by Val Wood
‘Whatever does tha mean, Annie?’ Lily blushed.
Annie reached into the pack which she had brought upstairs and opening it brought out the bow of ribbon. ‘He sent this for thee. Ordered it ’specially he did and chose ’colour himself, ’said how much it would suit thee.’
Lily took the ribbon and smoothed it with her hands. ‘I’ve never had a present from a man before.’ She looked up at Annie, a slight frown puckering her eyebrows. ‘But there’s something else? What is the message?’
‘His unit has been ordered to move on. He rode over from ’garrison at Hull just as soon as he heard. I had to promise to tell thee as soon as I could.’
‘But where has he gone? Isn’t he coming back?’ Lily spoke in barely a whisper.
‘Oh, right up north. He’s that upset, Lily. I’ve never seen a man so miserable. But he has to go. He’d get ’lash if he didn’t. He’d even thought of absconding on account of thee, but I told him that tha wasn’t that sort of a woman who’d want a man to destroy himself for her. Why, if they found him he might even be shot!’
Lily put her hands to her face. ‘Oh no, I wouldn’t want that. But is that what he was willing to do, Annie? To risk his life for me?’
‘Aye. He took some persuading to go back I can tell thee. I told him that tha would take some comfort in knowing that he cared for thee.’
‘Oh, I do, Annie, I do.’ Lily started to sob and Annie put her arms around her.
‘Then tha’s luckier than most women. When he gave me this ribbon for thee, he said, tell her I’ll allus remember her and when she wears this, maybe she’ll think on me.’
Well, that’s what he would have said, she thought, as she lay in bed and listened to the soft snuffling noises coming from Lily’s bed across the room. He would have said it if he could have found ’right words. I just wish somebody would say it to me. She turned over and gazed up at the small square window. The sky was clear and bright with stars and she thought of a ship sailing beneath them and a buccaneer with blue eyes and a fair beard.
She moved off after breakfast. Mr Sutcliff had been in a very jovial mood and bought his daughters lengths of wool cloth to make into new skirts. Lily said she didn’t want any more but he insisted. She was quiet, but, Annie thought, she didn’t look desperately unhappy. The knowledge that she was cared for seemed to be sustaining her.
‘’Weather’s going to change.’ Mr Sutcliff saw her off at the gate. ‘Don’t spend too long up here, it’ll snow maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow. If it comes down heavy, ’roads will be covered and tha’ll lose tha way. One valley looks like any other when it’s covered wi’ snow.’
She said she would take heed but nevertheless turned up the dale towards the next village. She still had plenty of linens and muslins to sell and thought she would call at some of the big houses rather than the farms.
As she drove down the winding drive towards a stone built mansion she remembered what Robin had told her. ‘Allus go to ’back door,’ he’d said. ‘Tha’ll get a boot up tha backside if tha goes to ’front and tha won’t sell owt.’ So she turned Ned towards the back door and got out and knocked.
The housekeeper was pleased to see her and bought fustian for sheets for the maids, and cottons and pins for sewing. Then she asked her if she had anything else.
‘Muslins and fine cotton,’ Annie said. ‘Fit for a lady they are. Lovely quality and cheap at ’price.’
‘Have some curd pie and a drop o’ barley wine while I nip and see ’mistress. She’s not averse to a bargain and she has some young ladies staying with her who might buy.’
She came back in ten minutes and said Annie had to go with her. ‘Mrs Burnby will see thee. Better wash thy hands and straighten thy hair,’ she added. ‘She’s very particular.’
Annie did as she said. She readjusted the silk scarf which Toby had given her, and leaving her cloak in the kitchen she followed the woman upstairs.
She was quite unprepared for the splendour of the room which she was ushered into. The floor had patterned rugs upon its polished surface, and elegant gilt furniture, too dainty and fragile, she thought, for sitting on, was placed around the outside of the room. A large gilt mirror was over the marble fireplace, and a pair of tapestry face screens placed at either side of a warm fire. In the centre of the room were several sofas and chairs and relaxing gracefully in them were three ladies, two young and one older, who looked towards her as she entered.
‘This is ’woman I was telling you of, ma’am. She has some good cloth that you might like to see.’
Annie was glad that she was wearing her new skirt and the shirt of Toby’s that she was wearing, she knew was a good one. She bobbed her knee. ‘It’s good of thee to see me, ma’am.’ She’d heard the housekeeper call her mistress, ma’am, and so followed suit. ‘I have some pretty muslins that might interest thee or ’young ladies.’
One of the young women, fair haired with rosy lips, glanced at her companion and put her hand to her mouth to hide a sniggering smile, and Annie felt an irritation. Never done a day’s work in her life, I bet. Sitting around all day gossiping or doing a bit of sewing and looking down on them as has to work for a living.
‘Let me see what you have,’ said Mrs Burnby. ‘I’m not saying I will buy, but I’ll look.’
Annie opened up one of her packs which contained fine linen and some pretty ribbons.
The young woman who had laughed, picked up some of the ribbons. ‘These are quite pretty, don’t you think, Jane?’ she said airily. ‘I’ll have one of each.’ She glanced at Annie’s neckerchief. ‘That’s very pretty too. I’ll have one of those, but in yellow.’
‘I’m sorry to have to disappoint thee, miss. But this is very special. It’s ’only one there is.’
‘And so you keep it for yourself! How very odd!’
‘No, miss. It was a present from a friend. I didn’t buy it.’
‘Perhaps the woman will sell it to you then, Clara,’ remarked Jane. ‘The blue would suit you.’
‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t possibly sell it,’ Annie said quickly. ‘It was given to me in friendship. It’s not for sale, I have other silks and muslins that I can show thee.’
Clara sat back in a sulk and Mrs Burnby turned to Annie. ‘You’re quite right, of course. You couldn’t possibly sell a gift; it would be quite unthinkable. It’s good to know that standards are not slipping quite as much as one feared.’
Annie opened up her other bag, she’d deliberately left this until last. She draped a sprigged muslin across a chair and then diffidently said; ‘If tha doesn’t mind ma’am,’ and arranged a fold of grey satin across Mrs Burnby’s shoulder and knee.
‘Why, it’s lovely, Aunt.’ Jane leaned forward and handled the shiny material. ‘It would be just the thing for the Pattison’s party if you could get it made in time.’
She came and stood at Annie’s side. ‘Do take everything out, I’m sure there’ll be something for me too.’
Annie smiled to herself as she trundled back down the drive. She’d sold two lengths of satin to Mrs Burnby, the grey and a dark red. A blue wool and a short length of cream lace for Jane, and even the imperious Clara had condescended to buy a spotted muslin.
I can’t get back tonight, she thought. It’s too far. I’ll make for ’next hamlet and see if I can beg a bed for ’night and then get off back tomorrow. She shivered and pulled her cloak around her. The sky had darkened while she had been inside and a cold wind had risen. Maybe these folk know what they’re talking about after all. She sniffed the air. It was sharp to her nostrils. Maybe it will snow after all.
As she drove into the next hamlet the donkey appeared to be tired and walked slowly, his head down. She got out of the cart and walked alongside. ‘Come on old lad, we’re nearly there.’
There was only a scattering of houses, some were empty and the others were in a poor state of repair. One had a pig in a pen in the garden and as the old man opened his door two hens flew out. But no-one in the hamle
t wanted to buy or give her a bed for the night, and they were anxious to close their doors on the gathering wind which was rushing down the valley.
‘I’ll go to ’big house,’ she muttered. ‘I’m sure to get a bed there.’
The long drive up to the house was dark and overhung with trees, and beneath her feet grass and weeds were growing. The shrubberies were overgrown and neglected and there was a general air of gloom.
Maybe the house is empty, she thought. There’s no light showing. The heavy double front doors between columns which were shining white in the dusk, were firmly shut and the long windows on either side of the stone façade were shuttered. She cast her eyes to the upstairs rooms. Those windows too were shuttered, save one, where a dim light flickered.
She felt nervous. There was a sense of decay about the place, as if no-one cared if the house, which once must have been very grand, fell to pieces about them. She grasped the donkey’s rein, urging him on and led him around the back of the house.
There was a light in the kitchen and through the window she saw a young girl about to serve a man and woman with ale. She knocked and saw them look up. The woman came to the door and opened it.
‘I know it’s late,’ she began. ‘But I didn’t want to pass thy door without offering to show thee my goods. I won’t be by this way again ’till Spring.’
The woman invited her in. ‘I can’t promise to buy, but I’ll have a look.’
‘I’ve a few nice muslins left if thy mistress would be interested.’
‘There’s no mistress here,’ she answered, tight-lipped. ‘More’s the pity.’
‘No daughter of ’house, or son’s wife?’
She laughed grimly. ‘None. Nor likely to be.’
Annie waited to hear more but the woman didn’t continue, but pointed Annie to a stool to sit down, which she did and opened up her two remaining packs.
‘Does tha ever carry owt else?’ The woman whispered as she ran her fingers through a length of wool. She looked towards the other couple seated at the table and lowered her voice even further. ‘Tea or owt?’
Annie hesitated. How did she know if she could trust this woman? She decided she wouldn’t take the risk and shook her head. ‘No,’ she whispered back. ‘I onny carry legal goods. But if ever I hear of anybody who does, I’ll send them to thee.’
A flash of alarm crossed the woman’s face. ‘Nay, don’t. I onny wondered. I wouldn’t want mayster to know.’
She bought only scissors and cotton and as Annie repacked her bag she asked her if she could have a bed for the night.
‘Mayster won’t have any strangers in the house.’ Her face was stony. ‘It’s his rule, not mine. I’d lose my place if I let anybody stay.’
Dismay ran through her. There had been a soft flurry of snow as she’d waited on the doorstep, and the next village was miles away. ‘I’d sleep on ’floor – anywhere.’
The woman turned to the man who sat with his elbows on the table staring glumly into space. He was a dour individual with heavy-lidded eyes and a turned down mouth. ‘Jed! See this young woman across. Make sure she’s all right.’
‘There’s no need.’ Annie answered huffily. ‘I can manage on me own.’
Jed got up from the table. ‘Nay. I’ll see thee off. It’s dark wi’out a lantern.’
Annie felt uneasy. She didn’t like the look of this man, she’d rather risk the darkness of the drive on her own. ‘I’ve got a dog,’ she said. ‘He’ll look after me.’
But Jed followed her out of the warm kitchen and picking up a lamp he stepped outside behind her.
‘Yon donkey’s sick,’ he said, as Annie put her pack into the cart. ‘He’ll not last long.’
‘He’s tired that’s all, like me. We’ve come a long way.’ She took hold of the snaffle. ‘I’ll be off then.’
‘This way, missus.’ He indicated with a turn of his head in the opposite direction. ‘Come wi’ me.’
‘That’s not ’way I came in.’ She swallowed hard and looked for Charlie who appeared to have gone off on business of his own. She called him. ‘Charlie! Charlie!’
‘Ssh. Don’t mek a row. Mayster’ll hear thee and want to know who’s been visiting.’ He took her by the arm. ‘It’s all right missus, don’t be frighted. I’ll not harm thee. We’ve just got to be careful, that’s all. Now, come wi’ me.’
One hand held the donkey and the other arm Jed had firmly in his clasp so that she had no option other than to follow him. They rounded the back of the house – no light was showing except for the circle of light from the lamp which Jed held – through a heavy barred gate into a foldyard and towards a barn door.
The door was slightly ajar and Jed pulled it wider. She could smell the warm odour of hay and heard the rustle of mice as the halo of lamplight disturbed them.
‘We allus keep this door open for travelling folk,’ he said. ‘Though mayster doesn’t know it and would order it shut if he did. Mrs Rogerson back there wouldn’t see thee without shelter. But young lass in kitchen is new and we don’t want her telling tales to him upstairs.’
Annie could have wept with relief and she thanked the man profusely. He unfastened the donkey’s harness for her and brought him a bucket of oats. The donkey didn’t eat but shuffled off to a trough of water and drank thirstily.
‘Here’s thy dog,’ Charlie came bounding up as Jed was about to leave, his tail wagging furiously.
She scolded him. ‘Tha’s supposed to be looking after me.’ She shook a finger at him and he sat down meekly and put up a paw to her.
‘That’s not thy dog? I’ve seen him afore.’
‘No, he’s been loaned to me. His owner couldn’t come on this trip, but he said I could have him. He guards me with his life,’ she added, ‘he’d attack anybody who tried owt.’
‘Aye, that he would. If he hadn’t gone off chasing rats or rabbits.’
Charlie put his head on his forepaws and gazed up at Annie as if he knew he was being chastized and Jed looked down at him, tapping his fingers against his mouth and a puzzled frown on his forehead.
Then his face cleared. ‘Ah. I’ve got it,’ he said. ‘I’ve got it. Goodnight then missus.’ He touched his forehead and moved away, leaving her in darkness.
She left the door open so that a sliver of light came through into the hay filled barn, and she arranged her packs around her to keep out the cold. But a wind began to rise and the door was blown wider and she got up to close it. She peeped outside. The snow was coming down fast and through the whiteness she saw a figure coming towards the barn. It was Mrs Rogerson and she was carrying a jug of milk and a piece of pie.
‘Be off before light,’ she said. ‘And if mayster should see thee, don’t tell him we let thee stay.’
Annie thanked her and closed the door firmly. She climbed back into her bed of hay and ate the vittals she had been given, and then lay down and tried to sleep. She heard the wind howling and called to Charlie to come beside her. She was so cold, her feet were like ice. She felt her boots, they were damp so she took them off and huddled her feet beneath her cloak.
When she woke there was a strong white light coming from beneath the door and filtering down though some broken tiles in the roof, and Annie hurriedly put on her boots thinking that she had overslept. She opened the door a crack and gasped. A thick white covering of snow cloaked the ground and the sky was heavy with the promise of more to come.
‘Come on, Charlie. We’d better get moving afore we’re spotted. I don’t want them good folks to get into trouble ’cos of me.’
She looked round for the donkey. ‘Come on Ned. I know tha’ll not want to go out, but we’re off home now.’
He wasn’t there. He’d been standing by the water trough last night as she’d tucked herself in amongst the hay, she’d seen his dark silhouette just before she’d fallen asleep.
He can’t have got out, I’ve only just opened ’door. She peered around the gloomy interior. Charlie left her side and went into a cor
ner. He put his head down enquiringly and then barked. Slowly she went across to him and bent down. There was Ned, as stiff as a board and quite dead.
14
Her first thought was how would she tell the Trotts that their donkey was dead? The second was how would she get back without it, ‘and then,’ she said aloud to Charlie, ‘How do I get rid of a dead donkey?’
She looked at the animal with some distaste. She wasn’t too fond of animals, though she was getting to like Charlie, and Ned had been all right when he had been cooperative, which wasn’t often. But dead, she decided, he was going to be a nuisance.
I can’t bury him, I can’t shift him for a start. And the ground will be hard. She stared at him. And I can’t leave him here, it wouldn’t be fair, he’ll soon stink ’place out.
She sat down on a bale of hay and opened up her packs. There wasn’t a great deal left and she managed to push all the lengths of cloth into one pack and strap it on her back and in the other pack she put the remaining small amount of tea and tobacco and fastened it around her waist. Then she opened the barn door and looked out. The snow lay pristine white, not a footstep on it, merely clawed imprints of pheasant or fowl.
She closed the door behind her and set off for the kitchen hoping that Jed or Mrs Rogerson would be about and she could tell them about the donkey, and ask if she could leave the cart with them until spring.
‘Hey! You! This is private land. Clear off!’
It was Jed shouting at her. He had a shotgun under his arm and was accompanied by an older man. A man in warm though dirty breeches and a heavy greatcoat who was undoubtedly the master of the house.
‘I’m sorry, sir.’ She addressed herself to Jed’s master. ‘I don’t mean to trespass. I arrived late last night and couldn’t make anybody hear, so I took ’liberty of sleeping in ’barn. I had to force ’door, though I didn’t break it. I knew a Christian gentleman like tha self wouldn’t turn anybody away on such a bad night.’
She smiled as sweetly as possible and gazed up at him. But her persuasiveness didn’t melt him for he gazed back at her with steely blue eyes.