by Evie Grace
‘Emily and I are to be married within three weeks.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘She hasn’t told you?’
Catherine shook her head.
‘We’ll be moving to Faversham together as husband and wife.’
‘I wish you every happiness, Stephen.’ Was it really love that he could turn it round so quickly and court Emily? That wasn’t the kind of affection she sought and not what she wanted for her close friend. Her instinct was to protect her as she’d always done since the moment Emily had first slipped her hand into hers at dame school when she’d been overwhelmed by the presence of the older children. ‘It seems rather sudden.’
He shrugged. ‘I can’t live like a monk for all my life. I need a wife at my side, someone to help me at the forge, to work in the house and keep the bed warm at night. Emily is a pretty, sweet and capable village girl. She is fond of me. And she will do very well. She will have rule of her own domain and be free from her bullying mother. I will give her everything she could ever want or need. We are going to be happy together. I’m determined.’ He paused. ‘Some of us can’t afford to have such scruples as you. We make the most of what we can have. Emily is a good match for me.’
‘Well, I am glad,’ she said. ‘Truly.’
‘Good afternoon, Catherine,’ he said. ‘I may call you Catherine, as I have every expectation that before very long we will be brother and sister by marriage.’
She bade him goodbye and went straight to the mill, where she knocked on the door of the cottage which adjoined the bakehouse.
‘Come in,’ Emily called.
Catherine stepped inside, relieved to find that Mrs Millichip appeared to be out.
‘I’m in here,’ Emily added and Catherine followed the sound of her voice into the kitchen. She coughed as the scent of burning caught her by the throat.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
‘I’m cooking supper.’ Emily, who was wearing an apron over her clothes, pointed her ladle towards a pan that stood on a brand-new metal rack on the table with its contents bubbling over the rim. ‘I’m hoping that I can retrieve it.’
‘I’m afraid that it’s too late for that.’ Catherine took the ladle and gave the stew a stir, bringing blackened carrots and mutton to the top. ‘That’s hardly fit for the pigs.’
‘When we are married, my husband and I will be forced to live on bread and cheese.’
‘You mean Stephen?’
‘Oh! How do you know?’
‘He told me.’
Emily frowned. ‘I wanted to tell you myself. Never mind. I wanted to call on you, but Ma insisted that I finished the chores first.’ She wiped her hands on her apron. ‘It’s the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. Stephen came to see my father this morning, and he said yes, without hesitation. Stephen is the most suitable man. I couldn’t have imagined making a better match.’
‘I’m delighted for you both,’ Catherine said, unsure how to proceed. Looking at dear Emily’s face, brimming with joy, she didn’t know if she could bring herself to mention Stephen’s pursuit of another.
Suddenly, Emily burst into laughter.
‘Oh dear, I’m going to be a useless wife, aren’t I? He will have so much cheese, he will end up squeaking like a mouse.’ She became serious once more. ‘Ma’s going to beat me for this when she gets back.’
‘Let’s see if we can fix it before she returns,’ Catherine said. ‘I can show you how to make a pie from one of Ma’s recipes.’
‘Would you? I can bake bread blindfold, but anything else is beyond me.’
‘Have you any flour? And meat and onions?’
Emily went to the larder, took a bowl of flour from the bag and two onions.
‘There is meat.’ She brought out a pair of rabbits. ‘I’m not sure how to skin them.’
‘It’s simple. I’ll show you.’ Catherine had skinned them before under Pa’s watchful eye. She butchered them and chopped up the meat while Emily sliced the onions.
‘You don’t seem all that happy for me,’ she said, wiping one eye.
‘Of course I am. Now, tip those onions in with the meat and get on with the pastry.’ Catherine told her what proportions of lard and flour to use.
‘Has Matty spoken of marriage yet?’ Emily went on.
‘Not yet.’
‘How can you be so patient?’
‘All in good time.’
‘Do your parents know that you’re walking out with him?’
‘Pa approves, but Ma will never give us her blessing. She’s a mean-spirited bigot.’
‘Isn’t it a mother’s duty to disapprove of her daughter’s choice of match? My ma wasn’t enamoured of Stephen until he offered to repair her locket and chain.’ Emily peered into the bowl where she was rubbing the fat into the flour to make a crumb. ‘What’s next?’
‘Add water. Not too much,’ Catherine warned. ‘You can use a knife to pull the crumbs and water together to make a dough, but don’t overwork it, or you’ll end up breaking your teeth on it.’
Emily rolled out the dough and placed it in a dish. Catherine blind-baked it before showing her how to fill the pastry case with the meat and onion mixture and arrange a lid of pastry on top.
‘You have to flute the edges to stop the juices bubbling out. Wait a minute,’ Catherine said as Emily put the pie in the oven. ‘You haven’t made any holes in the top to let out the steam.’
Emily put the pie back on the table, and under Catherine’s guidance, she pierced the lid and turned the pastry trimmings into leaf shapes to put on the top.
‘Waste not, want not,’ Catherine said, watching her finish the pastry with a wash of egg and milk. ‘That looks perfect.’
Emily returned the pie to the oven and Catherine helped her clear up the pots and pans as the kitchen filled with the mouth-watering aroma of meat pie.
‘I can’t believe I made that. Stephen will be delighted when I bake it for him in the future. When we have a home of our own, I’ll keep house and he’ll make new things for it. Look at the rack on the table – he made that.’ She paused, a beatific smile on her face, before going on, ‘With his own hands. He is a craftsman of the highest order.’
She hardly stopped praising her betrothed while Catherine tormented herself with the question of what to do. The guilt of keeping her secret from her friend was threatening to burst from her lips like the steam that rushed out of the slits in the pastry lid when she took the pie from the oven a little later.
She could hear Matty whispering in one ear, ‘Keep quiet: least said, soonest mended,’ but the voice of her conscience was strident. She knew only too well that a secret was like a stash of gunpowder, quiescent and harmless until something, a stray comment or a spark of suspicion, ignited it. If it should unexpectedly explode in the future when Emily was already married, it could cause untold injury and hurt, whereas now, she would have the option of breaking her engagement, no matter how painful it would turn out to be.
‘Emily, are you sure that Stephen loves you?’ she began.
‘Of course. Only yesterday he brought me a horseshoe that he’d decorated with flowers.’ She smiled. ‘What on earth makes you say that?’
It was now or never, Catherine thought.
‘Not so long ago, he professed his love to me.’
Emily stared at her.
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘I’m sorry, but it’s true.’
‘Why are you trying to spoil this for me?’
‘I’m not. I want you to be sure about what you’re getting in to.’
‘I don’t understand. Oh, it’s because you’re jealous because Matty will never make all that much of himself compared with Stephen.’ Emily’s eyes flashed with anger.
‘He asked me to walk out with him,’ Catherine went on stubbornly.
‘When?’
‘It was when we were hop picking. That’s why Stephen and Matty got into that fight.’
‘They were scrapping over you?’
Catherine nodded. ‘Stephen asked me again when he was celebrating the end of his apprenticeship at the forge.’
‘If that’s really so, why didn’t you tell me before?’
‘You and Stephen getting together – it’s all been such a rush, and I was scared of hurting your feelings—’
‘So you thought you’d enlighten me after I’ve gone and agreed to marry him,’ Emily cut in.
‘It isn’t too late. You can break an engagement, but it’s almost impossible to unpick a marriage.’
‘How can you suggest that I give up the one thing that is precious to me? How can you ruin it like this?’ Emily started to cry. ‘I thought you were my friend. Why would you do this to me?’
Catherine’s blood ran cold. Stupidly, she hadn’t anticipated the intensity of Emily’s response. How would she feel if the boot was on the other foot?
‘No matter how much you try to poison me against him, I will not change my mind. Whether Stephen loves me or not, I can’t afford to have principles. Neither can you, for that matter.’
‘I’ll do anything to hold true to my beliefs,’ Catherine insisted.
‘I can see that. You’ve shown yourself quite prepared to break up a friendship with your thoughtless, cruel words. What would it have cost you to keep quiet?’
Catherine felt herself wilting under Emily’s gaze. She hardly recognised her. Where was the downtrodden Miss Millichip? Her confidence seemed to have soared since she’d accepted Stephen’s proposal. She knew exactly what she wanted and where she was going.
Catherine’s chest was tight. She could hardly breathe as Emily continued, ‘I have no wish to see you or speak with you again.’
‘Please, don’t say that,’ Catherine begged. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m sorry too, sorrier than you’ll ever know, but I can no longer be friends with you. You have planted the seed of suspicion in my heart and I will always see you as a danger to my betrothed’s constancy. I insist that you leave immediately.’
‘But, Emily—’
‘Go!’ She pushed her towards the door. Catherine tripped over the step and into the cold. She looked back through a skein of tears, but Emily had gone, slamming the door firmly on their friendship.
She had done the right thing, or so she thought, but had it been worth it?
Catherine tried to see Emily again on several occasions, but she made excuses not to see her, and turned her back on her in the street.
The Rooks were invited to the wedding, which was held a month later. Catherine offered to stay at home with John so that she could avoid any awkwardness, but Ma insisted that one of the labourers and his wife would sit with her brother while they attended the church and the celebration at the mill afterwards.
‘I have no wish to go,’ she told Matty when he arrived at the farm to walk with her to the church on the morning of the wedding. He looked well in his clean shirt, patched trousers and polished boots.
He held out his arm and kissed her cheek.
‘You must be there for Stephen’s sake, if not for Emily’s. Besides, I want you nearby. I’m my brother’s best man as Jervis isn’t here.’
‘Where is your ma? I thought she might be with you.’
‘She can’t leave the house any longer – people stare at her when she’s out. She was crying when I left – her spirit is willing, but her flesh is weak.’
‘I’m sorry. Perhaps I should call on her.’
‘She’d like that very much,’ Matty said. ‘She can’t wait to hear about the wedding, what the bride was wearing and who was there.’
As they walked along the road, he reached across into the garden outside Mill Cottage and plucked some sprigs of laurel and holly, making a nosegay of them. He handed it to her.
‘For you, my love.’
‘You shouldn’t have,’ she said with a rueful sigh. ‘These don’t belong to you. They aren’t yours to give.’
‘They belong to you now,’ he said. ‘The Millichips won’t even notice they’re gone.’
Catherine forgave him. The sun was shining, the church bells were pealing and she was with the man she hoped to spend the rest of her life with. All he had to do was ask.
When they reached the church, she went inside, leaving him to wait on the step for the groom.
‘Have you been dilly-dallying?’ Ma said as she took her place in the pew.
‘Leave her alone,’ Pa said.
‘Look at all these leaves and ribbons,’ Ma went on, pointing out the decorations along the aisle. ‘Anyone would think that the Millichips were made of money.’
‘It’s their special day. Don’t spoil it, Margaret,’ Pa said.
‘Hush,’ Mr Nobbs said from behind them. ‘Here’s the groom.’
They turned to watch Stephen walking towards them, his face pale against his new frock coat. Catherine had to smile because it was far too big for him, as though he’d bought it to grow in to. Matty stood alongside him and fidgeted as they waited for the bride.
‘The wait would be made more enjoyable with some moosic,’ George Carter said as he joined his sons.
‘Please, let us not forget that this is a day of celebration, and no time to visit past disagreements,’ the vicar said. ‘We’re considering the purchase of an organ. The outlay will be considerable, but the cost of maintenance far less than keeping the old choir.’ He looked past George. ‘Here comes the bride.’
Catherine turned to see Emily, who was dressed in a veil and a yellow dress with lace trimmings, walk past her without a glance. Her heart sank – she was still angry with her.
Reverend Browning officiated and the ceremony went smoothly until Matty fumbled for the ring. There was a collective sigh of relief as he found it deep in one of his pockets along with a coin and a piece of string. He handed it to Stephen, who slipped it onto Emily’s finger. The couple signed the register and they walked out of the church as husband and wife, looking neither to the left nor the right for good luck.
The congregation followed. Catherine waited for Matty to pay the vicar for his services before they called at Mill Cottage for refreshments. They approached Emily who was seated with Stephen in the corner of the main room, receiving the guests.
Catherine held out her hand, but Emily didn’t take it.
‘Congratulations to you both,’ she said, her eyes flicking from her old friend to Stephen and back. He dropped his gaze. ‘I wish you all the happiness in the world.’
‘Thank you, Miss Rook,’ Stephen said. ‘My wife and I are most grateful that you could join us. Aren’t we, Emily, my love?’
‘Not particularly. I would rather not be reminded of—’ She stopped abruptly.
‘I shouldn’t have come.’ Catherine took a step back and turned away, her face burning as Matty slipped his arm around her shoulder and led her outside.
‘She will never forgive me,’ she said.
‘She will, given time. It’s too fresh in her mind.’
‘Look, you go back and celebrate with your brother. I’ll go and see your ma on my way home.’
‘If you’re sure,’ he said.
She nodded.
‘I’ll call upon you later. Perhaps your parents will retire early so we can sit up.’
‘We can always hope.’ She smiled at the thought as she headed back to the farm, making a detour to Toad’s Bottom Cottage. The gate was open, half-dropped from its hinges, the path was slippery with fallen leaves and someone had boarded up one of the windows. One of the younger Carter boys walked around the corner of the house with a brown rabbit tucked under his arm. His sister accompanied him, her skirts wet with mud.
‘What do you want?’ the girl said.
‘I’ve come to call on your mother.’
‘Go on indoors. She’s in the kitchen.’
‘Thank you.’ Catherine pushed the door open, scraping it across the doorstep. She stepped into the dark, damp, cold interior and found her way to
where Ma Carter was lying on a mattress on the floor in front of the fireplace where the frail skeleton of a log sat in the ashes. ‘Good afternoon,’ she said. ‘How are you?’
‘You find me about the same as yesterday and a little worse than the day before.’ Ma Carter tried to sit herself up. Catherine helped slide a bolster behind her back. ‘Oh dear, I’m sorry to put you to this trouble. Have you bin to the wedding?’
‘That’s why I’m here, to tell you how it went.’ Catherine took a seat on the wooden settle which bore the shiny imprints of years of use. ‘Stephen looked very handsome and Emily, well—’
‘What was she wearing? There’s no point in asking my menfolk. One will say that the dress was red, another will say blue, and then they’ll argue about it and agree on green, and I’ll be none the wiser.’
‘Her dress was yellow and covered with lace.’
‘And her shoes?’
‘I believe she was wearing new ones of pale leather.’
‘How I wish I could have been there, but I have the dropsy, and there’s nothing that can be done. Would you mind putting the kettle on for tea?’
They drank weak tea from chipped cups and without saucers to catch the drips.
‘I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that you’re walking out with our Matty. He’s always talking about you, Catherine. I know he has his faults, but he’s turning out to be a steady young man. It’s such a shame that people can’t see the same in my Jervis. I don’t know what it is about him, but he’s always been misunderstood.’
‘He started the fire at Wanstall Farm. Don’t you remember?’ Catherine said.
‘That what everyone says, but he’d never do such a thing. I know, because I’m his mother.’ Ma Carter gazed at her visitor through tears. ‘I wish your pa had taken him on again. I miss my son. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again before I pass.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ve upset you. I should go home.’ Catherine stood up and smoothed her skirt.
‘You will come back soon,’ Ma Carter said. ‘I like to hear of the goings-on in the village. Mrs Browning calls on occasion with bread and cheese, and junket, but she doesn’t enjoy a good gossip.’