by Linda Finlay
Duncan shook his head. ‘Take one day at a time,’ he advised. ‘You certainly look different in that pretty dress,’ he added, trying to calm her by changing the subject.
‘Fay added this flounce to my old homespun,’ she said, holding out her skirt. ‘Why would she do that, if she hates me so much?’
‘Look, Fay doesn’t hate you. In fact she was out of her mind with worry when her own remedy failed to bring down your temperature. That’s why she sent her precious Woody to get me.’
‘Woody? Is he a dog?’ Eliza said, looking around as if one might materialize out of the shadows.
Duncan laughed. ‘Woody is her pet pigeon.’
‘But I thought she shot pigeons.’
Duncan’s deep belly laugh rumbled around the room. ‘She does if they eat her precious vegetables, but then she does have to live,’ he said, shrugging philosophically. ‘Woody’s different, though. Fay tended his broken wing and they seem to have formed a bond. He’s stayed with her ever since. Follows her around all day, then roosts on the wood pile in the shed outside. When you failed to respond to her ministering she tied a message to his leg telling me to come quickly as there was a child in need of strong curatives to bring down the fever.’
‘She never said. But then she never says much at all.’
‘She can appear aloof, a bit eccentric even, but we’re all different. I’m hoping this should make things a bit easier,’ he said, taking a wooden mug from his pocket and placing it on the hearth.
‘Why, that’s beautiful,’ Eliza exclaimed, marvelling at the way the handle seemed to flow seamlessly from the body of the mug. Then she noticed the E carved on the front. ‘It’s for me?’
‘Of course. Fay can have her own back,’ he said with a wink. ‘I’ve also made an elixir to purify your blood and stimulate your appetite.’ He got up, poured some dark liquid into the mug and handed it to Eliza. She took a sip then grimaced at the bitter taste.
‘What’s in this?’ she asked warily.
‘Nature’s bounty, now drink it up,’ he said, watching until she’d finished every last drop.
‘That’s better. Both Fay and I agree that nature will provide, always supposing you know where to look for it, of course.’
‘She said you were a druid – what does that mean?’
‘Druids believe in spiritual powers, that all nature is part of the great web of life.’
‘Like a spider’s web?’ she asked curiously.
‘Exactly,’ he agreed. ‘We worship the land, the earth, the trees, the stars and the universe. We encourage love and peace and believe no animal has supremacy over another.’
Hearing the sincerity in his words, Eliza remembered the gentleness of his hands as he sponged the fever away.
‘But Fay kills animals for their meat, doesn’t she?’
‘Indeed, for man must eat. However, she firmly believes that if an animal needs to be killed it should be done humanely and every last scrap used out of respect. And, of course, animals themselves kill to live. ’Tis the cycle of things. But that’s quite enough for now, my little dryad.’ Eliza looked askance at him. ‘It means female spirit of the tree. With your elfin features, you remind me of one.’
‘Dryad – I like that. Soon I shall leave here and will be known as Eliza Dryad,’ she declared.
‘Don’t be hasty, little un. We are still in the deadness of January and haven’t reached the moorland turn of the year yet. Up here in the hills ’tis only at Candlemas next month we mark our midwinter. Hence the old saying, till Candlemas Day keep half your hay.’
Eliza looked at him in horror. ‘But that’s ages yet.’
He chuckled. ‘Miss Impatience. When the thaw comes, I’ll show you the woods where I live and tell you more about our way of life. That’ll be a treat for you to look forward to,’ he winked. ‘Now, though, you need to rest and I must chop some wood for Fay. She’s an independent old thing and more than capable, but I like to help, especially when she’s out of the way,’ he said, grinning as he got to his feet.
Eliza closed her eyes and dreamed she was a dryad soaring over trees and lush green meadows. The sun was blazing from an azure sky and she felt alive with happiness. She was rudely awakened by a sharp rap on the door. Thinking Duncan would answer, she remained where she was but the knocking persisted. Groggily she got to her feet and tugged at the rickety wood. A man of middle years stood there. He was shabbily, if cleanly, dressed and grinning inanely.
‘Afternoon, maid. It’s perishing out here, can I come in?’
‘No. It’s not my home, you see.’
‘So I gathered. I been told you’re seeking a live-in position so happen this could be your lucky day. I farm lower down the moor. Wife died before Christmas and I need someone to keep house. You’re not as scrawny as I feared so if you play your cards right happen you could be the next missus. A fellow needs someone to warm his bed of a night,’ he said, giving a raucous guffaw. His suggestive remarks made her feel sick. Where was Duncan? Surely he hadn’t left whilst she was asleep?
‘I think you must have heard wrong,’ she ventured.
‘Don’t think so, maid. The old woman was quite certain, though I have to say her description didn’t do you justice,’ he said, eyeing her up and down. Then he caught sight of the ugly black boot under her skirt and his expression changed. ‘Seems like old Jed here will be doing you a favour, maid. Told the woman I’d take you so never let it be said I don’t honour my word. Good job I brought the harvest cart up, though,’ he said, gesturing to the gate where a grey pony was stamping the frozen ground impatiently.
Eliza looked at the long low wagon, with neatly railed sides, and shuddered. He really expected her to go with him, she thought, taking a step backwards.
‘Yer, ’tis cold,’ he said, mistaking her movement. ‘So hurry up, get your things and we’ll be on our way.’
Eliza shook her head. She’d rather live rough on the moors than go anywhere with this bumptious bumpkin.
Frantically, she pushed the door shut but his foot shot out, preventing it from closing, and he grabbed her arm.
‘I haven’t come all this way for nothing, maid, and you ain’t in any position to be fussy, are you? Now be quick and get your things,’ he hissed.
Eliza shuddered. Although she was hurt that Fay seemed so keen for her to move on, she had no intention of going anywhere with this obnoxious creep. She’d rather starve than sink that low.
5
‘Take your hands off her this minute,’ a voice called. Seeing Duncan striding up the path, Eliza almost fainted with relief.
‘No need to take that tone, I’m sure,’ the man blustered. ‘The old woman told me the maid was looking for board and bed so …’
‘I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Eliza is a guest here so I’d be obliged if you would leave,’ Duncan insisted firmly.
The man spat in disgust, a globule of spittle glistening on his lip.
‘Go inside, Eliza,’ Duncan ordered. ‘I’ll see our visitor safely on his way.’
As Eliza hurried back to the warmth of the fire, she could hear the sound of raised voices. Unwittingly, she’d caused trouble again, she thought, stumbling across the room, fear and nerves making her limp more pronounced. She heard the man shout to his horse as she collapsed weakly into the chair. Then Duncan appeared, pushing the door firmly shut behind him. He looked furious.
‘I’m sorry …’ she began.
‘Whatever for?’ he asked.
‘For causing trouble. I can see you’re cross wi
th me.’
He shook his head, his expression softening. ‘I am cross but not with you, little un.’
Eliza struggled to her feet. ‘I must go. I won’t stay where I’m not wanted,’ she muttered, but the room started spinning and she clutched at the arm of the chair for support. In an instant, Duncan was by her side, gently settling her back down again.
‘You are in no fit state to go anywhere. Close your eyes and get some rest,’ he ordered, drawing the cover over her.
‘But …’ she began weakly.
‘Hush, no arguing now,’ he soothed, reaching into his capacious pocket and drawing out a wooden flute. As a lilting melody filled the room Eliza felt her agitation easing. The mellow notes reminded her of a spring breeze rustling leaves in the trees and she closed her eyes, dreaming again that she was a spirit floating free.
‘Whatever were you thinking of, Fay? She could have come to real harm.’ Eliza was woken by Duncan’s angry whispering.
‘Seemed like the perfect solution. Jed mentioned that he was looking for help around the home and …’
‘But she’s only a child, Fay,’ Duncan interrupted.
‘Apparently she’ll be fifteen in a few weeks. That’s hardly a child, Duncan.’
‘Fifteen, you say? You’d never think to look at her, she’s so tiny. Still, that’s hardly the point, Fay. She’s malnourished, exhausted …’
‘Stop going on, Duncan. Like I said, it would have solved all our problems. She’d have had a job and a roof over her head and I’d have got my space back.’
‘But you should have seen the way he was leering at her,’ he protested.
‘So I’m a nursemaid now, am I?’ Fay’s voice became querulous and Eliza bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. Yet again people were arguing over her. Well, she wasn’t going to stay where she wasn’t wanted. But before she could move, the wrangling started again.
‘Being by yourself has made you selfish and self-centred, Fay. If, as you maintain, you live by the moorland ways, you’ve certainly got a funny way of showing it.’
‘How dare you? Get out, you whippersnapper!’
‘Don’t worry, I’m going. Think on what I said, though. You’ve got a heart of gold hidden beneath that prickly exterior, Fay, and that girl’s crying out for a bit of love and attention. Is it too much to ask that you give her a little compassion?’
Eliza heard his footsteps crossing the room and the door closing. Then there was a thud as something hit the wood after him.
‘Good riddance,’ Fay muttered. Eliza heard her poking the fire vigorously. ‘Can’t even sit in my own chair,’ she added. Feeling the woman staring at her, Eliza could stay quiet no longer. Struggling to her feet, she reached for her shawl.
‘I’m sorry, Fay,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave right away.’
‘It’s dark outside. Can’t be responsible for you getting sucked into a bog so you’d better stay another night,’ the woman grunted. Then she turned and held a spill to the flame before lighting an unused candle that was stuck in a bottle beside her. ‘There, as it’s been an eventful day we’ll treat ourselves to a bit of comfort,’ she said, snuffing out the spill between her finger and thumb. ‘Bring over one of those chairs so we can both have a seat.’ Eliza hesitated. ‘For goodness’ sake, hurry up, girl. It’s not often I light a candle at suppertime, or any other time, come to that. Cost money, they do. Now, we need sustenance; can’t think on an empty stomach.’ She nodded towards the chairs by the table, then swung the crook from over the fire and began ladling stew into two mismatched platters.
As the savoury aroma wafted her way, Eliza was surprised to find she was hungry. They ate in silence then sat staring into the fire. Fay seemed lost in her own thoughts and Eliza didn’t like to disturb her. How she wished Duncan had stayed. His calm presence gave her confidence and Fay’s moods were unpredictable. At this very moment she might be hatching another plan to get rid of her. She clutched the edge of her chair, hardly daring to move in case she upset the woman.
After a while, she sensed Fay glancing at her. Fay opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something then thought better of it. Finally she looked directly at Eliza.
‘Duncan says I’m prickly. Would you agree?’ she asked, her voice sounding loud after the silence.
Eliza took in the woman’s unkempt appearance. With her hair sticking out at odd angles, bright button eyes and the shadows cast by the candle making her nose look wrinkled she certainly didn’t give the impression of being approachable. Eliza swallowed, not sure how to answer. If she said what she was thinking she would offend, yet she’d been brought up to be truthful.
‘I guess if you were an animal, you’d be a hedgehog,’ she finally ventured.
Fay stared at her in surprise, then burst out laughing, the raucous sound echoing round the small room, making the dishes on the dresser rattle.
‘You’ll do, girl. I like someone who’s not afraid to speak their mind. It was wrong of me to send Jed up here, I can see that now. When I bumped into him it seemed the perfect solution but I didn’t think it through. Believe me when I say I meant no harm?’ She paused, staring at Eliza intently as she waited for her to answer.
Not trusting herself to speak, Eliza merely nodded.
‘Truth is, I become restless cooped up indoors,’ the woman continued. ‘I need to be outside, working the land, hunting meat for the pot or drawing the flora and fauna. They’re my passion, you see, and the hours of daylight are short this time of year. Obviously whilst I’m doing that I can’t see to things here and if you’re to stay until you’re fully recovered there’ll be more to do. So the answer’s obvious, isn’t it?’
Eliza frowned. ‘I’m not sure I understand,’ she ventured.
‘Goodness, girl, have you lost your marbles along with your mutton? You said you can cook, clean and sew?’
Eliza nodded, hardly daring to hope the woman meant what she thought she did.
‘Well, then. If you keep the hovel clean and cook our meals that will leave me free to skip off and sketch.’ The incongruous vision of the older woman skipping about the moors made her smile.
‘Why do you call this place a hovel?’ she asked, looking around the room.
Fay frowned. ‘It’s just one name for a tiny dwelling hereabouts. Hovel? Hobble? Does it matter?’ she said eventually.
‘I think hobble sounds much nicer.’
‘Then by all means call it that. The place has been hobbled together anyhow. Now, do you agree to my suggestion?’ Fay asked, holding out her hand. ‘No doubt Duncan will make sure I’m looking after you properly.’
That clinched it. With him around she’d feel safe. She just hoped he hadn’t taken offence at the woman’s parting shot.
Eliza placed her hand in Fay’s, trying not to flinch at her vice-like grip. She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her. Not only would she have somewhere to stay whilst she recovered, she could make herself useful. Then a thought hit her.
‘I don’t have any money, though,’ she ventured.
Fay snorted. ‘Nor do I, Eliza, nor do I. Many years ago, when I decided to come here and live the moorland way, I thought long and hard about how I would exist. In order to survive one needs running water, which the streams around here supply in abundance. One also needs access to fresh food, which I get from various means, including my vegetable plot out the back. With careful management and planning it supplies my needs year round.’
Eliza watched as the woman became quite animated. To live without money seemed a fascinating concept and she
leaned forward to make sure she did not miss a word.
‘Then there’s a roof over one’s head. You might not think this a palace,’ Fay said, gesturing around the room, ‘but to me it is home. It provides shelter from the elements and is a haven to return to at nightfall. A fire provides both heat and a means of cooking food. There is an abundance of wood to collect for fuel around these parts if one is prepared to expend the energy. Of course one also needs clothes on one’s back but I had a good supply when I left …’ She stuttered to a halt and her eyes glazed over as if she was thinking back to another time. Eliza stared into the fire and waited.
After a few moments, Fay shook her head. ‘Anyway, as you can see, I am virtually self-sufficient and don’t recall mentioning that money word along the way.’ She saw Eliza staring at her in amazement and chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, girl, you’ll not want for anything. Now it’s time we bedded down for the night. I’ll see if we can’t rig up something to give us a bit of privacy when the weather warms up. Meantime, we’ll have to carry on sleeping in front of the fire or we’ll find ourselves frozen to our mattresses.’
Although Eliza resolved to be up before Fay, she woke to the smell of frying meat. The woman was in an amiable mood, though, and handed her a platter before she’d even risen.
‘Here, get that down you. Remember, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Eat well at the beginning and you’ll have energy enough to cope with everything the day throws at you.’ Eliza stared down at the black-red meat and shook her head. How quickly she’d become accustomed to having venison for breakfast. Whatever would her mother and father think of such luxury? Knowing it would serve no purpose pursuing that line of thought she stifled a sigh and began to eat.
‘What would you like me to do today, Fay?’ she asked, putting her empty platter aside. The woman stared around the room and shrugged.
‘Tidy and clean up a bit. Don’t overdo things, though, or I’ll have Duncan to answer to. There’s barley in the shed out back if you’ve a yen to make some bread any time. Now that would be a rare treat. I’ll bring in some wood before I leave.’