by Linda Finlay
‘What about animals? Do you keep any?’
Fay shook her head. ‘I live on very modest means, Eliza, and livestock cost money both to buy and to keep. Got some chickens initially but the foxes and pine martens soon had them. Waste of good money that was,’ she snorted. ‘Remember what I said last night about money? Well, that was my one and only investment. You can keep your animals.’
‘Duncan mentioned your pet pigeon, Woody,’ Eliza persisted.
The woman’s expression softened. ‘He’s different. Understand each other, we do. Now, where were we?’ she said brusquely. ‘Ah yes, provisions. Sometimes I get milk and eggs from the farm in return for helping out, otherwise it’s whatever I happen across.’ She gave a broad wink. ‘As I said, my garden keeps me in vegetables and herbs so stews are my mainstay. You can use whatever you fancy for our evening meals. Which reminds me: wood supplies. You’ll not be doing any cooking without a good fire,’ she said, getting to her feet. Eliza watched as she shrugged into the tattered greatcoat, tying it around her waist with the length of string before pulling a battered old bonnet down over her ears. The incongruous sight made her smile.
As Fay tugged open the door, a mighty gust of wind almost took it from its hinges, sending smoke from the fire billowing around the already gloomy room. Eliza coughed and shivered, causing Fay to frown. ‘You can’t afford to get a chill after that fever, girl. Best help yourself to one of my warm shirts and a pair of serge trousers from that drawer over there,’ she said, nodding towards the chest in the corner.
Trousers? Eliza had never worn such a garment in all her life.
Before she could answer, Fay had disappeared into the bright, white outside, only to reappear moments later with an armful of logs, which she threw down unceremoniously on the hearth. She tossed one onto the fire, then snatched up her satchel.
‘Back before dark,’ she said, disappearing outside again.
Eliza sat listening to the wind roaring around the building and the crackling coming from the grate. It was really quite cosy if you stayed by the fire and she couldn’t understand why Fay would choose to venture out. She stared around the untidy room and decided that after clearing away the breakfast things she’d tackle the cobwebs. Then come midday, when it should be warmer, she’d take herself out to the garden and see what vegetables there were before making a start on the bread.
The ceilings and fireplace were festooned with huge cobwebs that must have been there for years. Nature’s lace, her grampy had called them. Big black, hairy spiders, angry at being disturbed, scuttled across the ceiling and down the walls, making Eliza shudder. When she was satisfied not a web or dead fly remained, she snatched up a rag and began removing the patina of dust that covered every surface. Early snowdrops or not, she was tempted to remove the drooping flowers but by the time she’d got the room reasonably clean and tidy she was feeling weary.
Noticing her hands were covered in muck and feeling sticky after her exertions, she took herself outside. She was rinsing the worst of the grime from her face and hands when she sensed she was being watched. Afraid it was another unwanted visitor she spun round quickly and saw a dark pigeon eyeing her from the top of the shed door. It opened its beak and gave a shrill squawk, like a warning, before disappearing into the depths. Unnerved, Eliza fled inside.
6
Back indoors, Eliza began to shiver uncontrollably. The cold had penetrated her bones and she felt light-headed. Collapsing onto the chair, she huddled closer to the fire and closed her eyes.
When she opened them it was to see Fay sitting on the chair opposite, cutting vegetables into a large pot.
‘So you’ve woken then?’ the woman grunted.
Eliza’s eyes widened in horror; surely she hadn’t slept the whole day away?
‘Sorry, I only closed my eyes for a moment but I must have dropped off,’ she muttered. ‘I fully intended to prepare supper after I’d rested.’
‘Suppose it’ll take time for you to get back on your feet. Looks like you’ve been busy, anyway. Room’s cleaner than it’s ever been. Bet those spiders weren’t too pleased having to find new homes, though,’ she chuckled.
‘Well, at least the flies will be safe, poor things,’ Eliza retorted.
‘Pah, it’s nature’s way. Eat or be eaten. You can’t afford to be sentimental up here, girl. Anyhow, it’s not supper time yet. It was too cold to be sitting outside for long. Wind was savage and cut right through me so I came back for a warm. Still, I managed to sketch the outline of the icicles that were hanging from the bridge over the river. Like huge glassy daggers, they were.’
Eliza shivered.
‘I see you went outside without putting on something warmer like I suggested,’ said Fay, going over and rummaging in the chest. She threw Eliza a large woollen shirt and a pair of masculine-looking trousers. ‘Best put them on now.’ Eliza stared at the huge, rough garments and hesitated. ‘We don’t stand on ceremony here. Freeze to death if we did,’ Fay said pointedly.
‘But surely the warmer weather’s on its way?’ Eliza said, only to receive another look.
Realizing there was no use arguing, Eliza struggled into the heavy shirt. It reached almost to her ankles and was so baggy she could hardly see the floor, which was just as well, she thought, after she’d struggled into the ill-fitting trousers. She’d just finished buttoning them up when there was a knock on the door.
‘Thought you’d be back,’ Fay grunted as Duncan stepped into the room, his breath spiralling into the air as he blew on his hands. Catching sight of Eliza, he grinned broadly.
‘Why, Fay, you’re turning little un here into a smaller version of you,’ he laughed. Then his expression turned serious. ‘You’re looking very pale, Eliza. I hope Fay hasn’t been working you too hard.’
The woman snorted. ‘Hardly. She was sound asleep when I returned.’
Eliza hung her head in shame while Duncan stared around the room.
‘I’m not sure Eliza’s strong enough to be doing anything strenuous yet,’ he said, gently feeling her forehead with his large hand. ‘And it’s still cold in here, even with the fire blazing.’
‘Huh, it’s warmer than out on the moors,’ Fay snapped.
‘True,’ he agreed mildly, reaching in his voluminous pocket and drawing out a bottle. ‘Let’s get some of this down you, little un,’ he said, pouring red syrupy liquid into her mug.
‘I’m sorry to be a nuisance,’ she said.
He shook his head. ‘You can’t help being poorly. ’Tis up to us to help you get back on your feet,’ he said, gazing at her warmly with his chestnut eyes. Eliza’s heart jumped. No one had ever looked at her like that before. ‘Now get some sleep.’
‘But I’ve been sleeping most of the afternoon,’ she protested, her eyelids fluttering closed.
Next morning, they were just finishing their breakfast when Duncan reappeared.
‘Goodness, lad, don’t tell me you want feeding again?’ Fay joked as he perched on a rug on the floor and held his hands out to warm in front of the fire.
He shook his head. ‘I had something to eat at the farm earlier. They’re in a right state down there. Rose’s mother slipped on the ice and is housebound so can’t help them out. Ben’s torn between seeing to the animals and looking after Rose, who is apparently fretting each time the baby whimpers. I mixed something to help calm her, but even so …’ He shrugged.
‘Well, it’s natural for Rose to be anxious, I guess,’ Fay said, putting her dish to one side. ‘Anyhow, I can’t sit here chatting with you two. There’s a bright new
morn and my sketchpad beckons. I’ll replenish the wood supply and then be on my way.’
‘You know I’m happy to bring in the logs for you,’ Duncan said mildly, only to receive a scowl.
‘Quite capable of doing it myself,’ Fay grunted, shrugging into her coat and striding out of the door.
Duncan grinned at Eliza. ‘Can’t get used to seeing you dressed like that.’
She stared ruefully down at her weird attire. ‘And I can’t get used to wearing trousers. I feel all trussed up like a chicken.’
‘Guess they’ll keep you warm. You’re looking brighter this morning so that curative must be working. Which reminds me …’ he said, going over to the dresser and picking up the bottle. He was carefully pouring the ruby liquid into her cup when a terrible cry rent the air.
‘Stay here,’ Duncan ordered, rushing outside.
Eliza swallowed. What was going on? She didn’t have to wait long to find out. Moments later Duncan reappeared, supporting an ashen-faced Fay.
‘What’s happened?’ Eliza asked, helping the trembling woman into her chair.
Fay shook her head, tears coursing down her cheeks. ‘It’s Woody,’ she whispered.
‘You mean he’s …?’ Eliza asked.
Duncan nodded. ‘Cold got to him. Look after Fay, I’ll see to his …’
‘No! Leave him to me. Oh, Woody, Woody,’ Fay cried. As her gut-wrenching sobs filled the room Eliza stared helplessly at Duncan.
‘I’ll mix something to calm you, Fay,’ he said.
‘Just leave me alone, can’t you? Go on, get out, both of you,’ she ordered.
Eliza shuddered at the vehemence in her voice but Duncan nodded.
‘Happen that would be best, Fay. I’ve got the sled outside so I’ll take Eliza down to the farm for a while. It’ll be warmer there and Rose will be pleased of the company. Get your things together then wrap up as warm as you can, little un, for it’s still bitter out there.’
Eliza glanced over at Fay but the woman had her head in her lap and was sobbing her soul out. Catching sight of the snowdrops on the sill she felt a pang. She knew she should have got rid of them.
‘Come along,’ Duncan urged as she hesitated.
‘Are you sure we should leave Fay by herself?’
‘’Tis the best thing, believe me, and keep those things on,’ he added as she went to remove the baggy garments. ‘They might not become thee, young un, but they’ll help keep out the cold.’
Quickly she threw her sister’s shawl over the shirt, then gathered her few things into a bundle. All the while her thoughts were raging and, once outside, she turned to Duncan.
‘It’s my fault Woody died, you know,’ she burst out.
‘How do you make that out?’
‘I should have warned Fay about bringing snowdrops indoors. They betoken death.’
To her surprise Duncan snorted. ‘Oh, little un, if we believed every false notion we heard we’d never pick a living thing. Now come along before you catch your death. Sun might be out but ’tis a lazy wind blowing from the north and there’s still nothing of you.’
The sun was indeed shining brightly, making the snow-clad moor sparkle like a bejewelled wonderland. Despite her concern about Fay, Eliza felt excitement rising as Duncan helped her onto the sled, then piled her high with sheepskins until only her nose was showing.
‘Can’t be too careful,’ he said, picking up the ropes and pulling the sled effortlessly behind him.
As they slid over the frozen ground, Eliza stared around in fascination. She hadn’t realized she’d wandered this high up the moors. There were undulating hilltops as far as the eye could see, intersected by grey stone walling. The track was bordered with wind-bent beech hedge banks, and everywhere was blanketed in the silence of deep white snow.
Squinting down the valley, she could just make out the tops of trees and a scattering of buildings far below them. Overhead the sky was as bright blue as a dunnock’s egg, and dark buzzards were mewling as they circled their prey. Revelling in being outdoors again, Eliza was slow to realize they’d come to a stop. Smiling down at her, Duncan gently eased her back along the sled.
‘’Tis all downhill from now, so hold onto my waist and we’ll soar like swallows,’ he said, perching himself in front of her. Taking up the ropes, he pushed off with his foot and she clung tightly onto him as they sped down the moorland, the sled picking up pace as it went.
It was exhilarating to see the scenery whooshing by. She could taste the freshness of snow on the breeze and was enjoying herself so much she felt quite disappointed when they eventually came to a halt beside a strong fence surrounding Ashcombe Farm.
‘Are you sure they won’t mind me coming here, what with the new baby and everything?’ she asked, as Duncan helped her to her feet.
‘You’re used to dealing with infants, aren’t you?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I cared for my two younger brothers from the day they were born.’
‘Well then, you can teach Rose the mysterious ways of babyhood while I help Ben around the farm. And Fay needs peace and quiet to come to terms with her loss. Woody was her companion and confidant all rolled into one and she’s going miss him terribly. A pigeon might seem a peculiar friend to have but Fay really loved that bird and she’s not one to give her emotions lightly.’ Remembering the woman’s earlier resentment towards her, Eliza could only agree. ‘Come along, let’s get you in the warm,’ Duncan said, leaning the sled against the fence and tucking the sheepskins under his arm.
Clutching her bundle, Eliza followed him round the side of the large, blue-grey stone building, where long icicles dangled from the gutters like glass daggers. She’d hardly had time to take in her surroundings before the door was thrown open by a harassed-looking young man.
‘Duncan, am I glad to see you,’ he cried, showing them into a homely, if somewhat untidy kitchen. As a high-pitched squeal came from above, he threw up his hands. ‘As you can see, chaos reigns.’
‘Ben, this is Eliza. She has experience of babies and I thought Rose might be glad of some help until her mother can get here. Not that Eliza can do anything too strenuous as she’s still recovering from the fever.’
The young man grasped Eliza’s hand. ‘Welcome, Eliza. Any help you can give Rose with the baby will be gratefully received. He won’t stop crying and she’s convinced she must be doing something wrong.’
He looked so concerned her heart went out to the open-faced young farmer.
‘I’ll do my best, sir. It’s amazing how much havoc one little baby can cause. Luckily everything usually settles down within a week or so.’
‘Thank heavens for that, and please call me Ben,’ he said, raking his hand through his corn-coloured hair. ‘But where are my manners? You must be ready for a hot drink,’ he said, lifting a kettle onto the range. ‘Then I must go and milk the cows before it turns to cream in their udders.’
‘I’ll give you a hand,’ Duncan said.
‘Why don’t I tidy up in here and call you when the tea’s brewed?’ Eliza ventured.
Ben smiled for the first time since they’d arrived. ‘That would be a great help. By then, I hope Rose will be ready to join us.’ He pulled on his flat cap and headed towards the door.
‘Don’t overdo it, little un,’ Duncan warned before following after him.
Eliza looked around the farmhouse kitchen. Although the range was quite clean and burning brightly, the copper pans on the dresser would benefit from a polish. The big square deal table was littered with dirty dishes and mugs, but
there was water simmering in a large pot alongside the kettle. Quickly discarding her shawl, Eliza rolled up the voluminous sleeves of the woollen shirt and set to work. The stone sink was set beneath a window that looked out over the farmyard to rolling moors beyond.
She was pouring boiling water into the teapot when a fair-haired woman appeared, a sleeping babe in her arms. Her beautiful gentian eyes were shadowed by bruise-like smudges, and as she stood looking askance, Eliza bobbed a curtsy.
‘Morning, mistress. Eliza Dryad at your service.’
‘Oh, you must be Duncan’s friend,’ the woman said, smiling warmly. ‘I’m Rose, in case you didn’t realize, and this bundle of trouble is Joshua.’ She stared around in amazement. ‘My word, you have been busy.’
‘Tea should be mashed by now. Shall I pour or would you prefer to?’ Eliza asked automatically, then hesitated wondering if she’d been too forward in her dealings with this lady she’d only just met.
Rose nodded and smiled. ‘Would you mind? I’ve only just got Joshua here quiet and am dying for a hot drink,’ she said, collapsing onto one of the spindle-backed chairs. ‘Are you staying then?’ she asked, nodding to Eliza’s bundle.
‘If it’s all right with you,’ Eliza said. ‘Woody died in the cold and Duncan says it would be better for Fay to be by herself.’
The woman’s expression changed. ‘Oh, no,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘Well, of course I don’t have to,’ Eliza began, snatching up her bundle. She wouldn’t stay where she wasn’t wanted although where she’d go she had no idea. Returning to the hobble while Fay was so distressed wasn’t an option.
7
‘I meant, oh, no, poor Fay. She worshipped that pigeon. You’re very welcome here, Eliza.’ Rose smiled.