The Innkeeper's Daughter

by Val Wood

  ‘Come on, Bella,’ Joe said, when they arrived back. He was sitting by the kitchen fire toasting his toes. ‘Where’ve you been? We’ll be opening up in an hour.’

  ‘There’s nowt to be done.’ Bella propped Henry up in a chair with a cushion to stop him falling out. ‘Everything’s ready. I cleared up while you were out with Ma.’

  ‘And I helped,’ Nell butted in.

  ‘Aye, all right,’ Joe sighed. ‘But mek us a cup o’ tea. Who’s this then?’ Seth was standing by the kitchen door with his cap in his hands.

  ‘Seth Walker, sir,’ Seth said. ‘I’ve come for summat or other. It’s nice and warm in here, ain’t it?’ he added, gazing at the fire. ‘You’ve got a good blaze going. Is it coal?’

  Joe laughed. ‘Yeh, it’s coal. Don’t you use coal?’

  Seth shook his head. ‘No, onny wood or sometimes straw from ’bedding, but ’fire smokes when it’s damp.’

  Joe scratched his nose. ‘You use straw bedding for ’fire? That’s a bit wasteful, isn’t it?’

  Seth kept his eyes on the fire and moved closer. His legs were red raw. ‘I don’t mean animal bedding,’ he said, without looking up. ‘I mean our bedding. If ’little ’uns wet ’mattress then after a bit it gets right smelly and Ma has to burn it.’ He looked up then and caught Joe’s eye and grinned. ‘Don’t half mek ’house stink,’ he said.

  ‘Better come over here and get warm,’ Joe said. ‘What is it you say you’ve come for?’

  ‘He’s come for some goose fat,’ Nell said. ‘His brother’s got a cough and his ma’s going to rub it on his chest.’

  ‘I’ll lick him.’ Seth laughed. ‘I like ’taste o’ dripping, specially on bread.’

  Bella paused as she dug into the tub of fat. ‘Where’s Ma?’ she asked.

  ‘Bottom o’ paddock,’ Joe said, meaning the privy.

  Bella took a small bowl out of the cupboard and half filled it with the fat, then took a loaf out of the bread crock, cut a thick slice and scraped some dripping on to it. ‘Here,’ she said to Seth. ‘Eat that while you’re waiting.’

  ‘Ooh, thanks!’ Seth’s eyes lit up. ‘Can I have some salt on it?’

  Nell passed him the salt jar from the shelf at the side of the oven and he ladled a spoonful on to the bread and stuffed it into his mouth.

  ‘Mmm,’ he moaned. ‘That’s ’best dripping I’ve ever tasted in my life!’

  Bella went into the larder and found a glass jar and poured half a pint of goat’s milk into it. She secured the top and placed it in a deep basket; then she cut a slab of cheese and wrapped it in a muslin cloth and put that in as well. She took the basket back into the kitchen, put the bowl of goose fat in it and covered it over with a clean tea towel.

  ‘There you are,’ she said to Seth. ‘Bring ’bowl and ’basket back tomorrow, will you? Joe, will you set him home? There’s a blizzard blowing out there.’

  ‘And you want me to go out in it?’ her brother complained.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’ll do you good to see how other folk live.’

  ‘Oh, there’s no need,’ Seth said. ‘My da’ll call me a right softie if he thinks somebody’s setting me home.’

  ‘Halfway then,’ Bella compromised. ‘Just to ’bottom of his lane.’

  Joe got out of his chair and shook a finger at Bella. ‘You’ll have to mek up for this,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you go?’

  ‘Cos I’m going to warm up William’s supper, that’s why. He’ll be home any minute.’

  ‘What’s happening?’ Their mother came in, her shawl white with snow. ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘Seth Walker,’ Bella said. ‘Alice’s brother. Did you know that Mrs Walker has a bairn about ’same age as our Henry?’

  ‘He’s six months,’ Seth said. ‘He were born in July. But he’s not very big.’

  ‘No, I didn’t know,’ Sarah said. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Oh, no reason.’ Bella was flustered; there was a reason but she wasn’t going to discuss it now. ‘I’m giving Mrs Walker some goose fat, is that all right, Ma? One of her bairns has got a bad chest.’

  Sarah looked at Bella’s pleading face and then at the basket on the table and then at the boy whose lips dripped with grease and who was gazing anxiously at her; and she gave a little nod.

  ‘Finest thing for a cough,’ she agreed. ‘Tell her to wrap him in warm flannel,’ she told Seth, ‘and if you wait a minute I’ll give you a jar of honey to ease the soreness.’

  Seth’s eyes grew wide. ‘Ooh, thanks, missis.’

  Sarah’s eyes grew soft. ‘I remember you when you were a babby,’ she said. ‘A right bonny bairn you were, and now look at you, you ragamuffin,’ she added crisply. ‘Fetch a jar out of ’cupboard, Nell, and don’t forget to bring ’jar back when it’s empty,’ she told Seth.

  The boy looked sheepish, as if he didn’t know whether she was joking or not, but Bella smiled and handed him the basket.

  ‘How do you know them, Ma?’ Bella asked after Seth and Joe had left. ‘They live right at ’other end of ’village.’ She shook out the tablecloth and set it on the table with plates and cutlery.

  ‘When we first came to ’Woodman and we were newcomers to ’area, Ellen Brown as she was then came and asked us if there was a job going. I asked her if she knew how to look after bairns, cos I’d just had Joe, and she said that she did as she was ’middle one of twelve. She’d be about seventeen, I suppose, and very chatty and industrious and told me who was who in ’village; we took her on and she stayed wi’ us for about two years, I suppose … after I’d had William, anyway. She was a nice lass,’ Sarah added. ‘I liked her. Then she married and got pregnant and left. She lost that bairn and then had another and he died when he was a twelvemonth; pneumonia, I think.’ She sighed. ‘She’s had a hard life, but she was allus proud and wouldn’t accept help. Her husband’s a hard man, from what I hear.’

  ‘I think she’d accept help now,’ Bella said quietly. ‘She said her bairns were starving. Her youngest was dressed in an old shirt for a nappy. He wasn’t wearing anything else but a shawl.’

  ‘I’ll find him summat,’ Sarah said. ‘That’s what you’re asking, isn’t it?’

  Bella nodded. She’d felt utterly dispirited at the sight of that family and couldn’t stop thinking about them. Her mother, caught with an unexpected pregnancy, had unpacked a box of baby clothes which she had kept after Nell had grown out of them and used them for Henry. They were not even new for Nell but had been Bella’s baby clothes: crisp white petticoats and knitted bootees and little coats.

  ‘There are three little bairns,’ Bella told her, ‘as well as Seth and Janey, and Alice who works as a skivvy.’

  Her mother shook her head. ‘We can’t help them all, Bella. They’re not ’onny family in ’village on hard times. It’s winter and there’s not much work about. She’s lucky to have a husband in a regular job. That’s why your father wanted ’lads to learn a trade, so they could fall back on other work, cos who knows what’s in front of us?’

  Bella swallowed. ‘But innkeeping’s a trade, Ma. We’ll allus be able to earn a living, won’t we?’

  Henry started to yell, kicking his legs and waving his arms about. Sarah picked him up, unbuttoned her blouse and put him to her breast.

  ‘I hope so,’ she said. ‘But like I said, who knows? But for ’grace o’ God we could be in ’same predicament.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  BY NEW YEAR’S Eve, Jamie was bored. He’d worked on school essays, mathematics and Latin and French revision, helped his sisters with their English grammar and praised their art and sewing and was now desperate to get out of the house.

  ‘Does anyone fancy a ride?’ he asked during luncheon. ‘The snow has stopped. It’s sunny.’

  ‘No, thanks,’ Felix said. ‘Some of us have work to do.’

  ‘No, thank you,’ Frances said. ‘I’m going to read for pleasure, instead of dry old text.’

  ‘I’ll come,’ Mary told him. ‘
How long will you be out?’

  His heart sank. He was only asking to be polite. He would actually prefer some time on his own.

  ‘A couple of hours,’ he said. ‘Bonny needs some exercise.’

  ‘To the sands, then?’ She looked up at him, her fork halfway to her mouth. ‘It will be very cold.’

  ‘No, inland, I think. It’s boring going up and down on the sands; besides, the tide will be in now.’

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘Wrap up warm, Mary,’ her father told her. ‘Don’t catch a chill. The doctor won’t want to come out on New Year’s Day. Better stick to the roads, James. The snow is thick in the meadows; don’t want the pair of you dropping into a ditch.’

  James hid his impatience. He knew the hazards of the deep dykes, drains and ditches which criss-crossed the Holderness countryside without needing to be reminded. But he answered his father politely, agreeing that that was what he intended.

  Mary slid down from her chair after she had excused herself. ‘I’ll go and change,’ she said. ‘Will you ask Bob to saddle up for me, Jamie? And tell him to put a blanket on her as well.’

  Their father had bought Mary a Shetland pony when she was three and taught her to ride. Frances had been given one at the same age, but she wasn’t so enthusiastic, preferring indoor pursuits of reading or sewing; Mary now had a Dales pony, Lady, sturdy and reliable, and was often to be seen riding her on her own in the paddock, but she wasn’t allowed any further without someone else with her.

  She joined Jamie in the stables wearing a green wool riding habit, warm leather gloves, boots and a soft hat, with a wool cloak and hood over the top.

  ‘You look very sweet, Mary,’ Jamie commented. ‘And cosy and warm.’

  ‘Mrs Greenwood made me put on the cloak,’ Mary pouted. ‘She didn’t want me to come; she said it was too cold to be out.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Jamie said. ‘It’s sunny; we shall soon get warm once we’re under way. Unless you want to change your mind,’ he added. ‘Don’t come unless you really want to.’

  ‘I do want to,’ Mary said. ‘We hardly ever see you and when you go back to Hull in the New Year I expect you’ll be too busy to come home very often.’

  ‘Next term will be crucial,’ he agreed. Taking the pony’s reins he led her out into the yard, whilst Bob Hopkins followed with Bonny. ‘I’ll have to study very hard if I’m to go to university.’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t go,’ Mary pleaded. ‘I don’t like it when you’re not here. There’s no one to talk to.’

  ‘Frances?’ he queried. ‘Miss Lane?’ Miss Lane was their governess.

  ‘Oh!’ Mary pulled a face. ‘Frances always has her nose in a book, and Miss Lane only speaks of educational matters. I’d like to talk about other things and ask you what you do in Hull after school, and if you look in the shops or go to the museums.’

  Jamie pondered. Mary was a bright child and obviously restricted at home; only able to go out if Miss Lane or one of the maids went with her.

  ‘Would you like to go to school?’ he asked her.

  ‘I asked Papa if I could go to one of the village schools, but he said it was out of the question and that I’d probably know more than the other pupils.’

  Jamie led her to the mounting block and waited whilst she was seated. Then he mounted Bonny and they moved off out of the yard and towards the long drive leading down to the road.

  ‘I wasn’t thinking of a local school,’ he continued. ‘I was wondering if you’d like to board. That’s if Father would agree.’

  ‘I think that perhaps I would. I’d be able to talk to other girls, wouldn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, and you’d make friends, friends of your own choosing and not just the children of people Father knows. I’ve made friends with the fellows at Hull Grammar, chaps who have the same interests as I do.’

  ‘You’re very lucky,’ Mary said in a sulky voice. ‘That’s because you’re a man and can go out in the world and I can’t, because I’m a female. It’s not fair, is it, Jamie? Do you think it’s fair?’

  They reached the end of the drive and turned on to the road. Jamie’s mare pulled as if to go towards the coast and he veered her the other way. ‘No gallop for you today, Bonny,’ he murmured and patted her neck. ‘Just a nice gentle trot. No,’ he answered Mary’s plaintive question. ‘I don’t think it’s fair at all, but you do have advantages that many other people don’t.’

  She dug her heels into the pony’s flanks to keep up with Bonny. ‘What sort of people?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, for instance, like the maids who work in the kitchen under Cook. They’re out in the world, aren’t they, but you wouldn’t like their life.’

  ‘Well, no, I wouldn’t, but they chose it, didn’t they? And if they don’t like it I suppose they could go home.’

  ‘Mm.’ Jamie decided that he wasn’t getting anywhere with this conversation and said, ‘Come on, let’s go a little faster or we shall all feel the cold, the horses as well as you and me. Just look at the snowdrifts; someone has been hard at work clearing the road.’

  The snow had been steadily falling all night and as they rode on they came upon several men with caps pulled over their ears and mufflers round their necks wielding large flat shovels, removing the snow and depositing it at the side of the hedges to make a pathway along the road.

  Jamie touched his hat in a responsive thank you and the men stopped working and took off their caps.

  ‘Thank you very much,’ Mary piped up. ‘You’re making a splendid effort.’

  One of the men grinned and said, ‘Thank you, miss,’ but a couple of others just stood frowning and said nothing.

  ‘Should we have given them a copper, Jamie?’ she asked, when out of the men’s earshot.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘The local farmer will be employing them to clear that stretch so that he can get his waggons through. There’ll be someone else further along doing the same thing. They work jointly as a rule.’

  ‘So will Papa have someone clearing the road near our land?’

  ‘Yes, I imagine so.’ His breath drifted from his lips in vaporous wispy trails. ‘Or Felix will.’ And he pondered that both his sisters ought to go away to school where they might learn something about real life by mixing with other girls, for they knew virtually nothing except what they were taught from books.

  They trotted on for another half-hour; there were no other travellers and where the road hadn’t been cleared it was dense with packed snow. The sun was extremely bright and shone silver sharp on the long untrammelled stretch of white, the reflected light dazzling them, forcing them to blink and wink and making their eyes water.

  ‘I’m blind,’ Mary complained after a while. ‘I can’t see where I’m going. I can only see spots of colour, red and green and black.’

  ‘Keep your head down and your eyelids lowered,’ Jamie told her. ‘Look down at Lady’s neck, not at the snow. She’ll keep you safe.’

  ‘Can’t we turn back yet?’ she asked. ‘I’m cold.’

  ‘But we’ve not been out an hour yet!’ Jamie protested. ‘Can you not manage a little longer, and then we’ll turn for home. We’ve hardly given the horses any exercise. We’ll go up to the top of the next rise.’

  Mary lifted her head and squinted into the distance. ‘As far as that church?’

  ‘Yes, all right. I shan’t bring you again if you want to turn back so soon,’ he said crossly. ‘It’s such a lovely day. You surely can’t want to be indoors.’

  She sighed dramatically. ‘It’s only because the sun is hurting my eyes.’

  ‘Wear a veil another time,’ he admonished her, and then, coaxingly, ‘If you’ll ride to the top of the rise, there’s an inn there and I’ll buy you a glass of lemonade.’

  ‘Is there? Will you? How do you know?’ Her voice became more animated.

  ‘I sometimes call on my way from Hull.’

  ‘I didn’t know that. You’ve never said.’<
br />
  ‘No reason to,’ he said neutrally. ‘I just call to break the journey, that’s all.’

  ‘Am I allowed to go inside?’ she asked. ‘Miss Lane says drink is evil and ruins lives.’

  ‘I wasn’t suggesting that you drank any alcohol,’ Jamie said resignedly. ‘It’s an old coaching inn where travellers used to stay overnight. Maybe they still do.’

  ‘Oh!’ she said eagerly. ‘So if there was a blizzard they’d give us supper and find a bed for us? And give us breakfast in the morning to revive us before we continued our journey?’

  Jamie smiled. ‘Yes, something of the sort. But there’s not going to be a blizzard; the sky is clear so we’ll stop for ten minutes and have refreshments and then turn for home. How will that suit you, madam?’

  Mary nodded. ‘Thank you. Most acceptable. How exciting,’ she added. ‘I’ve never done anything like that before. Frances will be so envious.’

  They clattered into the inn yard ten minutes later; Jamie dismounted and led Bonny and Lady towards the old stables. He helped Mary down and took the two horses into the empty stall.

  ‘Oh, Jamie!’ Mary was disconcerted. ‘Is this a proper stable? Lady usually has her own stall.’

  ‘I know she does,’ Jamie said. ‘But just this once she will have to share.’ He tied both mounts to a hitching rail. ‘I’m sure she won’t mind. There’s plenty of room, and we won’t be long.’

  They walked round to the front of the building and went in and Jamie led his sister into the taproom. A group of elderly men were at a table playing dominoes. One lone man was sitting by the fire and behind the counter Joe was drinking from a tankard. He looked up when he saw Jamie and nodded and glanced at Mary.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ Jamie said. ‘Is, erm, is Miss Thorp here by any chance?’

  ‘Miss Thorp!’ Joe wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Aye, I reckon she is.’ He came from behind the counter and went towards the door that led into the private part of the house. He turned back. ‘Was there owt special you wanted her for?’