The Country Bride

by Dilly Court

  Hilda sat back in her chair, eyeing her expectantly. ‘Now then, love. Tell me everything. I’ve been out of my mind with worry. I didn’t know where you had gone. Not that it was your fault – you didn’t have much choice.’

  ‘Where is he now?’ Judy asked anxiously. ‘Is he still around?’

  Hilda and Mrs Bee exchanged meaningful glances. ‘Well,’ Hilda said slowly, ‘I dare say he’s still there, although I don’t know what he’ll do when the rent collector turns up. I’ve been paying the rent ever since we moved in, and I doubt if Wilfred has any money on him.’

  Mrs Bee had been sitting quietly on the opposite side of the table, but she nodded vigorously. ‘He’s been living off you, Hilda. What sort of man does that?’

  ‘You’re not to go back there, Ma,’ Judy said firmly. ‘You deserve better.’

  ‘I’m his wife, as he keeps pointing out. I don’t have much choice, dear.’

  ‘Yes, you do,’ Judy cried passionately. ‘I think I’ve found the ideal place for us. Well, perhaps it’s not ideal, and it needs a bit of work, but nothing we can’t do and it would put a roof over our heads.’

  ‘You know you can stay here, Hilda,’ Mrs Bee said hastily. ‘I’m sure that Dove would be happy to have you here, and the doctor is too busy to notice. Besides which, you’re a good worker and they wouldn’t want to lose you. That goes for you, too, Judy.’

  ‘And I’m very grateful to both of them, Mrs Bee.’ Hilda reached across the table to pat Mrs Bee’s hand. She turned back to her daughter. ‘But what’s your idea, love?’

  Judy glanced warily at Mrs Bee. ‘Promise you won’t tell anyone.’

  ‘You can trust me, my dear. I could set the stones alight if I was to tell all the secrets I’ve been privy to over the years.’

  ‘Go on, Judy,’ Hilda urged. ‘Please tell me. I’d give a lot to turn the clock back to when I was a simple widow, but if you can think of a way to get me free from Wilfred I’ll do almost anything.’

  ‘How do you fancy being a pub landlady, Ma?’ Judy said, smiling.

  Hilda gasped and stared at her wide-eyed. ‘You’re joking, aren’t you?’

  ‘No, Ma. I’m deadly serious, but it’s not going to be easy and we’ll have to find the money somewhere to stock the bar and to pay for essentials.’

  Mrs Bee was suddenly alert. ‘Where is this public house?’

  ‘It’s an inn. The Crooked Billet on the headland.’

  ‘No!’ Mrs Bee clapped her hands to her mouth. ‘That place has been empty for more than ten years. It has a terrible reputation, Judy. You wouldn’t be able to make a living there.’

  ‘It closed soon after we came here,’ Hilda said slowly. ‘I seem to remember there was a lot of talk about it being used for smuggling, but then so was Creek Manor when the old squire was alive.’

  ‘I’m not suggesting that we encourage free-trading,’ Judy said, laughing. ‘I think we could run an inn together, and the boys could manage the stables and help in the bar. We would have a home again, Ma, and it would be ours.’

  ‘There’s just one problem.’ Mrs Bee looked from one to the other. ‘The building might be empty but it belongs to someone. Have you thought of that, Judy?’

  Chapter Ten

  No matter what anyone said, Judy was not going to be put off, and she had a surprising ally in Dove, who took her side when Nick was adamant that taking over the Crooked Billet was a terrible mistake. It was Dove who insisted that they take Hilda to view the premises later that afternoon.

  ‘After all,’ she said, fixing her husband with a steely look, ‘it was my brother who let Judy down. They were all but engaged before Jack took off for Australia with Jay and our mother. My brothers have a lot to answer for, especially Jay.’

  Nick shook his head. ‘You can’t hold yourself responsible for the sins of your brothers, my love. But the Crooked Billet has a terrible reputation, and even if we could find out who owns the land on which it’s built, I doubt if anyone could make an honest living out there.’

  ‘I think you’re wrong,’ Judy said firmly. ‘All we want is a home and enough money to live on. I don’t expect to make a fortune, but we would run an honest business.’

  ‘Of course you would.’ Dove slipped her arm around Judy’s shoulders. ‘They deserve a chance, Nick.’

  ‘I can’t stop you.’ He sat down at his desk and opened a ledger. ‘Take the carriage and Billy will drive you out there, but make sure you get home before dark.’

  Dove smiled and blew him a kiss. ‘Thank you, Nick. I promise to give them the best advice I can. If I think it’s impossible, I’ll say so.’

  ‘Shall we go now?’ Judy said anxiously. ‘We don’t want to be there after dark, unless you have a lantern or two we could take.’

  ‘We’ll leave as soon as Billy brings the carriage round.’ Dove opened the door, turning to her husband with a gentle smile. ‘We’ll be back in time for supper, darling.’

  Judy was anxious as Billy drew the carriage to a halt outside the Crooked Billet. A cold east wind set the inn sign swinging wildly on its one remaining hook. Dark clouds obscured the horizon and Judy felt the first drops of rain as she unlocked the front door. She held it open for her mother and Dove to enter the building, leaving Billy to see to the horses.

  Hilda and Dove exchanged horrified glances as they looked round the desolate taproom.

  ‘Just imagine that the place is clean and smells fragrant, and there’s a fire burning in the inglenook,’ Judy said eagerly. She lit the lantern that they had brought with them, and held it above her head, throwing a beam of light on the bare shelves behind the bar. A rat chose that particular moment to race from one end of the counter to the other.

  ‘You’ll need the services of the rat catcher before you do anything else,’ Dove said, shuddering.

  ‘Or else get a couple of big tomcats to do the job for nothing,’ Hilda suggested, wrinkling her nose. ‘It stinks in here, Judy.’

  ‘There’s a small snug bar and a private parlour behind that,’ Judy said in desperation. ‘And a nice large kitchen with a big range.’

  ‘I can imagine the state that must be in if this part of the pub is anything to go by.’ Hilda braced her shoulders. ‘Bring the lantern, Judy. Let’s see the worst that the Crooked Billet has to offer.’

  They explored the building, treading carefully to avoid the carapaces of dead cockroaches. Hilda was impressed with the size of the kitchen, but she shook her head when she examined the long-neglected range. Dove thought the parlour at the rear of the building could be made comfortable with suitable furniture and some carpet, and, to Judy’s surprise, it was Dove who was the most enthusiastic about reopening the inn to the public. They discussed the possibilities on their way home, but Hilda was reluctant to take a risk in a pub with such a dreadful reputation.

  It was not easy, but eventually, after a lot of persuasion, Judy succeeded in winning her mother over. They spent the next two days armed with mops, brooms and scrubbing brushes, and the first thing Judy did was to clean the kitchen range. It took the best part of a morning to clear the ashes and attack the grease and rust, and when she had stripped it down to the cast iron, she applied a generous coating of black lead.

  Nick’s gift to start them off in their new home was a supply of fuel delivered by the coalman, who was upset when he discovered that there was no beer to make up for the distance from the coal yard at the station to the pub on the headland. Judy promised him that when he delivered their next supply he would have a pint of their best ale, but he muttered something about there not being a next time and stamped out of the taproom, slamming the door behind him.

  However, once the fire was going in the range and a kettle singing on the hob, the kitchen became a much friendlier place. Hilda had swept the dust, dirt and dead leaves from the taproom, and after a cup of strong tea, sweetened with a lump of sugar, she set about mopping the floor with the luxury of hot water and lye soap. Dove had also come to help and she ha
d brought Linnet with her. They rolled up their sleeves and set to work, swapping jokes about the ‘old days’ when they were poor and lived in the cottage that Hilda had just vacated. There was another surprise when Daisy drove up in the chaise accompanied by Pip and Molly although Nate could not be spared by Mr Puckett, and soon they were all occupied with one task or another. Windows were cleaned, bedrooms were swept, scrubbed and the windows thrown open as soon as the rain-bearing clouds passed over. Daisy set to with a will, but Molly’s contribution was to flit from room to room, wielding a feather duster.

  Daisy had had the forethought to bring a hamper filled with food, and at midday they gathered round the huge kitchen table to enjoy a feast of mutton pies, cold chicken, cakes, fruit and copious amounts of tea.

  ‘This reminds me of old times at Creek Manor,’ Daisy said, smiling. ‘We only need Mrs Ralston and Cook to complete the set.’

  ‘Don’t forget Molesworth and James,’ Judy added. ‘It’s such a shame that the old house burned to the ground.’

  ‘Well, there’s some good news,’ Dove said importantly. ‘Our dear friend, fondly known as Dr God, had proved his omnipotence by securing part of the finance necessary to buy the land and rebuild Creek Manor, but this time it will be a hospital big enough to serve the whole county.’

  Pip looked up from the slice of fruit cake he was about to devour. ‘Will there be a chance of employment for local people, Mrs Neville?’

  ‘Are you thinking of leaving our employ, Pip?’ Daisy asked anxiously. ‘I thought you were happy with us.’

  ‘I am, Mrs Walters. But I don’t want to be a stable boy all my life. I would like to help people with injuries like Ma. We all saw how she suffered and still suffers.’

  ‘Just think of all those handsome young doctors,’ Molly said, smiling dreamily. ‘I might end up like you, Mrs Neville.’

  ‘Trust you to think of yourself.’ Pip glowered at his sister.

  ‘Do you want to spend your days making wooden legs, Pip?’ Molly stifled a giggle.

  Hilda frowned at them and shook her head. ‘Don’t laugh at him, Molly. I think it’s a very good thing to do. I know how grateful I was to the kind fellow who made my first wooden leg. I would be a cripple in a wheelchair if he hadn’t set out to help me.’

  Judy laid her hand on Hilda’s shoulder. ‘Of course, you’re right. I’m sure Molly didn’t mean to make fun of you, Pip. I think wanting to help others is a very laudable ambition.’

  Molly tossed her head. ‘Everyone is so serious these days. Perhaps things will become livelier when you open for business. I think I quite fancy working behind the bar.’

  ‘It’s not the place for a young lady,’ Hilda said firmly. ‘You’re better off where you are.’

  ‘More cake, anyone?’ Judy handed the plate round, and there was a brief silence while everyone finished their food.

  When the last morsel had been eaten, Judy rose to her feet. ‘I want to thank you all for your hard work. All we need now are some mattresses and bedding, and of course some beer and spirits to stock the bar. At this rate we could open for business in a few days.’

  ‘You’ll need some form of transport,’ Daisy said thoughtfully. ‘There’s the old farm cart in the coach house, and Major is almost ready to put out to grass, but he’s got a few more miles in him. He’s a good steady horse and you’re welcome to have him, if that would help.’

  ‘It would indeed.’ Judy gave her a grateful smile.

  Daisy rose to her feet. ‘I think this is a very exciting venture, Judy. I hope it will prove to be a great success.’

  The inn sign was cleaned and oiled, and Pip fixed it securely so that it swung gently and silently in the breeze. Daisy had supplied several old mattresses, taken from the storeroom, and some bedding that was considered too old for use at Colneyhurst, even for the servants’ quarters. Hilda set to and neatly darned the blankets, all of which were washed and hung out to dry in the fresh air. The most worn of all were consigned to the family rooms, which left the largest bedchamber for any traveller who might want a bed for the night. Similarly, the only refreshment they could offer, apart from tea and coffee, was a barrel of beer that Pip and Nate had manhandled onto a trestle behind the bar, before they returned to their duties at Colneyhurst. The menu was equally limited and unless their future customers wanted anything other than rabbit stew and freshly baked bread, they would have to go elsewhere, but as the only other hostelry was the one in the village, more than two miles away, Judy was hopeful that they might attract passing trade.

  On the first day they opened for business there was a steady flow of customers, especially in the evening, but Judy was quick to realise that it was curiosity that had brought the fishermen and farm workers to the door of the Crooked Billet. No one wanted the rabbit stew, one burly workman saying that he could get better at home for next to nothing. Judy dropped the price that evening until they were almost giving the food away, but it was cash in hand, and the money they took on the cask of ale would just about cover the cost of buying a replacement next day. When the ale ran out there was a grumbling exodus of dissatisfied customers, leaving Judy and Hilda to collapse on the settle by the fire with what was left of the stew for their own supper.

  ‘Have we made a terrible mistake, as Nick said?’ Hilda paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. ‘I doubt if we’ve made any profit today.’

  Judy broke off a piece of bread and dipped it in her bowl. ‘It’s only the first day. We have to build up a reputation, and we need to get more stock.’

  ‘What with?’ Hilda demanded crossly. ‘I haven’t got another penny. What about you?’

  ‘No, but there’s the cash we’ve taken. That will buy a keg of ale, and at least we have somewhere to sleep, and food to eat.’

  Hilda did not look impressed and they finished their meal in silence. Outside the wind had got up and it was howling mercilessly around the building, like souls in torment.

  ‘You go to bed, Ma,’ Judy said as she piled the plates on a tray. ‘I’ll lock up.’

  ‘I’d feel safer if the boys would move in with us, although I don’t suppose they will.’ Hilda rose slowly to her feet. ‘But I think I could sleep on a washing line tonight – I’m so tired.’

  Judy kissed her on the cheek. ‘We’ll do better tomorrow. I’m sure of it.’

  Hilda limped off in the direction of the staircase and Judy went to lock and bolt the front door. If any weary traveller wanted a bed for the night they would have to go somewhere else. She was too exhausted to care one way or the other.

  Next morning, after a surprisingly good night’s sleep, considering the storm that raged around the headland and the strange creaking sounds from the contracting timbers of the old building, Judy rose from her bed refreshed and ready for whatever the day might bring. Failure, as far as she was concerned, was not an option. She was going to succeed in bringing the inn back to life, there was no question about it, although when she sat down at the breakfast table and counted out yesterday’s takings it was not very encouraging. There was enough for another keg of ale and a few supplies, but no profit from their hard work. She nibbled a stale roll and washed it down with tea, although there was no milk. It was warm in the kitchen and the milk that was left in the jug had soured overnight. She was about to throw it down the stone sink when Hilda entered the kitchen.

  ‘What are you doing, Judy?’

  ‘The milk has gone off. I’m throwing it away.’

  ‘Don’t do that.’ Hilda crossed the floor with surprising speed. ‘It will make cream cheese. All you have to do is to mix it with some salt and place it in a piece of butter muslin, hang it over a bowl for the whey to drip out and tomorrow or the next day it will be delicious. We can’t afford to waste a thing.’

  Judy stared at her in amazement. ‘I suppose I was used to working in the kitchens at Creek Manor where food was plentiful. I don’t remember doing this to sour milk.’

  ‘Well then, this is the start of bein
g very careful with what we have. I was used to doing so when we lived in Green Dragon Yard, and even in the cottage on the estate I had to watch the pennies.’

  ‘Yes, of course you did, Ma.’ Judy eyed her mother thoughtfully. ‘I wonder if you’d like to take the cart to Maldon. It would be a day out for you, and you’d probably get far more for the little money we have than I would.’

  Hilda’s eyes lit up with a delighted smile. ‘I’m not sure I could handle the reins for that long, but I could call at Colneyhurst and maybe Nate or Pip would drive me. It would be a trip out for both of us.’

  It took both Judy and her mother to harness Major and get him between the shafts, but somehow they managed it and the old horse munched stoically on his nosebag, rolling his soft brown eyes occasionally when either of them made a mistake.

  Judy watched her mother drive off, hoping that Major knew more about pulling a cart than Hilda did about driving one, but they seemed to be getting on reasonably well and they only had to get as far as Colneyhurst Hall. Judy hoped that either Pip or Nate would be allowed to drive the cart to Maldon. Old Puckett was not such a mean old man as the boys had made out.

  Judy set about cleaning the taproom ready for business that day, and having swept and dusted, she opened the front door and shook out the duster. It was a fine October morning and the sun was shining from an azure sky. The water trapped by the marsh grasses at low tide sparkled in the bright light, and the sea beyond the headland was a deep ultramarine, dotted with the tan-coloured sails of the working barges. It was a picture of peace and calm, and Judy felt almost ridiculously optimistic. They might not have made a profit on their first day of trading, but they had not made a loss. She was about to go back indoors when she heard the sound of a horse’s hoofs and she waited, hoping that it might be passing trade. Perhaps word had got round that they were open for business. She shielded her eyes against the bright light and to her surprise she saw Dr Godfrey himself holding the reins. He drew the horse to a halt and dismounted.