by Linda Finlay
‘What’s this cooper like?’ Wyllow asked, her eyes sparking interest as she patted her dark curls.
‘Knowing you, you’ll soon make it your business to find out,’ Tressa laughed. ‘Perhaps the handsome Nicco will have to vie for your attention and that double-ended pasty you were making this afternoon. Oh sprats; I’m sorry, Merry.’
‘You needn’t be. Nicco doesn’t get any encouragement from me, I can assure you.’
‘What’s his name, is he good-looking and how old is he?’ Wyllow asked, grinning wickedly.
‘He’s called Otto and very pleasant. That first lot of pilchards will ready for packing and so you’re bound to meet him then.’
‘And Nicco will pay us cash for that,’ Marya said, brightening.
Merry smiled, marvelling, not for the first time, at how resilient these women were. Nothing kept them down for long.
They reached the harbour to find Kelys leaning against the wall.
‘So what was this new order for then?’ she asked Merry.
‘A dozen knit frocks.’
‘And you got paid all in cash for the last lot?’ Merry patted her pocket and nodded. ‘Well, haven’t you got it made,’ Kelys snarled. ‘Not content to have the boss’s son running round after you, you use your charms on that agent to get a better rate.’
‘But it was you who suggested …’ Merry began, but once again she was talking to herself for the woman was stalking towards her cottage. The others glanced awkwardly at each other, then, with apologetic looks at Merry, followed after her.
Kelys didn’t waste a moment. No sooner had they gathered around than she began holding court. Merry sighed, once again feeling an outsider in her own village. How she wished Jenna was still with her. Her friend would have stood up for her, making the others see sense and laughing until Kelys’s good humour was restored.
She stood gazing forlornly over the harbour where the boats were tied up for the night, their gaff jaws creaking against their masts, and the water slapping against the clinker hulls. Fishermen leaned against their huts, enjoying a last smoke of the evening, the tips of their home rollies glowing red against the lengthening shadows. Village life was going on as normal around her, yet Merry felt curiously detached, as if she no longer belonged. Perhaps it was time she gave serious thought to how she was going to turn her dream of a new life beyond this little fishing port into reality. Her gaze automatically went to the granite house on the opposite cliff.
A slither of silver moon glimmered in the darkening sky as it rose behind the chimneys. It was surrounded by a scattering of stars that glittered like diamonds on a brooch. With a jolt she was reminded of Nicco and his proposition that morning. Not for the first time she thanked her own lucky stars for his fortuitous meeting with Otto. At least she’d been spared having to stop for supper. Thinking of food made her realize she was hungry, and with a last wistful look at the little group of knitters who were still listening to Kelys, she wended her way through the warren to home.
The next few weeks passed in a frenzy of activity. By day Merry knitted furiously, determined to fulfil her order for Mr Fairbright. When she’d joined the little army of women in their usual place, Kelys had made it plain her company wasn’t welcome so she’d taken her pins up to the point. Alone with her thoughts, her brain worked as quickly as her hands as she pondered her predicament.
Far out at sea she could see the little boats bobbing on the swell as Pucky Pint and his fishermen worked tirelessly hauling in the pilchards. True to his word, he’d sent the money he owed for the limpets and, as was her way, Grozen had stashed it in the tea caddy to help see them through the winter when there would be no fish to supplement their knitting.
On the quay below, Otto was whistling cheerfully as he fashioned the strong barrels that would hold their precious catch, before it was preserved and transported to distant shores. Merry noticed he’d discarded his jerkin in the heat and his arms were as brown as the wood he was fashioning. She couldn’t help smiling, when at noon each day Wyllow sauntered casually over to offer him a pasty or floury bap. He would smile and take them politely before immediately resuming his work. From her vantage point, Merry could almost reach out and touch the girl’s frustration.
Come early evening, with her work growing satisfyingly heavy, Merry would return to the cottage to share a bite to eat with her mother and grandmother. She was pleased to see they were happier and healthier now they had sufficient to eat and money to pay the rent. Yet as her mother and Grozen chatted over their meal, Merry couldn’t help brooding on the future.
The abundance of work at the pallace meant everyone’s spirits were high, and slowly Kelys began to thaw. One evening the two women were standing side by side, pressing down fish in the hogsheads with heavy weights, when they saw Nicco hurry past.
‘Not paying you much attention these days, is he?’ Kelys commented.
‘Thank heavens for small mercies,’ Merry said with feeling.
‘Well, I can’t begin to understand you, girl. As I’ve said before, I wouldn’t say no to a handsome man like that, especially with his prospects. Still, happen you’ve always thought yourself above the likes of us.’
‘What’s that meant to mean?’ Merry asked, turning to face the woman.
‘Well, you’ve made it plain we’re not good enough. You want to meet new people and …’
‘There’s nothing wrong with Merry wanting to make a better life for herself, Kelys,’ Karenza interrupted, linking arms with her daughter.
‘Ah, but as you know, the moon doesn’t always shine brighter elsewhere, does it?’ the woman retorted.
Karenza shrugged. ‘Well you can’t blame a person for wanting to find out, can you? How’s that damping down going, by the way?’ The woman bristled with indignation and Merry thought Kelys was about to explode but then she seemed to shrivel before their eyes.
‘I ain’t doing it out of choice,’ she sighed. ‘’Tis the only way to pay the bills.’
‘Is it?’ Karenza asked, staring at the woman until she looked down at the ground.
‘It’s all right for you; you’ve got your Merry to sell your frocks. My family’s too busy with their own affairs to worry about their old mother.’ The woman’s eyes clouded and she looked so sad, Merry’s heart went out to her.
‘Perhaps I could speak to Mr Fairbright …’ Merry began.
‘Not if she’s cheating on the agent you won’t,’ Karenza cut in. ‘Come along, Merry, Grozen will be waiting with a warm drink.’
As her mother pulled her away, Merry frowned. ‘But I might be able to help, Mother.’
Karenza shook her head. ‘We don’t want to be associated with any dodgy dealing, Merry. Mud sticks and that woman changes her mind more often than she casts on her stitches. Come on, I want a word with you before we get home.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with Grozen, is there?’ Merry asked.
‘Funnily enough, she asked me the same about you earlier. Said you’d taken to knitting up at the point by yourself. She thinks you’ve been fretting over something. It’s not that Nicco, is it? I know he’s not been very attentive but it is his busiest time and …’
‘I’m enjoying the break from his suggestions, Mother, believe you me,’ Merry said with feeling.
‘What’s wrong then? You should be happy now you’re going to Plymouth every month.’
‘I’ve only been twice, Mother, and each time Nicco’s watched me like a sparrowhawk.’
‘He’s just looking out for you. Not that he has recently, I admit, since he’s taken to going to the tavern with that Otto each evening.’
‘For which I’m truly grateful,’ Merry said with feeling.
‘Come along, let’s sit here a while and we can talk properly,’ her mother said, pulling her down beside her on the stone steps. ‘So if it’s not Nicco troubling you, what is?’
Merry thought for a moment, wondering how best to tell her mother that visiting Plymouth once a month wasn�
��t enough.
‘You were in service near Plymouth, weren’t you?’
‘You know that, our Merry, although I stayed on the Cornwall side of the Tamar. Work at that big house was busy in the extreme, rising before dawn and not getting to bed till the last bit of tidying-up was finished.’
‘It sounds more exciting than here, though,’ Merry whispered.
Her mother gave a harsh laugh. ‘We didn’t get paid as much as we do at the pallace, although, granted, it was regular work.’
‘But you met different people and …’
‘Oh, don’t you go listening to that woman. Kelys might have had a hard life but then so have most round here. There’s a lot to be said for family, and if she’d been nicer to hers they might want to visit her now.’ Her mother turned to face her. ‘I can see there’s more, so spit it out, our Merry.’
‘I’m fed up with smelling of fish and I want to do something different.’ As the words came bursting out, her mother looked thoughtful.
‘I heard Mrs Grace is looking for help in her travellers’ lodging house. It’s only at the top of the village so you would be able to come home each evening.’ Merry’s heart sank. That was where Sharp junior was staying and there was no way she could work there. Besides it wouldn’t get her away from here, would it? Catching sight of the outline of the imposing granite house opposite, her resolve hardened.
‘Come along, Grozen will wonder where we’ve got to,’ her mother urged, getting to her feet.
‘I think I’ll take a walk and clear my head,’ Merry replied, hurrying down to the beach before her mother could dissuade her.
As her feet crunched over the pebbles, she lifted her face to the cool breeze wafting in from the sea. Picking up a handful of stones she threw them as hard as she could then stood listening to the plopping sounds as they landed in the water. Gradually, the rhythmic shooshing of the waves being sucked in and out of the shingle soothed her spirits. She stared out at the horizon, which now, at nearly midsummer, was navy rather than black, and she couldn’t help wondering what lay beyond.
Lost in her reverie, it was some moments before she heard the crunch of footsteps on the stones behind her. Turning quickly, she saw Otto making his way towards her.
‘Evening, Merry,’ he called, lifting his cloth cap in greeting. ‘I was leaving the tavern when I saw you flinging those stones like fury and thought I’d better see if I could save the poor things.’
‘But I was only …’ she began, then, seeing he was teasing, giggled.
‘That’s better. Why don’t we take a pew and you can tell me what’s troubling you?’ he said, gesturing to a nearby groyne.
Sitting side by side with him in the near darkness, with the waves lapping at their feet, Merry suddenly felt self-conscious. She didn’t really know this man, after all.
‘Mother always said if you share a trouble then someone else can worry about it as well,’ Otto said.
‘Are you close to her?’ she asked. She heard him sigh into the darkness.
‘I was before she was taken last winter.’
‘Oh, Otto, I’m sorry and here’s me …’ Her voice tailed off.
‘And here’s you what? Come on, tell Father Confessor.’
She smiled but there was something compelling about his gaze and, under the cover of the evening skies, she found herself telling him of her hopes and desires.
‘So you see, Otto, the other knitters resent me for getting paid a fair price. Grozen and Mother want me to marry Nicco and stay in the village but I want to see what life lies beyond before it’s too late. I’m already seventeen, after all.’
‘A great old age indeed,’ he agreed, so solemnly she had to laugh.
‘Now you’re mocking me.’
‘Not really. Nobody can make you settle down with Nicco – or anyone else, if it comes to that. It’s your life, your choice.’
‘But Nicco won’t take no for an answer,’ she cried. ‘Although since you’ve been here I’ve hardly seen him.’
‘I have my uses then,’ Otto laughed. ‘Nicco’s a good man, just a tad headstrong. He naturally assumes everyone wants the same as he.’ They lapsed into silence as she digested what he’d said.
‘I suppose you think I’m selfish and stupid,’ she said eventually.
‘No, I don’t, Merry. In some ways I understand only too well for I couldn’t wait to leave the village of my home either. It seems to me there are two points here, though. The agent these other women deal with has treated them badly and they are taking it out on you. Then there’s your desire to have a different life from the one your family want for you.’
‘Well, yes, but it’s far more complicated than that,’ she protested.
‘Is it? Or is it your conscience getting the better of you?’
‘My conscience?’ she asked, not understanding.
He nodded. ‘Maybe you’re feeling guilty for getting a good price for your work, even though you’ve put yourself out to seek it. I mean, that Mr Fairbright never came knocking on your door, did he?’
Merry giggled at the thought of the dapper man standing outside their humble cottage.
‘That’s better. You can only help people if they’re willing to accept it. Although if you’re intending to leave here who would carry on that fancy pattern of yours?’
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ she admitted.
They sat in silence, watching as the moon rose higher in the sky, casting silver shadows like rungs of a ladder over the sea.
‘My mother used to say, if you take one step at a time you can usually see the way ahead. Not that I took any notice of her when I was your age, of course, any more than you will of yours. ’Tis the way of life that we have to find out what life’s about for ourselves. ’Cos if we don’t we end up feeling resentful.’ He leaned forward and chucked her under the chin.
‘Oi, what you doing with my girl?’ As Nicco’s angry voice carried on the night air, they sprang apart.
CHAPTER 9
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Otto?’ Nicco demanded. ‘I told you, Merry’s my girl.’
‘Keep your hair on, pal. We were just having a chat,’ Otto replied in such a reasonable voice Merry almost wanted him to declare he’d been courting her himself. Then she saw the set of Nicco’s chin, the glint in his eyes.
‘If Merry has anything to discuss she will speak to me,’ Nicco spat. ‘Come along, girl, I’ll walk you home. You shouldn’t be out at this time of night,’ he said, proffering his hand.
Ignoring it, she jumped to her feet. ‘I can see myself home, thank you, Nicco. Good night, Otto, and thank you for listening.’ As she crunched her way back up the beach, she heard Nicco’s angry voice followed by Otto’s calm tones.
Thankfully her mother and grandmother were asleep as she tiptoed past their beds and threw herself down on her mattress. How dare Nicco refer to her as his? He made it sound as if she was a toy, something to be possessed. She’d make sure she stayed out of his way the next evening.
Fate was against her, though. She was in the pallace, checking the specially made drains that collected the oil and salt were clear, when a shadow fell over her.
‘Good evening, Merry,’ Nicco said, grinning as if their disagreement of the previous night had never happened. She forced a smile but remained silent. ‘I fear I have been negligent in my duties this past month.’
‘Surely not,’ she said, staring around at the barrels of fish that lined the walls, the pots of ‘train oil’ waiting to be sold for use in the preparation of leather and as nightlights. ‘It looks as if it’s been a very productive time, Nicco.’
‘I wasn’t referring to my work, Merry. Nobody is more industrious or conscientious than Nicco Neaple. No, I meant in paying attention to my betrothed.’ As he flashed another grin, she felt herself grow hot.
‘We are not betrothed, Nicco,’ she reminded him, trying to keep her voice level so as not to attract the attention of the others.
&nb
sp; ‘Nicco.’ At the sound of his father’s voice, Nicco sprang away from her.
‘Father, how good of you to pay us a visit,’ he replied, resuming his professional manner. ‘See how productive I have been,’ he said, gesturing around the storeroom as though he had filled it single-handedly. ‘As you can see, the business is in good hands now and …’
‘I have merely been ill, Nicco, and I would remind you that this is still my business,’ Mr Neaple said curtly. ‘Now that I have recovered, you may show me exactly how many barrels are ready to be transported.’
As Nicco hurried to do his father’s bidding, Merry breathed a sigh of relief. Thank heavens for old Mr Neaple, she thought. Then saw the others nudging each other.
‘You won’t forget to remind Nicco about our St Peter’s Fair celebrations, will you?’ Tressa asked.
‘Yes, it’s getting close now,’ Marya added.
‘That’s if she can be bothered to remember her friends when she’s being wined and dined,’ Kelys sniffed.
‘Merry knows how to treat her friends,’ her mother said, appearing beside them. ‘Come along, Merry, I’ll be glad to get home and put my feet up. It seems to have been a long day and I’ve still got that last frock to finish before you see Mr Fairbright.’
Making their way outside, they could hear Mr Neaple having a heated discussion with his son.
‘He was no good, Father, so I sent him packing.’ Nicco’s voice rose as the old man frowned, running his hand over a newly finished barrel.
‘This looks like good craftsmanship to me, son.’
‘Trust me, Father, he was more trouble than he was worth. Glad to see the back of him, to be honest.’
Mr Neaple didn’t look convinced.
‘You have been overseeing the work and I would have expected more barrels packed by now.’
‘Come along, Merry,’ her mother said, giving her a nudge. They called good night to some of the workers who had clustered in a group just outside the entrance.
‘You mean he’s gone?’ Wyllow wailed.