by Linda Finlay
‘For God’s sake tell her,’ hissed Mary. This was greeted with a snort of disgust from Cora.
‘All right, it was me,’ she muttered, her green eyes narrowing.
‘And I had to say I’d gone wrong to distract you,’ owned Nell.
‘I see,’ said Lily. ‘Well, in that case, Cora, you will mend my pillow before doing any more lace work.’
‘But that will make me even more behind,’ she spluttered.
‘You should have thought of that before coming up with such a stupid prank, Cora. Nell, you will clear up the droppings our little friend has left and then sweep the floor to make sure it’s thoroughly clean. The rest of you can pick up your bobbins. If you have any sense, you will work like weasels to make up for lost time. Then, with any luck, Mrs Bodney won’t find out.’
‘You mean you aren’t going to tell her?’ Cora asked, staring at her incredulously.
‘If your work is back on schedule by the time she returns, I won’t need to, will I?’ Lily responded.
Relieved they’d been let off so lightly, Cora and Nell hurried over to Lily’s pillow and began clearing up the mess they’d created. The others snatched up their bobbins and fervently resumed their work. As silence filled the room once more, Lily silently let out the breath she’d been holding. Then she walked over to the window and began winding thread onto spare bobbins in order to save time later.
‘They were expecting you to scream when you saw that mouse,’ Mary whispered.
‘What? When I was brought up on a farm?’ asked Lily, grinning. If they thought they would scare her off that easily, they had another thought coming.
‘I’ve mended your pillow, Lily,’ Cora announced. Lily went over to inspect it and was surprised to find the repair was hardly noticeable. She knew better than to say so, though.
‘Yes, that will do, Cora. You may return to your own work now,’ she said, but Cora hovered. ‘Well, is there something else?’ Lily asked, impatient to make a start on her own lace.
‘Will you be taking anything out of my wages for the damage?’ she asked, her voice unnaturally subdued.
‘No, Cora, I won’t.’ The girl brightened and Lily added, ‘But only if you promise me there will be no more tricks like this. We have got to work together for some time yet so we may as well try and help each other, don’t you think?’
Cora nodded vigorously and then hurried back to her own pillow. Lily hoped there would be no more trouble but knew she’d need to keep her wits about her.
She glanced around the room, pleased to see everyone was working furiously. Clearly they were anxious to make up for lost time and the workroom was silent apart from the clacking of their bobbins. Settling down to continue the sprig she’d begun earlier, Lily realized she was going to earn every farthing of her pay rise.
It seemed no time at all before the shadows were creeping across the room and Lily picked up the bell to signal the end of the working day.
‘Have you all made up the time you lost earlier?’ she enquired. Nodding their heads, the ladies eyed her warily. ‘In that case you may cover your work and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.’
As the sound of their voices faded away, Lily sank on her stool, relieved to have made it through her first day as overseer. Then, conscious her employer would soon be returning, she got up and began inspecting their work. Luckily, despite their earlier escapades, the lace appeared to be up to standard. She was just returning to her own pillow when Mrs Bodney bustled into the workroom.
‘Well, Lily, I’m pleased to say the ladies at High House have had a productive day. I hope yours have too. Did you encounter any problems?’
‘Not really. Everyone has achieved the amount of work required for us to keep to the schedule.’
‘And did you experience any difficulty with the ladies accepting you as their overseer?’
‘I think they now understand my position, Mrs Bodney,’ Lily answered, wishing to be truthful without giving them away.
‘Hmm,’ her employer said, looking at her closely. To Lily’s relief, she didn’t pursue the matter, asking instead, ‘Did you receive any visitors?’
‘Just Squire Clinsden, ma’am,’ she answered.
‘Did he perchance call to place an order for lace?’
The thought of that unlikely scenario made Lily smile and she shook her head.
‘Well, if you encounter any problems, and I do mean any, you must feel free to bring them to me.’
Lily looked at Mrs Bodney in surprise.
‘In the short time I have known you, Lily, you have become a valued employee and I should hate to lose you.’
Shocked by the woman’s perception, she stammered, ‘Thank you, Mrs Bodney.’
‘That’s all for today, Lily. Just remember what I’ve said,’ and with that she left the room.
The arrangements for her mother’s funeral had been made and Aunt Elizabeth, having declined Lily’s offer to help, had been tidying and cleaning like a demented demon to ensure the cottage was presentable for those coming back to pay their respects after the service.
Now it was the Sabbath and, while Aunt Elizabeth was enjoying a well-earned rest, Lily and Tom packed a picnic of bread and freshly made brawn and went out to the orchard. It was a beautiful morning. The trees were laden with fragrant, feathery blossom and a skylark trilled overhead. Tom took off his jacket and spread out a blanket on the grass. Then, sitting side by side, he and Lily tucked into their meal, revelling in the rare treat of not having to rush. Afterwards, they lay on their backs watching the fluffy clouds and playing their favourite game.
‘That one looks like a fish,’ murmured Tom.
‘What’s that cloud like, then?’ she asked.
‘A wolf?’ he guessed.
‘No, it’s a dragon,’ she laughed.
‘Like your Mrs Bodney, you mean?’
‘Oh, Tom, she’s really nice when you get to know her. By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve been made up to overseer and—’ But Tom had spotted her brother returning in the donkey-cart and jumped to his feet.
‘Hey, Rob, we’ve some food left if you want to join us,’ he called. But Robert shook his head, glared at Lily and passed by without stopping.
‘What’s up with him?’ Tom asked.
‘He’s sore at me,’ she muttered.
‘What do you mean?’ he asked, looking at her sharply.
She sighed. ‘He’s blaming me for Mother’s death. When the squire told her about Stanton moving in here, he said there was a job with a room for me at the manor. If I take it, a hut in the grounds would be made available for them to live in.’
‘Yes, but how does that make you responsible for your mother’s death?’
‘I refused to even consider the proposition and Robert got the notion that’s what killed her. Aunt Elizabeth said it was the shock of knowing she was to lose her home, though. It was just too much, it coming so soon after Father’s death.’
Tom looked serious for a moment, then shook his head. ‘Look, Lily, I know you like this job with Mrs Bodney but it doesn’t give you anywhere to live, does it? Surely, it’d be better if you did work for the squire, even temporary like? Leastways, you’d all have a roof over your heads?’
‘No, I couldn’t work for that pomp— I mean, it makes sense for us to move nearer to Mrs Bodney’s so I’ll be making other arrangements …’ Her voice tailed away as she saw his eyes narrow.
‘Has Squire Clinsden done something to upset you, Lily?’ he asked, studying her closely.
‘Of course not, whatever gave you that idea?’ she asked, jumping to her feet and gathering up their picnic things.
‘It was something Molly said,’ he muttered.
‘Well?’ she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
‘What do you mean, well?’
‘I mean, Tom Westlake, just what was it that your dear old school friend said?’ she asked, glaring at him.
He looked away, shruggi
ng. ‘I guess it was nothing. Look, Lily, it’s been an awful week and you’re exhausted. I need to check the nets before we sail tomorrow, so I’ll leave you to get some rest,’ he said.
‘I will see you for the funeral?’ she asked, looking worriedly at him.
‘I’ll be here first thing Wednesday,’ he promised before turning and striding across the orchard towards the cliff path. With heavy heart she watched him go. Just what had that scheming shrew Molly Baker said to him?
CHAPTER 9
It was a sombre procession, dressed in their best, dark clothes that trudged behind the cart as it wended its way to St Winifred’s church that Wednesday morning. Lily had been up before dawn, collecting the wild violets her mother had loved. Now they sat atop the wooden casket, a tiny splash of colour in the gloom, as it bore her body on its final journey. Lily’s hair felt damp as she pushed stray strands back under her black cap. Somehow, though, it seemed appropriate the day was dank and mizzly. Friends and neighbours, their heads bowed, lined the narrow winding street as they passed slowly by. Those fortunate to have curtains at their windows had pulled them shut out of respect.
Lily took a deep breath, determined not to cry even though Robert was still studiously ignoring her. Aunt Elizabeth assured Lily he would come round in time.
To her consternation, as they entered the church, she saw Squire Clinsden seated in his family pew. He rose to his feet, head bowed as the funeral cortège slowly made its way down the aisle. However, as Lily passed, he glanced up briefly, his eyes taunting. Biting back her anger, Lily followed her aunt into the front pew.
The service was pitifully short, and despite Lily having told the parson what her mother’s favourite hymns had been he saw fit to substitute his own choice of prayers as he deemed singing inappropriate at funerals. Personally, Lily thought it would lift their spirits. Still it didn’t do to question the parson, did it?
Now they were standing in the churchyard that looked down over the rolling valley. As his voice intoned the final blessing, the simple casket was lowered into the freshly dug hole. Lily could smell the damp earth and had to bite her lip to stop herself crying out. It seemed so final. The parson signalled to her to scatter the first handful of soil but, as she moved forward, her legs buckled and it was only Tom’s quick reaction that saved her from falling in as well.
‘Steady, Lily,’ he whispered, squeezing her hand. ‘You’re doing fine; your mother would be proud of you.’
Grateful for his reassurance, she gave him a wobbly smile. Robert, leaning heavily on his stick, was standing beside them and she saw him wipe a tear from his cheek. Her heart went out to him and, reaching over, she put her free arm through his. He turned, and, for the first time since their mother’s death, gave her a lopsided grin. Relief flooded through her and she smiled back. At that moment, a single golden sunbeam burst through the clouds and, although she knew it was fanciful, she liked to think it was their mother showing her approval that brother and sister were on good terms once more.
Then she saw the squire making his way towards them. Quickly turning away, Lily heard him offering his condolences to Aunt Elizabeth and Robert.
‘Thank you, sir,’ her aunt replied. Then to Lily’s horror she added, ‘We are holding the funeral wake back at the cottage. It will be a small affair but you’d be welcome to join us.’ Lily held her breath, her heart racing.
‘That is most kind of you, but I merely came to pay my respects. Mrs Rose was the widow of one of my most valued workers and will be sorely missed,’ Squire Clinsden said, bestowing his benign grin. Charlatan, Lily wanted to shout at his retreating back. Really the man was an out-and-out hypocrite. No doubt he’d only attended to look gracious in front of everyone.
‘Are you all right, Lily?’ Tom asked, concerned.
‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you,’ she replied, feeling anything but.
‘My dear, how lovely to see you, although, of course, I wish it was under happier circumstances.’
Lily turned towards the booming voice. ‘Uncle Vincent,’ she exclaimed, as the jovial man approached. ‘I hadn’t realized you were here.’
‘No reason why you should, Lily. Please accept my sincere condolences on your sad loss. Your mother was a fine woman.’
‘Thank you, Uncle,’ she whispered, biting her lip as the tears threatened to spill once more. Then, remembering her manners, she added, ‘You remember my betrothed, Tom Westlake, don’t you, Uncle?’
‘Of course I do,’ he responded, shaking Tom by the hand. ‘And a man who makes such a fine choice has got to be a sensible one in my books.’ As Tom flushed with pleasure, Lily shook her head.
‘I think it’s time we headed back home,’ she said.
Torn between duty and respect, Lily had made the decision not to return to work that day. Instead she accompanied her aunt back to the cottage, handing out steaming mugs of broth and freshly baked bread to fortify and warm the mourners. A large pound cake, one of Aunt Elizabeth’s specialities, had already been cut into generous wedges and was displayed on the freshly polished dresser next to a dish of strong cheese.
Accepting condolences, her face frozen into a smile, Lily was determined not to break down. At first, the conversation was about her mother, but then it turned to their coming eviction and she felt a rush of panic tightening her chest and tying her stomach in knots. News of Squire Clinsden’s offer had spread and Lily’s neighbours all assumed she’d be taking up the position at the manor.
She knew they’d be shocked when they found out she intended to continue working in Bransbeer, but today was not the time to break the news. Luckily, Mrs Bodney had consented to her taking these few hours off, though not before Lily had agreed to make up the time, for now they were working to an even more demanding timetable. She just hoped her ladies were working diligently in her absence.
The babble of voices jolted her back to the present and she saw her brother in earnest conversation with Uncle Vincent. Then she noticed her aunt was still scuttling around ensuring everyone’s plate was filled.
‘Come along, Aunt Elizabeth,’ she said, taking the other woman’s arm and leading her towards an empty chair. ‘You’ve been on your feet since before daybreak. Sit here and chat to Uncle while I get you some refreshment.’
‘Are you bearing up, Lily?’ Tom whispered, following her to the dresser.
‘Just about, Tom. I really appreciate you being with me today.’
‘I’ll always be here to support you, Lily my love,’ he murmured. She stood there for a few moments, drawing comfort from his presence. Then she heard their visitors preparing to take their leave, and, giving him a rueful smile, she went to say goodbye and thank them for coming.
Uncle Vincent was the last to leave, having issued an invitation for Lily and Tom to visit him in Ilminster whenever they could. When he’d gone Lily leaned back against the door and closed her eyes. She was just gathering her thoughts when Robert hobbled over to her.
‘Lily, I’m sorry. I should never have blamed you for Mother’s death. It wasn’t your fault, I can see that now.’ As he stood there looking shamefaced, her heart went out to him.
‘It’s all right, Rob,’ she whispered, going over and kissing his cheek. ‘Everything will work out, you’ll see.’ He smiled, relief spreading across his face. Then as he opened his mouth to say more, she quickly asked, ‘Can you go and help Tom finish clearing away in the scullery?’ and without giving him time to answer, she hurried through to the front room where her aunt was banking up the fire.
‘I want to talk to you about young Beth,’ Aunt Elizabeth said, as Lily flopped into a chair. ‘How would you feel about her staying with Grace and Harriet for a bit longer?’ Lily stared at her aunt in surprise and the woman continued, ‘It might be best, what with things being all up and airy here. Grace has shown them how to pack pillows with straw and they’ve even started producing some good lace work between them. Little Beth is helping to pay her way, Lily.’
She could se
e the sense in her suggestion, but Beth was her little sister, for heaven’s sake.
‘You’ve done your best for her, I know,’ Aunt Elizabeth continued. ‘But now you’re away down to Bransbeer before she wakes and most days she’s abed by the time you return. She’s lost without you, Lily. Oh, it’s not your fault,’ she added, seeing Lily’s frown. ‘But think about it. Grace has a tender heart and she looks after Beth like one of her own. I can’t deny I’m enjoying seeing more of the child too.’
‘But it’s not really fair on Mrs Goode to have another mouth to feed, what with her being a widow,’ Lily said, feeling uncomfortable.
‘Don’t you worry about that, my dear, for I’ve been sharing the stews and brawn I make. Besides, as I said, she wants to help. Remember your mother looked after Harriet when her Walter was so poorly.’ Lily nodded. ‘And if you’re really determined not to take up the squire’s offer, it will give you more time to find somewhere to live if you’re not having to mind Beth,’ her aunt said.
‘Yes, you’re right, Aunt Elizabeth, but I can’t deny that it will be strange without anybody else in there,’ Lily said, sighing as she looked towards the next room. Then she noticed lying on the shelf the lace work she’d begun before she went to work for Mrs Bodney. Picking it up, she handed it to her aunt. ‘Perhaps Mrs Goode would like to finish this. She can give it to the journeyman when he calls and receive the payment.’
‘That’s generous of you, Lily. Well, that just leaves us with Robert to sort out now.’
‘Rob? I don’t think he’d like to share a room with me,’ Lily said, looking up in surprise.
Her aunt laughed. ‘No, dear, that’s not what I meant. That dreadful accident might have left him a cripple, but he’s still got a good head on his shoulders. Wandering around here feeling useless day after day’s not doing him any good and now, of course, he’s fretting about the flitting.’
Guiltily, Lily realized she hadn’t given any thought to how her brother must be feeling.