by Linda Finlay
‘Have you come to collect something, Miss Dyer?’ Mrs Smale asked, a grin curling her lips.
‘Indeed I have, Mrs Smale.’
‘Well, do be quick about it; we have a business to run here.’
‘I know, so if you’d kindly hand me my cap I’ll put it on ready to serve,’ Merry said, giving the woman her brightest smile.
‘You mean you are staying?’ she spluttered.
‘Of course. I have a job to do,’ Merry replied, trying not to laugh as the woman gaped at her in amazement.
‘You mean Mr Fairbright didn’t … ? Then who … ? Oh, here,’ she said, all but throwing the grey cap at Merry.
Luckily the store began to fill up and there was no time for further questioning. Hastily affixing the cap over her coiled braid, Merry smiled at the woman who was waiting to be served.
‘How may I be of assistance, modam?’ Mrs Smale asked, adopting the hoity-toity voice she reserved for clients.
‘I hear you have lengths of material that can be made into dresses here in the store?’
‘We do indeed, modam. What had you in mind?’
‘Well, I have noticed the evenings are becoming chilly already so something in a warm fabric, I think.’
‘Perhaps you will show modam something suitable, Miss Dyer?’ the manageress said, her eyes glittering as she turned to Merry.
‘Of course, Mrs Smale,’ she answered, trying not to laugh as she opened the cupboard containing the pre-cut materials. ‘Would this be suitable, madam?’ she asked, displaying a length of dimity against her body as she’d been shown. ‘The woven texture gives it a warmer feel without being too heavy.’ She heard the manageress’s sharp intake of breath but, seeing the client’s interest was piqued, she couldn’t help adding, ‘The stripe adds a certain elegance, don’t you think?’
‘You know, it does,’ the woman nodded. ‘And how do I go about getting this made up into a dress?’
‘Thank you, Miss Dyer. I will attend to modam now. Our dressmaker is upstairs,’ Mrs Smale said, ushering the woman towards the corridor.
‘But you’ll need the matching thread as well,’ Merry began, but she was talking to thin air.
‘Do you think I should go after them?’ she asked Mrs Rose, who was hovering nearby.
‘Certainly not. How many times do we have to tell you that your job is to shadow? Besides, Mrs Smale will soon notice that you have been negligent,’ the woman sniffed.
‘What?’ Merry spluttered, but the woman was already attending to another client and had signalled Prunella to assist.
‘Do you think she sucks lemons in her spare time?’ Freckles asked, as she returned from the stockroom with a handful of lace-edged handkerchiefs. ‘Here, can you imagine blowing your nose on one of these dinky things?’
Merry smiled. It was hard to stay cross with her friend’s cheery banter.
‘I think they’re for show really.’
‘You should see the new stock they’ve just unloaded. There are more of those lengths of fur, and some of the gloves are edged with it as well. Wouldn’t mind a pair of them to keep me pinkies warm in the winter. Blimey, look at old Pru sucking up to Mrs Rose.’
Merry glanced over and saw that Prunella was smiling up at the woman and hanging on to her every word.
‘She’s probably trying to ensure her position is safe,’ Merry replied. Then, realizing what she’d said, she put her hand to her mouth.
‘So if hers is safe and yours is; that means it’s yours truly for the chop,’ Freckles sighed.
‘I hope not,’ Merry said, putting her hand on the girl’s arm.
‘Why did Fairbright ask you to stay behind …’
‘Miss Dyer, come here this instant.’ As the manageress’s voice cut across the room, Merry sighed.
‘Here we go. I’ll tell you at luncheon.’
‘Blimey oh rimey, am I glad to get this thing off,’ Freckles said, as she sank onto her chair in the staff-room. ‘Makes me feel like I’ve got nits,’ she added, scratching her head.
‘Not over my tablecloth, please, young lady,’ Joanie reprimanded as she hurried into the room with bowls of broth.
‘Sorry, Joanie,’ Freckles said, looking anything but. ‘That smells good.’
‘You got carrot and potato in that from me old man’s allotment. Proud as punch, he is, of his veggies. Cors, Mr Didcot pays a fair price. Where’s young Pru?’ she asked, looking at the empty chair.
‘I don’t know,’ Merry replied, exchanging a look with Freckles.
‘I’d better keep this warm then,’ the housekeeper sighed, bustling out of the room with the remaining bowl. Just then Prunella hurried into the room, shaking her head.
‘Mrs Rose has been summoned upstairs to Mr Fairbright’s office and Mrs Smale went marching up after her. In a right old state, they were. Oh, thank you, Joanie,’ she said, as the housekeeper placed her bowl on the table.
‘Seems to be a bit of a hoo-ha going on upstairs,’ she informed them. ‘Neither of them wanted their luncheon so if you girls want seconds let me know.’
‘You seemed mighty pally with old Rose earlier,’ Freckles said, turning to Prunella. ‘What was all that about?’
To their surprise the girl flushed and began sipping her broth with great concentration.
‘Secrets, eh?’ Freckles persisted. The girl shook her head, then carefully set down her spoon.
‘If you must know, she said I was doing extremely well and that if I shadowed her all day, pointing out the colours of the ribbons and cloth, she would ensure it was noted on my records.’
‘So she does have a problem,’ Freckles muttered.
Merry ran her fingers over her letter. She was dying to read it but realized this wasn’t the time. Sighing, she put it back in her pocket.
‘Come on, it’s time we went out to the yard. Heaven forbid Mrs Rose should find us with sticky fingers at inspection.’
It was Mrs Smale who was waiting for them. Her face was pinched, her lips a tight line.
‘I have to inform you that Mrs Rose has left us,’ she said. ‘Until a replacement is appointed, it will fall to me to inspect you.’
‘Why …’ Freckles began.
‘It is not your place to ask questions, Miss Brice. Although you can be sure I have made my feelings clear to Mr Fairbright. It is time to return to the shop floor,’ she added.
‘Blimey oh rimey, she must be in a state: she never even checked our hands!’ Freckles exclaimed.
With only four of them to attend to the clients, the afternoon passed in a whirl of serving and wrapping. It was only when Merry was undressing for bed and heard the crackle of paper in her pocket that she remembered the note from her mother. Taking it closer to the candle, she squinted at the familiar writing.
Dearest Merry,
I hope this letter finds you well. Mr Fairbright says you have the makings of a good assistant, which pleases us greatly. We are well here and have mastered that shell pattern of yours. Don’t know how you came up with that, but you always did have an eye for these things. Please know, daughter, we are very proud of you.
As you know, it is Grozen’s birthday next week and she would so like you to be with her – as would I, of course. Nicco has kindly offered to collect you next Sunday and bring you back to Porthsallos for the day. Mr Fairbright says that will be in order. We miss you and very much look forward to seeing you.
Forever your loving mother,
Karenza
Carefully she blew out the candle and climbed into bed. Staring up at the darkening sky through the little skylight, she couldn’t help letting out a heavy sigh. She’d been happy until she read the bit about Nicco collecting her. While it meant she would get to see her mother and Grozen again, would she never be free of him?
‘You all right old thing?’ Freckles whispered.
‘Yes,’ she whispered back.
‘Don’t know why we’re whispering,’ Freckles laughed, propping herself up on her elbow. �
�You can hear old Pru’s snores from the yard. Honestly, anything less ladylike I’ve yet to hear.’
Merry laughed back. Her friend was better than Grozen’s tonic tincture.
‘So why the sigh?’ Freckles persisted. ‘I thought you said your mother was inviting you to your grandmother’s party. Sounds fun to me.’
‘I thought so too until I read that Nicco is collecting me.’
‘What, that dark-haired hunk of a man? Coo, I wouldn’t say no. Mind you, Chester will be upset; he’s got his eye on you. Honestly, some gals have all the luck.’ This time it was Freckles who sighed.
Merry lay back on her pillow. Did it really matter if Nicco collected her? She could spend time with her grandmother and mother and then return here to the job she had come to love.
‘What a day,’ Freckles said, yawning loudly. ‘Still, old Rosey had to goesy; now all we have to do is sort out Smelly Smale. Here’s to new beginnings, eh, gal?’
‘Yes, to new beginnings,’ Merry replied.
CHAPTER 20
Despite her misgivings, Merry was pleased to see Nicco waiting outside the store on the following Sunday. She’d been so excited at the thought of returning home, she hadn’t slept a wink. Joanie had insisted she take some of her baking home with her, and Mr Fairbright had allowed her to purchase a gift for Grozen at a very reasonable rate. Carefully she handed her basket to Nicco before climbing up beside him.
‘Your transportation awaits, my lady,’ Nicco said, giving her his widest grin.
‘Thank you, Nicco. It’s good of you to come all this way to collect me, and in your best cart too.’
‘As I’ve said before, I’m looking after my future interests. Anyway, I persuaded Father to lend me it along with the fastest horse. Said we wouldn’t have time to get there and back otherwise,’ he grinned. ‘You’re looking well, Merry,’ he added, looking her up and down appraisingly, then frowning. ‘Where’s all your beautiful hair gone?’
‘I’ve clipped it back into a chignon. It’s all here under my bonnet,’ she laughed, patting the knot on the nape of her neck.
‘Well, I prefer it when you wear it flowing down your back, and I don’t like seeing you in that grey cap thing either,’ he grunted, carefully negotiating his way through the Sunday traffic. She was about to mention she had to tie it back under her uniform cap, then thought better of it. He would only moan.
Instead she settled back in her seat and looked around. Already they were passing the theatre, going in the same direction as when they’d ridden out to the Green. However, this time, rather than turning towards the sea, he carried straight on and crossed in front of the railway station, then on behind the wet basin full of boats, which were today quietly moored against the quays. On the other side of the street, set well back, there was a formidable grey stone building in its own grounds.
‘That’s one of the hospitals,’ said Nicco.
‘How many do they need?’ asked Merry, staring at the huge building in amazement.
‘There is a main one further inland, but that one’s reserved for the navy.’
Already they had moved on, though, and were now coming up to a junction. As Nicco turned right, Merry could see an inlet to the sea, with a tall-masted black-hulled ship anchored in the Sound, and a grey hulk abandoned on the beach nearby. They came to another junction and this time turned left.
‘This is Halfpenny Bridge and that is Devonport,’ announced Merry excitedly, ready to tell him about her trip on the tram.
‘Yes, I know that,’ said Nicco, waving his hand dismissively. ‘More importantly we’re nearly at the ferry.’
As he clearly wasn’t interested in how Merry had come to know the names of the landmarks, she sat back in her seat. If he wanted to be Mr Know-All then so be it.
They made their way onto the ferry in silence but as the chains rattled and it began its journey across the water, Merry felt her excitement mounting. Home, home, home, they seemed to clank. It was wonderful to feel the breeze on her face after being cooped up indoors. So much had happened in the past few weeks she felt like a different person from the one who’d left Porthsallos.
‘Farthing for them?’ Nicco offered.
She shook her head. ‘I was just wondering where the past weeks have gone. It seems ages since I left.’
‘It is, and you missed the St Peter’s Fair,’ he grunted. ‘The girls were right peeved not to have our betrothal to add to the celebrations. Just wait until next year, I promised them,’ he added, looking at her meaningfully.
‘Nicco …’ she began, but the ferryman appeared beside the cart asking for their fare and he turned away. Just get through the day, she told herself.
As Nicco had the larger cart, they took the higher road to Porthsallos. Staring at the vast expanse of moors gleaming like gold in the distance Merry was reminded of her earlier journey with Otto. His quiet reassurance had given her confidence and she wondered how he was doing. Sighing, she stared at the rows of trees they were passing, hardly able to believe the leaves were already turning russet and orange.
‘Your mother’s been cleaning and cooking like crazy,’ Nicco said, breaking into her thoughts. ‘Anyone would think you were coming home to stay.’ He turned and gave her one of his intense looks.
‘Well, I’m not,’ she replied.
‘Yet,’ he added.
She clenched her hands to stop herself from rising to the bait.
‘How are things at the pallace?’ she asked, changing the subject.
‘Well, of course we’re still very busy with the pilchards. I’ve suggested some new ideas to speed up the operation but Father’s seen fit to resist them. Still, he’ll retire soon and then I can run it as I wish. Life’s moving on and we’ll be in danger of falling behind if we don’t take some short cuts.’
Merry frowned, not liking the sound of that.
‘Are all the girls well?’ she asked, her heart lifting at the thought of seeing her friends again.
He nodded. ‘They’ve plenty of work to keep them busy and put money in their pockets. That Fairbright man’s paying them a fair rate for their knitting as well so, all in all, everyone’s content. Well, apart from Kelys, who’s got her stitches knotted ’cos he’s put your mother in charge.’ Merry remembered Mr Fairbright remarking on her mother’s capabilities. Her gentle mother taking charge of the knitting ladies seemed as likely to Merry as she herself being made manageress of Didcot and Fairbright. She opened her mouth to say as much but Nicco was still carrying on with his tale.
‘As for them do-good teetotallers, they only want to turn our inns into temperance establishments. You can imagine what the fishermen think of that. I mean, if a man can’t have a pint of ale after he’s been grafting at sea then what’s the world coming to?’
Not being in the least bit interested in ale, Merry was happy to let him witter on, and as the landscape became familiar, her excitement mounted. Then, almost before she knew it, they were at the turning for Porthsallos and beginning their descent. Already she could see the loom over the harbour, smell the familiar tang of tar and fish, hear the screech of the gulls.
‘If you wait while I see to the horse, I’ll walk to your cottage with you,’ Nicco offered, drawing to a halt by the mill.
‘Sorry, Nicco, I’m too impatient to wait. Besides, I want to see my folks first,’ she said, jumping down. ‘Thanks for the lift. No doubt you will be popping in to give Grozen your birthday wishes and have a piece of cake?’
‘I will that, so make sure you save me some,’ he said, handing down her basket.
Merry all but flew down the almost deserted lane. This being the Sabbath, the women were indoors preparing their luncheon. She hoped she’d see them later when they gathered in their usual spot to knit and chat.
‘Look what the wind’s blown in.’
Merry turned to see Kelys glaring at her from her front doorstep.
‘Good morning, Kelys,’ she replied, ignoring the woman’s hostile manner. ‘How ar
e you?’
‘I was fine until your mother got ideas above her station. ’Twill be where you get it from.’
‘But …’ Merry began, but Kelys had stamped indoors, slamming the door behind her.
Remembering Kelys’s sharp tongue, Merry ignored the woman’s outburst. Turning, she stared around the harbour where the fishing boats were all tied up for the day, for no self-respecting fisherman would risk incurring the wrath of God by putting out to sea on the Sabbath. No doubt they would all be in one of the alehouses supping their pints while they waited for their midday meal. Automatically, she glanced up at the house on the cliff and smiled. It was hard to believe she’d actually spoken to the elegant Lady Sutherland, whom she’d long admired. Turning into the warren, she heard a squeal of delight and her heart skipped when she saw her mother waiting in the doorway.
‘Here she is, Mother,’ Karenza cried, throwing her arms around Merry and hugging her tightly. Enveloped in her mother’s warmth, Merry had to blink back the tears that sprang to her eyes.
‘Well, aren’t I allowed in?’ she asked finally.
‘Of course,’ he mother laughed, reluctantly letting her go.
‘Well, look what the tide’s brought in,’ Grozen called from her chair.
‘Oh, it’s so good to see you,’ Merry cried, flying across the room and kissing the woman’s papery cheek. ‘Birthdays greetings for tomorrow, Grozen,’ she added.
‘No need to remind me I’ll be a year older, I’m sure,’ her grandmother grumbled, but the warmth in her eyes belied her blunt words.
Merry sniffed the savoury aroma that was filling the little room appreciatively. ‘Something smells good. That reminds me, Joanie, the housekeeper, sent some of her baking for you both,’ she said, lifting the cloth from her basket and drawing out an iced fruitcake on a plate, and ginger biscuits wrapped in greased paper.
‘My, my,’ Grozen gasped. ‘No wonder you’ve filled out, our Merryn, if you’ve been eating rich food like that.’ Merry stared down at her Sunday dress, which was straining at the seams, and grimaced.