by Linda Finlay
‘All right, little one?’ she asked, kissing the top of her silky, fair hair.
‘Sing me a song, Lily,’ Beth whispered. Although she was exhausted, Lily could tell her little sister was unsettled and so softly she began to croon the lullaby that usually sent her to sleep. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before she felt her sister’s body growing heavy, her breathing deeper.
Still cradling her in her arms, Lily leaned back against the chair. The crackle of the logs and warmth of the room relaxed her and soon she felt her own eyes growing heavy.
Waking with a start, she peered round the darkened room and saw her kindly aunt sitting watching her.
‘Where are Rob and Beth?’
‘Beth’s in her bed, bless her. She didn’t even stir when I took her from you. Robert’s checking on the chooks. Poor fellow; that accident has left him weak as a worm, hasn’t it?’
Lily nodded. ‘It’s certainly taken its toll on him. He gets frustrated not being able to do the things he did before.’
‘Well, your insides must be gnawing, my dear. Here, I’ve kept your supper warm. Eat up and then you must tell me what’s been going on.’
Gratefully, Lily took the plate of dabs, their appetizing smell reminding her just how long it had been since she’d last eaten. She ate hungrily and then, hands cradling her mug of hot milk, spoke about the terrible accident and the struggle they’d had to keep the cottage going. Unable to help herself, she gave a yawn.
‘Poor child, you’re drowsy as a dormouse. I’m guessing your mother’s been no help?’
‘She’s been out of her mind, Aunt Elizabeth. The shock of losing my father brought on the nervous prostration and she took to her bed. She’s seldom left it since.’
Her aunt pursed her lips as she glanced around the sparsely furnished room. ‘Judging from this mess of a muddle, I’m guessing not much cleaning’s been done either.’
Following her gaze, Lily’s eyes widened in horror as she took in the mud on the stone floor and the string of cobwebs festooning the low beams and fireplace. A thick layer of dust had settled on the dresser, which housed their few bits of crockery, and the old blankets covering their two rickety chairs needed washing. She also saw that the cover over Rob’s straw mattress on the other side of the room needed repairing. Only the table in the corner on which she kept her bobbins and thread was free from dust; she wouldn’t be able to sell her work if it wasn’t spotless. She hung her head in embarrassment. Before the accident, her mother had taken pride in keeping their modest home clean and tidy.
‘I’ve been too busy with my orders for lace to do much around the cottage. Rob does his best but some days his legs pain him so bad he can hardly move. But he’s good with Beth and keeps her amused whilst I’m working.’
The other woman put her head on one side, quizzically. ‘I’m sure you do your best. Forgive me for asking, Lily, but do you have any other money coming in?’
‘We’re managing,’ Lily retorted, her chin rising defensively. ‘Working from home means I can care for the family well enough, but I have to confess that jobbing pay is paltry and orders for pillow lace are dwindling.’
‘Rob said you’d been summoned to see Agent Pike?’
‘Yes, Mrs Bodney has offered me a position for six months but it will mean working from her cottage in Bransbeer along with the other lace makers. I’d have to be away from here all day, and with the family and cottage needing looking after that’s not possible. The money she offered is more than you’d believe, but we will only be paid at the end of each month. So you see, Aunt Elizabeth, with the family to feed, I can’t afford to take it anyway,’ Lily said, shaking her head.
‘Now let’s not be impulsive, Lily my dear,’ her aunt said quickly. ‘Mrs Bodney is a reputable businesswoman as well as an accomplished lace maker, so I’m guessing her order is for someone of renown. Am I right?’
‘Yes, it is. But you’ve been living in Exeter so how do you know about Mrs Bodney?’ Lily asked.
‘You’re forgetting that I too was brought up here in Coombe, where everybody knows everybody. It seems like only yesterday,’ her aunt said. ‘Your mother and I used to have such fun. She might have been the elder by a couple of years, but the japes she used to get into …’
‘Really?’ Lily asked, eyes widening at the thought of her staid, thirty-six-year-old mother misbehaving.
‘Oh, yes, I was always having to cover up for her. Of course, the tables were turned in the end …’ Her aunt’s voice petered out and she stared into the flames, seemingly lost in thought.
‘It sounds as if you were really close, Aunt Elizabeth, so why did you move away?’ Lily asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. Her aunt looked at her sharply. ‘Sorry, Aunt Elizabeth, I had no right to pry,’ she added gently.
‘No, dear, that’s all right, and when we have more time I will explain. It was always my wish to have more of a presence in your life. I kept in touch as much as I was able and, as you know, returned for visits when my duties permitted. Your mother was good at keeping me informed about family news so I was right puzzled when her communication ceased. Now, of course, I know it was because of the accident.’
Lily nodded, remembering the excitement Aunt Elizabeth’s occasional visits had caused, and letters that came periodically by the stagecoach. Then her thoughts returned to the present and her own news. Despite her predicament, she felt excitement bubbling up inside.
‘Mrs Bodney said the work has to be done to a strict timetable and we need to work sunrise to sunset to have it completed in time.’
As if tuning into her thoughts, her aunt brought the subject back to the present.
‘Regular work’s not easy to come by around here, is it?’ she asked.
‘No, and Tom says I won’t be able to walk the eight-mile round trip six days a week as well as look after everything at home.’
Her aunt glanced down at Lily’s boots sitting beside the hearth with their scuffed toecaps and worn soles.
‘Your Tom sounds a caring man, Lily, but how you’ve walked anywhere in those boots is beyond me. Things have been difficult for you these past months and I’d like to help. Seeing as I’m between situations, I’m free to suit myself, so why don’t you let me take care of things here while you work at Mrs Bodney’s cottage?’
‘You’d do that for us?’ Lily stared at her aunt in amazement. ‘Why?’
‘Because we’re family and, as I see it, a family’s like that lace you make. A single thread by itself is not very strong but when worked together with others it gathers strength. You won’t be able to manage everything by yourself but if we work together …’
Lily’s heart almost skipped a beat. ‘What can I say? It’s such a kind offer and I really don’t know how to thank you, Aunt Elizabeth,’ she said and then frowned. ‘But if I take the job we don’t have enough put by to last until I get paid at the end of the month.’
‘Well, not having to pay out for my board over the past years means I have eggs nested,’ her aunt said. Lily looked puzzled for a moment, then realized what she meant.
‘But you can’t use those to pay our bills; you hardly know us,’ she spluttered. Her aunt looked at her sadly for a moment, then shrugged.
‘I can’t think of a better way to spend them than on helping my family.’ Then, as Lily began to protest, she held up her hand. ‘Call it a lend until you get paid.’
‘But where would you sleep, Auntie? Mother, Beth and I share the bedroom and, as you can see, Rob has his bed in here.’ Lily nodded towards the mattress.
‘My, my, Lily Rose. All you see is problems. As it happens, I visited my friend Grace Goode before I came here, and she kindly offered me a bed. If I’m going to stay in Coombe for any length of time, I’ll sort out something sounder.’
‘Thank you, Aunt Elizabeth,’ Lily cried, jumping up and throwing her arms around the other woman. Her aunt returned her embrace then, looking flustered, became brisk again.
‘Now, we
really have to do something about those boots or your feet will be shredded. I left Doris in the back paddock; you can hitch her to the donkey-cart and ride to Bransbeer tomorrow. That’ll start you off on the right foot. Put her in the stable behind the hostelry, and if old Ned’s still there, tell him he’s to look after her whilst you’re at work.’
Lily was hardly able to believe her luck. Only an hour ago her hopeful future had been threatened. Now, thanks to her visitor, her dilemma was solved.
Smiling, her aunt Elizabeth gave her a quick hug. ‘Now, my dear, off you go to the land of nod. I’ll tidy up here and tell Rob what’s happening when he comes in.’
Next morning, as the first streaks of grey were lighting the sky, Lily carefully steered the donkey-cart down the lane from Coombe, turning eastwards onto the sunken cliff track with its canopy of wind-bent ancient oaks. Seeing the splashes of mauve dotting the verges, she felt her heart lift. Wild violets were her mother’s favourite flowers. She would stop and pick her some on the way home. They’d be sure to cheer her up, she thought, as the donkey-cart began its descent down the cliff path towards Bransbeer.
As she guided the cart into the yard behind the hostelry, old Ned, the stable hand, shuffled over and took the reins.
‘Aunt Elizabeth said to leave Doris here for the day while I’m working at Mrs Bodney’s,’ Lily said, smiling nervously as she climbed down from the cart.
‘Ah, come back, has she?’ he asked curiously, taking the reins and leading donkey and cart towards the stables.
With excitement bubbling up inside her again, Lily clutched her lace pillow to her chest and made her way down the lane towards Mrs Bodney’s cottage, which stood close to Agent Pike’s house. Her thoughts raced as fast as her footsteps as she finally allowed herself to think about the job she’d been offered and the secret she’d managed to keep since the previous day. Who would believe that she, Lily Rose, was going to make lace for Queen Victoria’s wedding dress?
CHAPTER 3
Suddenly Lily stopped in her tracks. Supposing her work wasn’t good enough? She stood in the lane dithering, her excitement replaced by doubts.
Peasants are plucky people. Remember, you can do anything you set your mind to, our Lily.
Hearing her father’s whispered words, her heart leaped and for one magical moment she thought he was standing right beside her. Of course he wasn’t, but she remembered he’d always encouraged her to believe in herself and, certain she could feel his presence spurring her on, she continued her journey. An old lady stopped and waved as Lily walked between the terraces of cob and thatch cottages, and she smiled happily back.
On reaching Mrs Bodney’s property, she noticed it was larger than its neighbours and set well back from the others. As she carefully skirted the brook to reach it, her stomach began to churn once more. Clutching her pillow tighter and reminding herself this was the chance of a lifetime, she stepped through the gate. Never had she seen a cottage as grand as this before, she thought, marvelling at the red and blue patterned brickwork. Resisting the urge to peer through the leaded windows, she lifted the little brass knocker.
The maid who answered seemed younger than Lily and was impeccably dressed in the customary black cotton dress, but her snowy white cap and apron were edged with lace. As she was shown through to the large, open workroom, Lily looked down at her own brown woollen homespun skirt and coarse linen apron, and felt decidedly drab. With money being tighter than ever these past few months, new material had been the last thing on her mind. When she got paid, she’d visit the draper in Sidmouth. She was pondering the colour she’d buy – and the look on Tom’s face as he walked her along the promenade in her new finery – when a voice as sharp as a butcher’s blade sliced through her thoughts.
‘Don’t stand there cluttering the doorway, girl. Since you’ve decided to grace us with your presence at last, be seated and we can commence the day’s work.’
Embarrassed, Lily snapped back to the present to find Mrs Bodney, lips pursed in a tight line, staring at her with those all-seeing conker-bright eyes. Glancing around the room, she deduced she was the last to arrive and hastily sank onto the only vacant stool beside her eight or nine fellow workers. Across the table, a woman of middle years with silver streaking her tawny hair shot her a sympathetic smile, but before she could respond Mrs Bodney’s strident voice was addressing the room.
‘Ladies, welcome to this, my most important venture yet. I say welcome and you are, provided you heed the following instructions. We are working together in my cottage because this commission is confidential. Before we proceed, I must remind you not to reveal a word to anyone about what is being made here. Do I make myself clear?’ She paused and they nodded.
‘There will be some people intent on finding out what you are making. They may even offer you a bribe to reveal the secret, and anyone doing so must be reported to me immediately. You all know for whom we are undertaking this work and you can believe me when I tell you that, in months to come, the eyes of the highest gentry in the country will be upon our handicraft. You are the finest lace makers in Devonshire; however, do not flatter yourselves that you are indispensable.’ Mrs Bodney stared at each of them in turn. ‘If necessary, you can, and will, be replaced.’
There was silence as she studied them again, and Lily held her breath in case she was already found wanting.
‘However,’ Mrs Bodney continued, ‘I expect you to work diligently. In return you will receive the wage already mentioned, which is above the going rate.’ She afforded them a rare smile before continuing.
‘Usually you receive your wages in credit, which you have to use to purchase goods at exorbitant rates from your employers’ huckster shops, do you not?’
The women groaned their agreement, for the trucking system had long been a sore subject with them.
‘Well, ladies, good news. As you know, your money for this commission will be paid at the end of each month.’ A collective groan sounded around the room but then their employer smiled. ‘You will, however, receive it all in cash.’
Lily’s heart soared as a cheer went up. Conditions here were better than she could ever have dreamed and her impression of this straight-backed, dignified woman rose ever higher.
‘Use the money wisely, ladies, and, better still, maybe put some by for the hard times,’ Mrs Bodney continued, looking so serious Lily forced herself to concentrate. ‘In return, I expect total loyalty and will have no hesitation in dismissing anyone who breaches my trust. Before I hand out the cotton thread, please ensure your hands are scrupulously clean. If they are even slightly grubby, go outside and wash them at the pump in the yard.’
The ladies glanced at each other but their employer was continuing with her speech.
‘Our Queen has decided to break with tradition and wear a white satin wedding gown, which is being made at Spitalfields as we speak. Our job is to produce the lace for the flounce, veil and collar along with other embellishments. As the flounce alone is to measure 25½ inches deep by 4 yards in circumference, you can see the challenge that our time restraint poses. All the lace must be ready to be sewn up by the beginning of November.’
‘Surely we won’t be able to manage all that work in six months,’ exclaimed the tawny-haired woman.
Mrs Bodney smiled. ‘You leave the details to me, Mary. Now, ladies, are you ready to begin making the finest lace ever?’
As a wave of agreement rippled around the room, Mrs Bodney’s eyes twinkled, her features softening for a second before she resumed her strict composure. Well, I’ll be, thought Lily, her lips twitching. The old girl’s got a heart after all. She spoke too soon.
‘Would you care to share your secret joke, Lily?’ Mrs Bodney asked, giving her such a penetrating stare Lily was sure the other woman could see into her heart.
‘Oh, no, Mrs Bodney, I don’t have any secret to share,’ she stammered, feeling her cheeks grow hot.
‘Good. The only secret I want here is that which is made in
this room. Now let us begin our day’s work.’
As Lily began pricking out the pattern, she risked a glance around the room. The other ladies, all working industriously at their pillows, seemed older than she. Quickly she looked down at her own lace, determined to be as conscientious as they.
The morning passed swiftly as they all followed Mrs Bodney’s instructions. She was a stickler for perfection. Just as Lily felt she had mastered the pattern, their employer picked up a little brass bell and shook it vigorously.
‘Ladies, time for you to take a break. Due to the delicate nature of our work no refreshments are permitted in this room. However, you may partake of your nuncheon in the back yard. The fresh air will invigorate you, ready for a productive afternoon’s work.’
Eagerly, the women picked up their noon pieces and filed outside. Lily perched on the low stone wall enclosing the little yard, enjoying the warmth of the midday sun as it eased the stiffness from her shoulders. Being hunched over her pillow for hours on end was agony on the back. Looking around, she took in the pump with its stone trough and the privy in the corner. Biting into the bread her aunt had baked the previous afternoon, she thought how good it was to have someone else looking after her family at the cottage. The other women were chattering like magpies as they compared their morning’s progress and Lily smiled, happy to be amongst them. Then, Mrs Bodney appeared, ringing her little brass bell and reminding them to wash their hands before starting work again.
‘It’s like being back in Sunday school,’ whispered Mary, the woman with the silver streaks in her tawny hair, as they rinsed their hands at the pump.
‘Lord help us if she expects us to say grace,’ copper-haired Nell shrieked, quickly turning it into a cough when Mrs Bodney glanced their way.
‘Where is your cap, Nell? Please see that you are properly attired before you return to the workroom,’ their employer instructed as they filed past her.