by Linda Finlay
‘Eliza? What are you doing here?’ She turned to see Duncan appearing out of the trees behind, his hands full of dandelions and other plants. ‘Why, you’re shaking,’ he said, quickly setting them down on the ground beside her. Taking her hands in his, he rubbed them briskly until she felt the warmth returning. With her heart still beating faster than Rose’s little ormolu clock, she stared up at him.
‘Men on horses. Dashing like the devil was after them. Thought I’d be trampled,’ she gasped. A cry of hounds was followed by the sound of a horn, and Duncan smiled.
‘’Tis only the hunt, little un. Nothing to fret about, unless you’re the fox, of course.’
She glared at him. ‘That’s not nice.’
‘No, it isn’t, but some think of it as sport. When the riders ask which way the fox was heading I send them the opposite way.’
She smiled. She should have known her gentle giant wouldn’t agree with such things.
‘You all right now?’ he asked, giving her an assessing look.
‘Yes, thank you. I’d just never seen anything like that before. Were you on your way to see us?’ she asked, looking at him hopefully.
He shook his head. ‘Sorry, got curatives and elixirs to make. With so many people out of sorts after the winter, my remedies are in demand.’ He turned and picked up his plants. ‘I dare say Fay will be busy concocting her own as well. She’ll probably be glad of your help, too. Give her my love and tell her I’ll be over soon to empty the earth closet onto her vegetable plot.’
Before she could answer, he was striding down the moors, his greatcoat billowing behind like a sail on a ship. With all interest in searching for flowers gone, Eliza trudged back to the hobble.
To her surprise, Fay was sitting by the fire when she walked in. She had an old book on her lap and was screwing up her eyes as she looked down at the pages.
‘You’re back early, Fay,’ she commented, taking off her shawl and giving it a vigorous shake in the doorway.
‘Could say the same for you,’ the woman grunted. ‘And since when did we shake out our clothes before coming indoors?’
‘I got covered in clods of black mud when the hunt rode by. I’ve never heard or seen anything like it and was really frightened until Duncan explained what they were doing.’
Fay shrugged. ‘Moorland people have their own ways. Is Duncan with you then?’ she asked, looking over Eliza’s shoulder as if she expected to see him standing there.
‘No, he said he has to make his remedies and thought you’d be doing the same. He said you might need my help,’ she said, looking hopefully at Fay.
‘Can you read?’
‘Yes, I went to the charity school for mine workers’ children – when Mum could spare me, that is.’
‘Well, I do need your help, as it happens. Truth is, I’ve been seeing things a bit skewed since that fall.’
Eliza stared at Fay in alarm. ‘Have you told anyone?’
‘Stop fussing, child. In order to supplement my larder, I must make my usual seasonal curatives and need you to read out the receipts. They’re all written up but it’s essential to get the proportions right otherwise folk will be feeling down when they should be up and hurting when they should be healing.’
‘Shall I get us some luncheon first?’ Eliza asked.
Getting no answer, she turned round to find Fay slumped in the chair, her eyes firmly closed.
14
Worried that Fay was ill or worse, Eliza hurried across the room. Then, seeing the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest and hearing her gentle snores, she let out a sigh of relief. Really, she could do without any more shocks today, she thought, gently removing the book from the woman’s lap and replacing it with a sheepskin. Catching sight of the illustration on the cover of the book she began flicking through the pages. On the left-hand side of each was a delicate watercolour of a plant or herb with a short description written underneath. Then on the right was a list of ingredients followed by the receipt. Imagine being able to use plants and herbs for curing or easing all these ailments, she thought, placing it on the table and carefully running her finger down the index at the back.
It was fascinating and she was so absorbed, it took her a few moments to realize Fay had woken and was staring across the room at her.
‘Interesting, isn’t it?’ the woman asked.
‘Yes. I had no idea you could do all this,’ Eliza answered. Then a thought struck her. ‘I hope you don’t think me rude for reading your receipt book?’
Fay smiled and shook her head. ‘I’ve been watching you for some time and it made my heart glad to see you so animated. Judging by the way the fire’s gone down, you must have been studying it ever since I fell asleep.’
Eliza glanced over at the hearth in dismay. ‘Goodness, Fay, I’m sorry. I had no idea the day had got so late,’ she said, jumping up guiltily. She raked the embers until they blazed red, tossed on a couple of logs then set the pot of water over the fire to heat. ‘I’ll go and bring in some vegetables for our meal.’
‘Calm down, Eliza, we’re not in any hurry. I collected a couple of potatoes from the store when I came back and even managed to prise a couple of leeks out of the ground as well. We could fry them up with that bit of rabbit that’s left. I was intending to do so much today and yet there I go sleeping the afternoon away,’ she said, clicking her tongue in disgust. Putting a spill into the fire, she watched as it flared, then she turned and lit the candle beside her. ‘To chase away the gloom,’ she muttered when she saw Eliza’s surprised expression. ‘We’ll need the wax for our elder salve anyway. Nothing’s ever wasted here, girl. After supper we’ll look through the book and decide what receipt to use first.’
‘Can we make some of those flower essences?’ Eliza asked excitedly.
Fay shook her head. ‘It’s the wrong time of year. There’s a season for everything, Eliza, remember that. You said the hunt was out so this then is the season for curatives.’
‘Do you get paid much for them?’ Eliza asked curiously.
‘Generally, we people of the moors are cash poor so we exchange our produce and labour. I thought you realized that. Living in these wonderful surroundings brings greater satisfaction than any material goods. Thus I make my special flower essences during the right season and add these to the curatives and remedies. Then I bestow them upon the folk who have given to me over the past months.’
‘So you exist totally without money?’ Eliza stared at Fay in amazement.
‘I didn’t say that. A person still needs some income to buy commodities. It’s just recognizing who has the readies to buy. Like I said, the hunt’s been out so there are sure to be sore muscles come the morrow. They’ll be staying at the hostelry in Dulvester and no doubt making merry far into the night. Those men will pay well for salves and plaisters to ease their painful limbs along with tinctures for tomorrow’s tender heads. If fools and their money are easily parted, who are we to stand in their way?’ Fay rubbed her hands together in glee.
Eliza stared into the fire, mulling over what the woman had said. It was such a different concept from the way her parents had lived. Everyone’s very existence at South Wood relied upon wages from working in the mine, pitiful though they were.
‘Well, I don’t have a farthing to my name but if what you say is true, then by helping with the receipts I’ll be repaying you for taking me in?’ she asked.
‘Indeed, and thus you can hold your head up high. Of course, by helping with the chores you’ve already been paying your way.’
The woman
slapped down the old frying pan on the hearth and tossed in a lump of fat. As it began to sizzle, she threw in the rabbit and prodded it around. Before long the smell of frying filled the room, making Eliza’s stomach growl. Having become so engrossed in the book, she’d quite forgotten to have any luncheon.
‘Duncan said he’d be over soon to empty the earth closet,’ she said as they settled down to their meal.
‘Fine choice of subject when we’re about to eat, child,’ Fay snapped, but Eliza was used to her moods by now and kept quiet.
That evening as they pored over the receipts by candlelight, Eliza felt excitement stir inside her.
‘There are so many, how do you know which to choose?’
‘By checking what ingredients you have available. Then you need to consider the time of year and what ails folk. The cold and wet weather causes pain in joints and so we’ll need plaisters, remedies for fevers, salves for sores and infusions for general health.’
‘It all sounds fascinating. Will you teach me how to make them?’ Eliza asked, excitement rising in her chest.
‘Certainly. You can read out the receipts, then watch what I do. I have some elder buds stored and rosemary and sage oils made so we’ll make a start first thing in the morning,’ Fay said, stifling a yawn.
‘We need to get an early night then,’ Eliza said, anticipating the woman as she dragged on her greatcoat.
Whilst she paid her visit outside, Eliza stacked their dishes ready to wash in the morning, then covered the fire with blocks of peat so that it would stay in all night. She’d just set out their mattresses when Fay returned. Before long, the room was rocked by the sound of the woman’s snores but Eliza hardly noticed. With the musky, sweet smell of burning peat scenting the room, her senses reeled with excitement at the prospect of the day to come.
They began at first light. Fay’s spirits had definitely revived and she eagerly showed Eliza where her supplies were stored. Then, with equipment and ingredients set out, Fay donned an enormous apron and set to work. Anxious to help, Eliza read the receipts and watched carefully as Fay mixed and blended.
‘Can I help?’ she asked after a while.
‘You are. The best way to learn is by watching,’ the woman grunted.
Eliza read out the quantities and duly watched as Fay melted pig fat and candle wax, then stirred in elder buds.
‘Right, now we need to stir this well,’ Fay instructed. Eliza looked at the gloopy, lumpy mixture and grimaced. ‘That’s next month’s bread and butter, girl, so it’s no use you looking like that. Make yourself useful and line up those jars ready for me to spoon this in … Right, now for the rosemary,’ Fay said, picking up a flagon from the table. As she went to pour it, Eliza wrinkled her nose.
‘That smell’s too strong for rosemary,’ she said.
Fay frowned then inhaled. ‘You must have put the wrong flagon out,’ she growled, but her hand was trembling and Eliza could tell she was worried.
‘Make a start on those labels,’ Fay barked when she saw Eliza watching her.
‘Can’t I help with the mixing and making?’ Eliza asked.
‘Not today. Time is of the essence,’ she said, then chuckled. ‘Sorry, my little jest. Haven’t you learned anything this morning? Essence is what I’ve just used.’ Yes, and nearly the wrong one, Eliza wanted to say but bit her tongue. She’d expected to be more involved in the making of these magical lotions and potions but knew it would be stupid to annoy the woman.
Seeing her discontent, Fay shrugged.
‘When we have more time, I’ll show you how everything’s done. Come summer there’ll be so many flowers and herbs around, you’ll be sick of the sight of them. Now, have you finished labelling those bottles?’
‘Almost.’ She sighed, wondering how anyone could be sick of the sight of flowers. She wanted to know what they all were and how to use them. Sensing Fay’s glare, she returned to her task and was just pressing on the last label when there was a knock on the door.
As Duncan strode into the room with his disarming grin, her mood lifted.
‘Ah, the very person,’ Fay said.
‘I thought you might have some remedies for selling at the Dulvester market. I’m taking some produce of Ben’s so he’s lent me the wagon.’
‘Indeed I have,’ Fay said, gesturing to the table, which was lined with the result of their morning’s labours.
‘You have been busy,’ he said, turning to Eliza.
‘Fay made them all. I just read out the receipts and wrote the labels,’ she muttered.
‘And beautifully labelled they are too,’ he said, picking up a little bottle and studying it. ‘She’s got much neater writing than you, Fay.’
‘No need to be cheeky, whippersnapper. I suppose you want a brew and something to eat?’
‘No time, I’m afraid. I’ll pack up your wares then head straight down to Dulvester. I’ve people to see as well as going to market so I’ll be staying down there a few days.’
‘I hear the hunt’s been out. They’ll be putting up at the Horn and Stirrup Cup as usual so presumably I can leave you to do the necessary?’
‘Of course, Fay.’
‘And no taking less than top whack. Some of those ingredients are costly.’
Duncan laughed. ‘Wouldn’t dare bring anything back other than your fortune, Fay, you know that. Any provisions you need?’
‘Honey, if it’s a fair price. I used the last for the mustard and honey plaisters.’
‘Can I come with you?’ Eliza asked, suddenly feeling the need to get away from this bossy woman.
Duncan looked at Fay who clucked her tongue. ‘And set tongues wagging, young missy. I think not.’
Eliza glared at the woman.
‘Perhaps you could help me load the remedies onto the wagon?’ Duncan suggested, gathering up the bottles and jars.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, as they walked towards the fence, where the horse was tethered.
‘It’s so unfair. I wanted to help but all she let me do was read the receipts and write out the labels. Then she nearly used the wrong essence …’ Eliza burst out.
‘What! That’s not like her. And she let you read her precious receipts?’
‘She said the words have gone all skewed since her fall but I think that was an excuse not to let me help make them.’ As Duncan’s frown deepened Eliza felt her anger evaporate.
‘It’s not like Fay to admit something’s wrong either. I’ll check her out when I get back. It will have to be done subtly, though, so don’t mention you’ve said anything. See you in a few days, little un,’ he said, retrieving the last of the jars from his capacious pocket and jumping into the seat.
Watching him ride away, Eliza felt a prickle of unease. Could there really be something wrong with Fay? She’d been so bound up in her own sense of injustice, she’d paid little heed, but from now on she’d watch her like a hawk.
Fay was dozing in her chair and Eliza set about tidying the room after their morning’s work. Glancing over at the sleeping woman, Eliza felt another pang for she looked really quite old and frail. She’d just have to curb her impatience until Fay was ready to show her how to make the receipts.
‘Another day, another duty,’ Fay said, a few days later. Eliza smiled, pleased to see the woman had recovered her strength. The strained atmosphere that had persisted since Duncan’s departure evaporated like mist on the moor.
‘Now the weather’s warming nicely we need to start digging over the vegetable plot ready for Duncan to empty the earth closet when he returns. L
ots of good fertilizer there, and once the chimney’s been swept we can add the soot to the saved ashes and spread those. I love this time of year: it’s like a new start.’
Eliza was pleased harmony had been restored but thought the proposed digging of the plot sounded boring.
‘Wouldn’t you prefer me to make a start on the spring cleaning?’
Fay chuckled. ‘That can wait. We must get the ground ready for planting. You can’t eat a clean floor, now, can you?’ Eliza shook her head. ‘I know you’re impatient to start making those receipts but you only get out of the ground what you put in.’
‘Well, that’s obvious,’ Eliza giggled. ‘If you put in a leek you won’t dig up a potato, will you?’
Fay gave her a long-suffering look. ‘I was referring to the compost heap. You need to nourish the soil in order for it to produce vegetables, herbs and flowers of the highest quality. That’s the only way you can ensure the excellence of the receipts you make.’
Feeling stupid, Eliza grabbed her shawl and followed Fay outside. Digging the heavy earth was hard going and before long, she noticed Fay was struggling. Her wrist and ankle were obviously still weak, despite what she’d professed. Then Eliza saw her wince and the blood drain from her face and knew she had to say something before the woman did herself a further mischief.
‘Phew, I’m not used to this hard work,’ Eliza said, rubbing the small of her back.
Fay grunted but put her fork to one side. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a break. What do you know about herbs?’ she asked, as they put down their tools.
‘Not much really,’ Eliza admitted.
‘Well, that bush over there is the rosemary and it produces blue flowers,’ Fay explained, going over and breaking off a stem. Rubbing it between her fingers, she held her hand out to Eliza. ‘What does it smell like?’