now or when you pick it up?’

  ‘I’ll pay now, but can you add an ounce of your freshly ground coffee to the order as well, as I’ve never drunk it before?’ Lucy enquired.

  ‘It’s not on your list. Will you not get into bother for adding it?’ The man looked at her.

  ‘No, Mr Brooksbank said I could treat myself, so that’s my treat.’ Lucy grinned. She had never drunk coffee, and she could share it with Adam the next day.

  ‘Well, as long as you’ll not be in any bother. That will be another tuppence on top.’ The shopkeeper held out his hand to be paid and shook his head as he passed her the change. These young maids, they’d take the shirt off your back, if they thought they could get away with it. No wonder his well-to-do customers were always moaning about their thieving servants, he thought as he watched Lucy go out of the shop, without a care in the world.

  The butcher’s next door had a newly slaughtered pig hanging by its splayed back legs beside the shop’s entrance, its ribs open to the world and blood running down its snout into the gore-filled gutter below. It was a smell of death and blood that Lucy was used to at the flay-pits, where they were constantly moving animal hides. She walked past it and entered the butcher’s shop and looked around her for the coming week’s meat supply. With not much money left, she’d have to be careful, so she opted for some pig’s liver, calves’ feet, tripe, sausage and a good portion of shin of beef with some kidney. She’d make Adam a nice steak-and-kidney pie, which she thought would feed him two days and would be a real treat. She paid the butcher and made the same arrangement to pick the meat up later in the day.

  With her shopping now done, Lucy wandered down the line of shops, stopping to admire the shoes in W. Town’s shoe shop, which were advertised as the latest style in American overshoes; and looking at the window in the next shop, J. Naylor and Son, which advertised, ‘Teeth extracted in between selling cigars and snuff’ – along with various other new inventions and needs that the good people of Keighley required, on her way to meet up with Adam. Her mood was light and she hummed a tune while she walked amongst the townsfolk, with her shawl around her shoulders and her head filled with the return journey home with Adam, in his new donkey-cart. She was foolish, she knew, even to think about her master in that way, but her heart was beginning to rule her head and even the slightest glance or touch from Adam made her heart beat wildly. An afternoon in Keighley would be heaven – as long as she could be near him and watch him, without Adam knowing how she was beginning to feel about him – she thought, as she turned the corner into Russell Street.

  Both ends of Russell Street were fenced off from the general public, and the street was full of sheep, lambs and goats, despite people living on either side of the busy, noisy affair. Drovers and farmers leaned over their flocks and talked to one another while deals were done, as animals were sold and bid over. The country had come to the middle of the town, and deals were being shaken on and honoured by most sellers.

  Adam Brooksbank strode between the backs of greasy-woolled sheep. Those that had already lambed had their young offspring around their feet, and they bleated in alarm at being in strange surroundings with men walking amongst them, frightened that they would lose their babies. Every so often he would stop at a sheep and examine its teeth and feel down its back, to see how stout it was under the thick wool coat, holding a sheep beneath him
as he looked at its markings and guessed its age. There was a flock of twenty, all still to have their lambs, that had caught his eye and he made his way over to the young lad who was selling them.

  ‘You’ve some fine sheep here. But why are you selling? Your profits are yet to be made for the year, as they are all, by the look of it, near to lambing.’ Adam leaned back and looked at the young lad, who was humbly dressed and seemed as if he could do with a good meal in him.

  ‘We can’t afford the rent on our lump of land. The landlord increased our rent and we’ve to be out of our home upon High Moor by the end of the month, if I don’t sell these today. I have to sell them, along with another twenty back home. We need the money now and can’t wait until autumn, when I should be selling them, to see what lambs they are carrying. But that doesn’t mean I’m a pushover. I expect a decent price for them, so don’t insult me with a low offer. I’d rather walk my lasses home than see them go for next to nothing.’ The lad looked up from under his flat cap and stared at Adam.

  ‘Well, I certainly wasn’t going to think of underpaying for them. In fact they are fine, fit sheep, the best in the fair today. Let me make you an offer and see where we go from there?’ Adam stood back and eyed the sheep over again. ‘Five guineas for the lot? That includes the twenty that you still have back home, if they are as fit as these.’ He waited and watched as the young lad thought about his offer.

  ‘I’m loath to sell them, as these have been my pride and joy, but I’ve no option. My mother, sister and I need the money, but it means I’ll have nothing to farm.’

  ‘It’s a good offer. Would it help if I were also to offer you first refusal on some of their lambs in October, when they are old enough to leave their mothers? You’d be receiving them back without the work, and would still have some money now. Times are hard, folk have no brass and us hill-farmers barely make anything at the best of times. That’s the best I can do, but your sheep would have a good home and your flock would stay together.’ Adam could see that the young lad loved his flock, but needs must, if he was to keep a roof over his family’s heads.

  ‘Where do you live? I want to know where they are going, before I agree,’ the lad said.

  ‘On the moor top above Denholme, at Black Moss Farm. I’d be asking for you to walk them up there, or do you have a horse and cart? What’s your name, lad?’ Adam asked.

  ‘Reggie Ellwood’s the name. I’ll drive them up to you, slow and steady, seeing they are all in lamb. It might take us two days, but you’ll get your sheep. I know where you are. I know all the farms in that area. My grandmother used to live at Low Withens, and we used to stay with her when we were young. Your price is fair; you can have them all, and I would appreciate the first pick of any lambs this back-end. I’m from just above Ing Row, on the way back towards your home, so I’ll bring all forty together. It breaks my heart to sell them.’

  Adam counted out his money from his breast pocket and handed it to the downhearted farm lad. ‘There’s an extra two shillings in there: one for luck, and one in payment for you driving them. Who’s your landlord? He must be a heartless devil to make you stoop this low,’ Adam enquired, as Reggie nodded his head in thanks and quickly took Adam’s money.

  ‘It’s Robert Baxter. He’s wanting our land for one of his sons, and putting up the rent is the only way he can get us off it. That family will resort to anything, to get what they want.’ Reggie shook his head and looked around him in despair.

  ‘His land neighbours mine, and it isn’t the first time I’ve heard bad things about him. I haven’t had many dealings with Baxter up to now, but forewarned is forearmed and he’ll not get far with me,’ Adam growled.

  ‘Well, I hope not. Keep an eye on my sheep, as he’s been known to claim stock that isn’t his, but no one dare stand up to Baxter.’ Reggie looked at his sheep and hoped that none of them would come to harm.

  ‘They will be in good hands. Now I see that my maid is looking for me, and it is time for us to be returning home. I’ll see you in a day or so with the flock. I’ll take you home, once you’ve delivered them. Take your time; they don’t want to be rushed, as they are all carrying lambs, and some look nearly due.’ Adam shook the young lad’s hand and gave his new purchases another glance, then walked his way through the bleating sheep to where Lucy stood waiting for him.

  ‘The more I hear about the Baxters, the more I think that I’ve got bad neighbours, although so far they’ve not done anything to me.’ Adam stood next to Lucy and looked back at the sheep he’d bought.

  ‘I know that the Baxters are a bad lot. Nobody has the time of day for them. And have you bought some sheep?’ Lucy enquired.

  ‘Aye, I’ve bought forty ewes, all in lamb. The lad I’ve bought them from is only selling them because the Baxters have put up his rent and he can’t afford to keep them and pay the rent,’ Adam growled. ‘It was never like this when my father farmed. Everyone helped everybody else.’

  ‘It hasn’t altered – everyone does usually help out. It’s just that family. I’d be thankful they have left you alone up to now. The youngest lad is a right bad lot. Archie doesn’t have a good word for him.’ Lucy looked at the worry on Adam’s face.

  ‘I think my problems will come when I put my stock up on the moor. There’s been none until now, but soon my flock of forty – and what lambs they produce – will tempt the Baxters, and then the fun will begin. But I’ll be ready for them; they’ll not get one over on me so quickly.’ Adam sighed. ‘Now, have you spent up? And what did you treat yourself to?’

  ‘Coffee – I bought enough coffee for two drinks. I’ve never drunk it before, and I was curious about the taste of the roasted beans; they smelled so good while I waited to be served in the grocer’s.’ Lucy smiled.

  ‘Of all the things you could have bought! You’ll either like it or hate it. I want to see your face when you try it,’ Adam laughed.

  ‘I’ll pretend to like it, even if I don’t.’ Lucy grinned. ‘And I’ve got you some change.’ She handed Adam the change from her pocket and looked at his face.

  ‘You are a fair lass – you’ll always keep me on my toes.’ Adam looked at her. ‘Now, let’s be away home; in style this time. Madam, your donkey-cart awaits.’ Adam pretended to bow, before making his way through the crowds of farmers and drovers, with Lucy following behind him. She would enjoy every minute of the journey back home, and couldn’t wait to tell her mother that she had been shopping in Keighley with Adam Brooksbank.

  16

  Lucy could still hear her mother’s words ringing in her ears, as she looked out the kitchen window at Black Moss. ‘Don’t you be getting too close to that Adam Brooksbank. Remember your position and don’t let him ever touch you, because that’s what he’ll expect, if you encourage him.’ She wished in the end that she had never mentioned how much she had enjoyed her time with him on her visit to Keighley, or had partly confessed that she admired him. ‘These men take advantage of their maids. You’ll mean nothing to him and then, before you know it, you’ll be coming home with a baby in your arms and he’ll deny everything,’ Dorothy had gone on to lecture.

  But she was wrong about Adam Brooksbank. He’d never shown her any sexual urges and it was the briefest of flirtations when he spoke to her. Lucy, on the other hand, would have welcomed more attention, and only wished that she could stop looking at Adam and feeling as if her heart was going to burst, if she didn’t tell him the way she felt about him.

  She watched Adam now as he waved to the lad who was herding his newly bought flock into the farmyard, and smiled, knowing how excited he was at putting his own flock of Rough Fell sheep onto the moorland. He’d been looking forward to receiving them, and she knew that with the arrival of the sheep his work as a farmer really started, because all the sheep were in lamb and would demand his attention over the coming weeks. Lucy wiped her hands quickly on her apron and walked out of the farmhouse, after seeing a lamb under the arm of the lad who was delivering the flock.

&
nbsp; ‘Our first lamb at Black Moss. He’s a bit of a surprise.’ Adam picked up the small, tightly curled woolly creature from Reggie, while its mother bleated her worry that her baby was being harmed.

  ‘He’s lovely.’ Lucy petted the bleating lamb’s head and smiled at it as it struggled, trying to escape Adam’s arms.

  ‘He wriggles, does the little devil. The sooner he gets to where he’s going, the better. And he’s peed down my jacket.’ Adam held the lamb tightly and groaned.

  ‘He’s christened you as his new owner.’ Reggie laughed as he turned round and, with his walking stick, switched the flock up through the farmyard via the pasture gate, with his sheepdog nipping at the stray sheep when told to do so, by Reggie’s instructions.

  ‘Well, he can keep it to himself. I’m not impressed. Although we will keep this one and his mother in the back paddock, as he’s a bit on the small side. Just until he builds up his strength, then he can join the rest of the flock on the high ground. So he’s won my attention already.’ Adam laughed and followed Reggie through the farmyard gate, holding the lamb up by its front legs for its mother to smell, and following it into the paddock, instead of going with the rest of the flock up the steep hillside and onto the moor.

  Lucy followed Adam and leaned over the paddock gate, from where they watched mother and son nudge and comfort one another in their new home, oblivious to the rest of the flock being driven up the moorland.

  ‘Now, that’s a mother’s love. Just look at her and listen to her – she loves that bonny little thing, no matter how much he’s bleating.’ Lucy smiled as the lamb searched for a drink from his mother, and she nudged him and directed him to her udder.

  ‘Aye, she’ll make a good mother. I don’t think I need to worry about her. But I’ll have my work cut out lambing, and watching the rest until they have all delivered and have survived the weather and whatever it throws at us. I’ll be looking at them first thing in the morning and last thing of an evening, to make sure that all are well. I’ve never seen a fox on my land, but they are all too fond of a newly born lamb. And with that, I mean the four-legged kind, not the two-legged kind in the name of Baxter.’ Adam walked away from Lucy and followed his flock and Reggie up onto the higher ground.