The Sea Shell Girl

by Linda Finlay

‘Thank you, Mother. And how is life in Porthsallos? Mr Fairbright said he was pleased with the way the knitting sales have taken off in the store, especially with the cold weather we’ve had.’

  ‘Yes, he’s a fair man and the ladies in the village like dealing with him,’ her mother agreed.

  ‘Think he’s taken a shine to our Karenza, though,’ Grozen chuckled. ‘Always knocking on the door, needing to consult her for this and that.’

  ‘Now then, Mother, that’s rubbish. Besides, I gave up that kind of thing long ago.’

  ‘More fool you,’ the old woman muttered. ‘Anyhow, talking of people knocking on the door, Nicco has been very good at keeping us informed of your progress, our Merry. He’s the son of the owner of the pilchard-preserving factory at the pallace,’ she said, turning to Carey. ‘He’s a lovely man and a good catch, if Merry would but see it.’

  Carey smiled politely then quirked a brow at Merry.

  ‘Grozen, please,’ Merry muttered.

  ‘We’ve invited Nicco for tea this afternoon,’ Karenza said, looking meaningfully at Merry. Her heart sank. Would they never give up? ‘I hope that is all right with you, Carey,’ she added.

  ‘I’ll look forward to meeting him,’ Carey replied politely.

  Grozen chuckled. ‘Sizing up the competition eh?’

  ‘Meeting it head on, I think.’

  At this Grozen burst out laughing.

  ‘I’m sure Carey would prefer to hear about the fishermen and their boats, him being in the Royal Navy.’

  ‘Oh, you’re a rating?’ Grozen said, turning to Carey.

  ‘Actually …’ Merry began, but Karenza got to her feet.

  ‘I think luncheon is cooked,’ she said. As she bent to lift the pot from the fire the stone of her necklace reflected in the flames, jogging Merry’s memory. Before she could say anything, though, Grozen turned to Carey.

  ‘Good. I’m starving. We only get a decent meal when we have visitors.’

  ‘Mother, that’s a lie and you know it. Now if you’d like to come to the table, I’ll dish.’

  ‘It smells delicious, Mrs Dyer,’ Carey said, turning his chair to face the table. ‘May I assist you in any way?’

  ‘Thank you but no. Do make yourself comfortable, Carey,’ she invited.

  ‘Would you think me rude if I removed my jacket?’ he asked politely. ‘Your wonderful log fire has made me quite warm.’

  Grozen smiled as she eased herself into her chair. ‘Said wood was best. Go ahead, lad. We don’t stand on ceremony here. I suppose being a sailor you’d like a beer, but I’m afraid we’ve only elderflower cordial.’

  ‘Elderflower would be lovely, thank you. I’m not much of an ale man myself. Mind you, I do hear that it is quite palatable if you sprinkle it with a pinch of ground ginger.’

  ‘Really? I’ll have to try that,’ she chuckled.

  ‘Merry, perhaps you would pass round the plates,’ Karenza said.

  Merry stared down at the chicken with its roasted skin, carrots and baked potatoes and grinned. ‘My favourite meal. Thank you, Mother.’

  ‘Cors, chicken’s always better with them skinny sausages, but the pigs’ tails aren’t long enough yet,’ Grozen said to Carey.

  ‘Nor the ears large enough for silk purses, I suppose,’ he replied.

  Grozen hooted.

  ‘Really, Mother, I don’t know what’s got in to you today,’ Karenza tutted. ‘I’m sure Carey is not interested in your drivel. Would you like gravy?’ she asked looking over at him.

  ‘Oh …’

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Merry asked, for her mother had gone quite pale and seemed to be staring at Carey’s jumper.

  ‘No, of course not,’ Karenza replied, absent-mindedly twiddling with her necklace, then tucking it inside her blouse. ‘Do begin, Carey,’ she muttered, looking quickly down at her plate. The room fell silent apart from the scrape of cutlery as they tucked into their meal.

  ‘This is absolutely delicious, Mrs Dyer,’ Carey said a short time later.

  When there was no reply, Merry looked at her normally polite mother in surprise. However, she appeared to be making a great study of Carey’s jumper again.

  ‘Mother!’ she remonstrated. ‘Carey was talking to you.’

  ‘Sorry. Tell us a bit about yourself, won’t you?’ Karenza smiled, but her eyes remained serious. ‘I believe Merry said you were in the navy.’

  ‘He’s a lieutenant, Mother. Lieutenant Meredith,’ Merry said proudly.

  ‘Meredith? That has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it, Karenza?’ Grozen said, staring meaningfully at her daughter.

  ‘Where do you hail from, Lieutenant Meredith?’ Karenza asked.

  ‘Carey, please. My home is just on the other side of the Tamar.’

  ‘His house actually looks out over it,’ Merry said excitedly.

  Karenza’s fork clattered to her plate as she gave up all pretence of eating.

  ‘Now what’s wrong?’ Merry asked. But her mother ignored her and continued staring at Carey.

  ‘Where did you get that knit frock?’ she persisted.

  Carey frowned down at his jumper. ‘It was my father’s. Well, my …’

  ‘Will you raise your arms, please?’ Karenza asked.

  ‘Mother, we are eating,’ Merry protested.

  ‘No, it’s all right,’ Carey reassured her, carefully putting down his cutlery and lifting his arms.

  ‘Thank you,’ Karenza whispered, and Merry noticed she’d gone as white as the milk in the jug. ‘And your father’s Christian name was … ?’

  ‘Clayton. The thing is, Mrs Dyer …’ he began, but Karenza jumped to her feet and began collecting their plates. ‘Please, Mrs Dyer, I’d be obliged if you would just listen,’ Carey pleaded, but Karenza was noisily stacking the crockery on the side.

  Merry glanced at Carey in dismay. He shrugged but was looking uncomfortable.

  ‘If we’ve all finished, I’ll get our pudding, shall I?’ Grozen said, breaking the awkward silence as she got to her feet.

  Bemused, Merry nodded, then noticed the woman pat Karenza’s shoulder as she passed. What was going on?

  ‘Spiced apples with thunder and lightning,’ Grozen announced with forced jollity as she placed the dishes on the table.

  ‘Spiced apples, what a treat, though I can’t say I’ve ever eaten thunder and lightning before,’ Carey laughed, trying to match her mood.

  ‘Well, hailing from Devonshire, you wouldn’t have. This is our speciality round here. Cream mixed with treacle. Of course, some have it with honey but treacle’s our way,’ the woman explained with a smile, but Merry noticed it didn’t reach her eyes.

  ‘Are you all right, Mrs Dyer? You’re looking quite pale,’ Carey asked, frowning as Karenza returned to her seat.

  ‘Lieutenant Meredith, what exactly are your intentions towards my daughter?’ she asked, her usually soft voice hard as the rocks on the beach. ‘It is a game for men of your standing to toy with the affections of lowly shop assistants and housemaids, is it not?’

  ‘Mother,’ Merry cried in dismay.

  Carey, who had been about to tuck into his pudding, carefully laid down his spoon.

  ‘Believe you me, Mrs Dyer, I am not someone who toys with anyone’s affections, least of all someone as wonderful as Merryn. She is a charming, intelligent young lady and my feelings for her are totally sincere. In fact, if she will have me, I would deem it an honour to make her my wife,’ Carey replied, staring across the table at Merry. Seeing his ardent expression, her heart flipped. She opened her mouth to reply, but surprise had rendered her speechless.

  ‘That’s completely out of the question, Lieutenant. Merry is far too young to be thinking of marriage,’ Karenza said in clipped tones.

  ‘That’s not what you said to Nicco,’ Merry protested. ‘I am eighteen years old and …’

  ‘And far too young to know your own mind,’ Karenza snapped.

  ‘Please, Mrs Dyer,’ Carey said holding up his
hand. ‘It wasn’t my intention to discuss such a delicate subject at the meal table. However, like Merryn, I believe in speaking the truth. I appreciate she is young in years but I love her and promise to care for her until death us do part, as they say.’

  Merry’s heart leaped and she held her breath, but her mother merely tightened her lips.

  ‘Perhaps you would agree to our becoming betrothed with the idea of marrying in, say, two or three years’ time?’ he asked, looking hopefully at Karenza.

  ‘No, Lieutenant. As I said, it is quite out of the question. Now if you’ll excuse me, I feel a headache coming on.’ They watched in dismay as Karenza rushed up the stairs.

  ‘Grozen?’ Merry asked, looking across at her grandmother.

  ‘You heard your mother. There is nothing more to say,’ the old woman whispered sadly, hobbling over to her chair beside the fire.

  ‘What’s wrong with the pair of you? It’s like you’ve become different people,’ Merry cried, jumping up and throwing her shawl around her shoulders. ‘Come along, Carey, it seems we are no longer welcome here.’

  CHAPTER 35

  How dare they treat her like a child, Merry fumed, stamping her way up the hill. Carey followed, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. As soon as the door to the carriage closed behind them, he reached out and took her hand.

  ‘Don’t take on so, Merryn. It was probably the shock. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. I didn’t mean it …’

  ‘So Mother was right, you don’t want to marry me,’ she whispered, tears welling as anger turned to hurt.

  ‘Oh, Merryn, don’t cry, please,’ he said, passing her a crisp white handkerchief. ‘Of course I want to marry you. You mean the world to me. I was just saying that I hadn’t intended mentioning marriage on my first visit to your family.’

  ‘Oh,’ Merry whispered, mollified by his assurance. ‘I’ve never known Mother be so rude. Normally she’s mild and understanding, and she’s always been a stickler for telling the truth. I guess she’s upset because she wants me to marry Nicco and stay in the village.’

  ‘But do you want to marry him?’ he asked, staring at her closely.

  Merry shook her head. ‘It’s you I love,’ she whispered.

  He grinned and gripped her hand tighter. ‘That’s a relief, for you had me worried there for a moment. We’ll come back and see your mother next weekend. By then, she’ll have had a chance to think things over and we can discuss them properly.’

  Merry smiled at him. ‘It might be better leaving it for two or three weeks. Mother doesn’t often get riled but when she does it takes her for ever to calm down.’

  ‘My leave will be up by then, I’m afraid. I had planned to spend the time with you so we could really get to know each other before I whisked you off for a romantic candlelit dinner and proposed properly, but your mother pre-empted that,’ he said. He stared out of the window, seemingly lost in thought. ‘You do want to marry me, I take it?’ he asked, turning suddenly.

  As he gazed at her intently his eyes bright with emotion, she felt the tightness in her chest begin to ease.

  ‘Of course I do,’ she whispered, knowing with absolute certainty he was the man of her dreams. Then a thought struck her. ‘By the way, what was it you kept trying to tell Mother?’

  ‘That Meredith is my given name. I was adopted, you see. Obviously I had intended telling you first, but your mother looked so shocked when she heard my name. Then she began firing those questions at me and I wanted to be totally honest. However, she …’

  ‘Never gave you the chance. It doesn’t make one jot of difference to anything, though, does it?’ she smiled, for he could have been called Mr Mud for all she cared. ‘What about Saphira – is she adopted too?’

  Carey shook his head. ‘Apparently Mother was a delicate child and thought she’d never be able to bear children of her own. Then a few years after they’d given me a home she found she was expecting Saphira. She always treated us equally, though.’

  ‘What about your father?’

  ‘He was away a lot,’ he said quickly. ‘Ah, here we are at the ferry,’ he added, seemingly grateful for the distraction.

  As they made their way across the water he pointed towards the dockyard. ‘See the black ship with the two funnels and three masts?’ When she nodded, he went on, ‘That’s being victualled for our next trip.’

  The thought of his going away again in the near future made Merry feel empty. She was so lost in thought that it seemed no time at all before they were back outside the store.

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s a chance you could request some time off between now and next Sunday?’ he asked.

  ‘Not really. With it being nearly Mothering Sunday, Mr Fairbright is planning to keep the store open longer this Wednesday,’ Merry replied. ‘He says it will give the servants the opportunity to choose materials and trimmings for themselves when they call to collect their employers’ purchases.’

  ‘Will servants be able to afford that kind of thing?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, maybe not the part-made garments or services of the dressmaker, but we do have some lovely materials and trimmings at reasonable prices. The girls will want to look their best when they go home, and are used to making their own clothes, after all.’

  ‘Well, you always look lovely and we can take your mother and Grozen some fresh blooms, if you like. Shall I get Fingers to make up another tussie-mussie?’

  ‘Mother really loves violets,’ she said.

  ‘Then that is what she shall have. In the meantime, I shall spend all next week thinking of you,’ he whispered, leaning forward and kissing her cheek. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll talk your mother round.’

  Hearing the sincerity in his voice, she smiled. ‘I’m sure you will,’ she replied, her spirits lifting.

  From the moment the doors were opened the next morning, clients descended on the store requesting to see fabrics and part-made garments of a lighter weight. There was also a demand for new bonnets and trimmings for older ones, so that by the afternoon Merry had lost track of the number of women she’d served. The prospect of spring was definitely in the air, she thought, holding up a swathe of frothy voile to show a woman of middle years.

  ‘Do you think this would be too young for me?’ the customer asked.

  Merry looked at the fair-haired woman and shook her head. ‘I think the butter colour would enhance madam’s colouring beautifully,’ she assured her. ‘And we have ribbon in a deeper yellow if you wish to trim your bonnet to match.’

  ‘Wonderful,’ the woman clapped her hands. ‘My daughter is getting married this summer and I am holding a garden party in order for her betrothed’s family to meet ours. He’s a wonderful man.’

  ‘You must be very happy,’ Merry replied, wishing her mother had showed the same enthusiasm. ‘Would you like me to have these wrapped and put these aside for carriage collection?’

  ‘Yes, please, my dear.’

  As the woman made her way from the store, Merry couldn’t help wondering again about her mother’s reaction. She had spent the night mulling over everything that had been said and come to the conclusion it had been because her mother wanted Merry to live in the village. They’d always been so close but she knew ultimately her mother only wanted her happiness.

  ‘I’d like to see some of your part-made garments. Blue is my preferred choice,’ a thin-faced woman with a querulous voice demanded.

  ‘Certainly, madam,’ Merry said. This woman was harder to please, though, and dithered between three choices.

  ‘I think I’d like to see the first one again.’

  ‘Certainly, madam.’ Merry forced a smile as she retrieved the length of pre-cut material in sky blue from behind the counter and held it up. Whilst the woman hesitated, Merry thought back to Carey’s surprise proposal. If her mother agreed, would he be happy to marry in her local church? They would have to ensure they had bread or cake for the kimbly. Village tradition decreed that the bride’s father w
alked alone to the church giving a piece of this to the first person he met. Not that she had a father, of course, but perhaps Pucky Pint or another fisherman could be persuaded to do the honours. It would be such fun to bring her mother here so they could look at material together.

  ‘I think I’ll leave it, thank you,’ the woman’s strident voice broke into her thoughts.

  ‘Of course, madam,’ Merry said, suppressing a sigh. Some people were spoiled for choice. Given half a chance she’d happily take any of the lengths.

  She began tidying away the materials and couldn’t resist running her fingers over the soft voiles. Smiling, she imagined herself dressed in the delicate material.

  ‘Blimey oh rimey, girl, you’re looking mighty happy,’ Freckles cried as she went past on her way to the dressing room. ‘Lover boy give you a good time yesterday, did he?’

  Merry nodded, then turned back to her tidying, wanting to keep Carey’s proposal to herself a while longer.

  ‘Mr Fairbright wants to see you in his office right away,’ Mrs Smale said, appearing by her side.

  Merry looked at the woman in surprise. Since she’d removed to the office upstairs she had never ventured back onto the shop floor.

  ‘Is anything wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘Just hurry along, I’ll explain to Mrs Winter,’ Mrs Smale urged, looking at her with such sympathy, she felt a prickle of unease shiver up her spine as she hurried up the stairs.

  Mr Fairbright was standing just inside the door, a constable by his side. They were both looking so grave that Merry’s heart lurched.

  ‘Miss Dyer, please come and take a seat,’ Mr Fairbright said. ‘I’m afraid I have some dreadful news. It would seem that somehow … that …’ Unable to continue, he looked at the constable, who cleared his throat.

  ‘A woman’s body was found on the beach just outside Porthsallos this morning. We have reason to believe she was your mother …’

  Merry swayed in her seat, unable to take in what he said.

  ‘Drink this,’ said Mr Fairbright, holding out a glass. Merry obeyed, then spluttered as the fiery liquid burned her throat. ‘Brandy for shock,’ he added.

  ‘Was my mother?’ she croaked, hoping she’d misunderstood.