by Linda Finlay
Thankfully, they made it inside without mishap. Fay, covered by the blanket, was perched awkwardly on the chair holding out her hands to the fire, which had almost died. As Duncan lit another candle from the one in the lantern, Eliza could see she was ashen, her face pinched with pain.
‘You get a blaze going while I take the horse into the barn before the poor thing freezes. I’ll bring in more wood when I return,’ Duncan said. His calm, authoritative voice spurred Eliza into action and she bent and raked through the embers, adding twigs and the smaller pieces of chopped wood until it flared. Thankfully the pot was full of water and after hooking it onto the arm she pulled it over the fire to heat, then turned to Fay.
The woman had her eyes closed and was shivering violently. Quickly, Eliza piled the sheepskins around her shoulders and on top of the blanket, then eased the chair closer to the fire. She’d just finished when Duncan reappeared. He took one look at Fay and shook his head.
‘Shock’s set in,’ he said, taking a bottle out of his pocket then going over to the dresser and pouring liquid into a mug. ‘Right, Fay, drink this,’ he urged, holding it to her lips. To Eliza’s surprise she meekly did as he said. Then, exhausted, she sank back in the chair and closed her eyes. He dropped to his knees, ignoring her protests as he tugged off her boots. Gently he began feeling along her feet and ankles. ‘Hmm, I think that’s wrenched but not broken or sprained. Now let’s have a look at your hands.’ Meekly she held them up for him to examine. ‘A couple of cuts and you’ve definitely sprained your right wrist. You must have gone down with a good wallop, old girl,’ he murmured.
‘Call me that again, whippersnapper, and I’ll toss you out in the snow, sprain or no sprain,’ she grunted weakly.
Eliza saw the colour returning to the woman’s cheeks and realized Duncan had goaded her on purpose. While he gently cleaned Fay’s hands then bound her wrist and ankle with strips of old sheeting, Eliza busied herself making them hot drinks.
They sat in front of the fire, sipping their tea and listening to the ferocious wind howling around the building like a wild animal. Fay had stopped shivering and was dozing quietly when Duncan, who was perched on the floor between the two chairs, leaned forward and tossed more logs onto the blaze.
‘Time you got some sleep, ladies,’ he said, getting to his feet and pulling down their mattresses. Eliza stifled a yawn. The day had been so eventful, she hadn’t realized she was tired until now. As another strong gust of wind buffeted the hobble, Fay turned to Duncan.
‘Weather’s worsening. You’d best stay the night.’
‘Only if you ladies promise not to fight over me,’ he quipped.
Fay snorted. ‘It was the horse I was concerned about,’ she muttered weakly, then winced.
Instantly, he was on his feet, mixing more liquid and handing it to Fay. ‘Drink this, it’ll ease the pain and settle you.’ While the woman drank it down, he piled her mattress with sheepskins. Then, he helped her remove the greatcoat and placed it on top.
‘Look the other way, whippersnapper, whilst we get into bed,’ Fay grunted. ‘Got little un’s reputation to think of.’
‘I’ll check the horse is all right and bring in more wood,’ he said. ‘When I return, I expect to see you both asleep.’
Eliza smiled as he disappeared. Who would ever have imagined Fay obeying him, she thought, watching as the woman sank down awkwardly onto the mattress. Knowing better than to offer to help, she took off her cloak and spread it over the sheepskins. She was just settling onto her own bed when she felt something prickle her hair. Reaching up, she smiled when her hands came into contact with the coronet of laurel leaves. Carefully removing it, she placed it on the table. She would press it to keep for ever. It was just a shame she’d lost her grampy’s box, she thought, pulling the covers over her.
It had been such an exciting day. Her mind drifted back to the Wassail. Who would have thought that she, Eliza Dryad, would spend the night dancing? And in the arms of the handsome giant? She closed her eyes, reliving what it had felt like.
The next thing she knew, cold grey light of the morning was filtering through the window. Fay was still sleeping but of Duncan there was no sign. Surely he hadn’t spent the night outside in the freezing weather? Quickly she removed the beautiful dress, shaking out the creases before tugging on the old warm shirt and trousers of Fay’s. Then she riddled the embers until the fire blazed once more.
The door burst open and Duncan appeared, buffeted in on yet another strong gust of wind. He was carrying a pail of fresh water in one hand and had more logs under his other arm. Eliza hurried to push the door closed behind him.
‘Morning, little un. Fay’s still asleep, then?’ Eliza nodded. ‘Best thing for her. That’s a fair blaze you’ve got going there, so let’s get some water heated for a drink. I’m parched. Fay keeps a good wood store but we don’t how long this weather will last so I’ll bring in some peat before I leave. You can use that to keep the fire in overnight without using up her stock.’
‘You’re leaving?’ she asked, staring at him in dismay.
He nodded, opened his mouth to say something but Fay winced and he hunkered down beside her.
‘Hmm, temperature’s high. How are you feeling?’
‘Stiff as a board,’ she moaned, trying to sit up. Duncan helped her, propping her back against the sheepskins.
‘Your ankle’s like a puffball so you won’t be getting your boots on for a few days. In fact you are going to have to take it easy.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of going for a sprint over the moors,’ she snapped.
‘Maybe not, but you’ll have to stay indoors so I’ll bring in a gazunder for you to use.’
‘Do that and you’ll be wearing it over your head,’ she grunted. ‘Besides, I keep me onions in it. Haven’t you anything more useful to spend your time doing, like making me a good brew?’
He grinned. ‘Luckily for you, Eliza’s already got the water heating. Now let’s have a look at those cuts and bruises.’
‘I haven’t got any bruises, whippersnapper.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong, old woman. There’s one as black as the hobs of hell on your forehead. Now let me look at you whilst Eliza makes us that drink. If you’re very good, she might even fry you an egg and a chop of bacon.’
The woman cackled. ‘Oh, and I just happen to have luxuries like that around here, have I?’
Duncan nodded. ‘Indeed you have. Ben insisted on giving me some supplies last night in appreciation for Eliza helping with young Joshua.’ As Duncan pointed to the table by the window where he’d placed the food, Eliza looked up in surprise.
‘Don’t ever say nay to recompense for a job done, girl,’ Fay told her. ‘Well, come on, get cooking. My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.’
Leaving Duncan to deal with Fay, Eliza tossed fat into the large, battered pan and whilst it was melting, made their tea. Before long, the delicious aroma of frying bacon and eggs filled the room, making her stomach growl.
As she dished up their food, Duncan grinned, producing a package from his capacious pocket with a flourish.
‘Bit of bread to mop up the juices,’ he said, hacking at it with a knife.
‘We’ll have a feast,’ Eliza exclaimed, adding a thick slice to Fay’s plate and passing it to her. ‘Would you like me to help you?’ she asked, glancing down at the woman’s strapped wrist.
‘You keep your hands off my food, girl. I can manage just fine,’ she grunted, slipping her wrist out of the makeshift sling.
‘’Tis a sham
e you injured your right wrist, Fay,’ Duncan commented.
‘Why? You know full well I’m left-handed,’ the woman smirked, digging into her bacon with determination. Eliza shook her head. He really did know how to pull her strings, didn’t he?
‘That was a good meal, young un,’ he commented, tossing his plate on the hearth.
‘Why do you call me “little un” and “young un” when I’m neither of those things?’ Eliza asked.
He stared at her in surprise. ‘’Tis only names.’
‘But I’ll be fifteen next month,’ she cried, hardly understanding why it suddenly mattered he should know she was on the threshold of womanhood.
‘So I understand,’ he said, frowning at her outburst.
Sighing, Eliza got to her feet. Why she was feeling restless she had no idea. And did it really matter what Duncan called her?
They were sitting in front of the fire sipping their tea when another gust blew a cloud of thick smoke back out of the hearth, making them all cough and splutter.
‘Seems to be getting even worse,’ muttered Duncan, inclining his head towards the back of the building where the north wind was howling.
No sooner had he finished speaking than the blast of the storm increased to a wail, followed by a loud crack and the tearing of wood.
‘My God, did you hear that?’ Fay gasped.
Before they could answer, a huge crash rent the air, shaking the hobble and showering them with dust, gorse spines and fine snow. Shocked, they looked up to see the roof sagging down towards them.
12
As the roof slowly bounced back again, they sat in frozen silence until the building had stopped shaking. Duncan was the first to recover and he dashed out of the door, only to reappear a few moments later.
‘A large bough has broken off the old beech tree,’ he announced. ‘Unable to stand the force of the wind, I suppose.’
‘How is the roof?’ asked Fay anxiously, looking as white as the snow clinging to his coat.
‘It will survive,’ assured Duncan. ‘’Twas lucky we used the best timber rafters from the old barn when we strengthened it last year. The gorse and turf will need to be looked at when the thaw sets in, though.’
‘But is it safe? Does anything need to be done now?’ Fay asked, glaring down at her bound ankle.
‘Don’t worry, Fay, I’ll see it’s made safe. The branch has fallen onto the slope that almost reaches the ground so I can use Ben’s horse to haul it off.’
‘Can I help?’ Eliza asked, getting to her feet and shaking the debris off her clothes.
‘Best if you stay in here. No telling where the bough might land and I don’t want to have to worry about it hitting anyone. I’ll be ready for a brew when I’m finished, though,’ he added, seeing her crestfallen look.
‘And I’m to sit here like a dummy, I suppose,’ Fay said glumly.
‘Cheer up. At least it didn’t damage the chimney, otherwise I’d be taking you down to the farm before you freeze in your bed. Then you’d have the pleasure of passing the time of day with Mother Evangaline.’ Fay scowled and Eliza marvelled yet again at the way Duncan could manage her moods.
As he disappeared outside, she swung the pot back over the fire, then picked up the broom.
‘What are you doing?’ Fay grunted.
‘I thought I’d sweep some of this dust and gorse spines outside.’
‘And stir up a load more dirt besides. Best to leave that until the weather warms and you can do a thorough job. Now make yourself useful by washing some of this filth off my face and getting me up onto my chair. Can’t sit in my bed all day like some sloth, can I?’
Eliza filled a bowl with warm water and gathered up a rag. As she wiped the worst of the grime from the woman’s face, they heard sounds of banging and scraping coming from overhead. She was just washing her own face and hands when there was a whooshing sound followed by a thud as the bough slid down the side of the roof onto the ground. Then all went quiet. Trusting the removing of the branch was going well, Eliza set the pot to warm for their tea while Fay sat staring fixedly at the antlered head on the wall.
It was still some time before Duncan reappeared, wiping muck and sweat from his brow. Eliza held out a bowl of fresh water for him and while he cleaned himself up she poured their drinks. Duncan took his mug and gulped down the scalding liquid with little heed to his throat.
‘Gosh, I needed that, little un – sorry, I mean Eliza. I’ve put the bough alongside the wood store,’ he said, turning to Fay. ‘It’ll make a nice addition to your stocks when it dries out and the leaves will make a soft fragrant stuffing for your mattress come spring.’
‘Talking beds, eh?’
‘Talking beds?’ Eliza asked, looking puzzled.
‘Beech leaves whisper musically and the French call them lits de parlement, or talking beds,’ Fay explained. ‘I suppose you could say that after the cloud of dust this will be our silver lining.’ She chuckled at her little joke.
‘That’s better, Fay. You’ve got some colour in your cheeks now. I’ve put a couple of ropes over the roof to make sure nothing moves when the thaw sets in. Then I’ll go up and repair any damage. I must get going and return the horse and wagon to Ben.’
Eliza’s heart dropped. ‘Do you have to go?’ she asked.
‘Afraid so. Ben’s got stock to deliver. He’ll already be late so the least I can do is help. Anything else need bringing in before I leave?’ he asked Fay.
She shook her head. ‘We can manage now. Thanks for seeing to the roof. I’m indebted.’
‘I’ll be back for some of your wondrous cooking before long,’ Duncan said with a grin. ‘Keep those joints strapped or you’ll still be hobbling come spring. I’m sure Eliza will make sure you take your curative regularly. It’s been an eventful morning so I suggest both of you spend the rest of the day relaxing. See you soon,’ he added, turning up the collar of his coat and striding out of the door.
‘Bossy boots,’ Fay muttered, but settled back in her chair anyway. Eliza began clearing away their mugs and plates but was overcome by a wave of weariness. Noticing her yawn, Fay sighed.
‘Come and sit down, girl. They can wait. Happen it’s taken it out of both of us.’
Exhausted, they spent the rest of the day dozing by the fire. Then, not feeling up to cooking, they had a handful of oats and a hot drink to sustain them, before turning in early. Despite the moaning of the wind and an occasional creak, the roof didn’t collapse on them, as Eliza had feared, and she found herself beginning to relax for the first time since Duncan had left.
It was some days before the weather improved sufficiently for Eliza to go outside for anything other than quick visits to the earth closet or to top up their water and wood supplies. Duncan hadn’t returned and she found herself staring out of the window at frequent intervals.
As Fay’s injuries got better so did her temper, until one day when Eliza was limping towards the dresser Fay burst out laughing.
‘What are we like, Eliza? You hobbling one way and me the other.’
Eliza smiled. ‘This is what it’s like for me all the time, though. That’s why Father said I’ll never get a job or marry.’
‘Phooey!’ the woman scoffed. ‘You’re a pretty little thing now you’ve filled out a bit. Not like that bag of bones I found on my doorstep. You never did say where you were headed.’
‘Barnstaple,’ she replied.
‘Barnstaple! Why, that’s miles away from here.’
‘I was hoping to find work there but the weath
er was so bad, I lost my bearings. I had no idea I’d wandered this high up the moors.’
‘Well, if it’s work you want, there’ll soon be plenty to do cleaning this place up. Meantime you can make yourself useful preparing vegetables for our meal. There are roots in the store shed, and a drop of stew later will do us both good. I feel like a bit of sketching so you can pass me my pad on your way out.’
It was still bitterly cold outside but the wind had dropped. Although Eliza searched all around the shed, she couldn’t find any vegetables other than the onions in the gazunder. Snatching up a couple, she went back indoors.
‘I think someone must have taken the other vegetables,’ she said, putting the onions on the dresser.
‘Don’t be silly, girl. How would anyone know they were there?’
‘Well, there’s just a huge pile of earth along the back now.’ To her surprise the woman threw down her pad and roared with laughter.
‘That’s where they’re stored,’ she spluttered. ‘The soil keeps them fresh through the winter and prevents the rats and mice helping themselves to a feast.’
Eliza shuddered. ‘Why don’t you just keep them in the garden and dig them up when you need them?’ she asked, thinking it sounded like unnecessary work.
Fay snorted. ‘And you’d be able to dig them out of this frozen ground?’
‘Oh …’ she said, feeling stupid.
Sure enough the vegetables were stacked in layers beneath the earth. Having collected up carrots, turnips and potatoes in her basket, she was just replacing the soil when she felt a presence behind her. Turning slowly, she gasped. A row of eyes were glistening down at her. Then she saw they were attached to dark, furry bodies. Rats. She let out a scream.