by Linda Finlay
‘Well, there’s a turn-up for the books,’ Emily smiled as Colenso returned with the loaded tray. ‘Mrs Jeans not only paid on the spot, she wants another dress made – a fancy one for entertaining, no less. She’s brought some lovely emerald satin material and wants it trimmed with black fringing. Naturally she needs it immediate, like, so there’s more work for yer this week.’ When Colenso didn’t respond, Emily frowned. ‘Thought yer’d be pleased.’
‘I would, only Father ordered me to stay indoors for the rest of the week. I’ve to sew another top, a more appealing one this time, and make different dishes to increase my cooking skills. He says they’re too limited,’ she sighed.
‘Get away with yer. Young Kitto’s that besotted he’d think yer was appealing if yer wore yer bedcover,’ Emily grinned. ‘And I can’t imagine him complaining about your cooking either.’
‘It’s Father. He wants to impress the new works manager.’
‘Oh?’ Emily narrowed her bird-like eyes. ‘Would this be anything to do with them accusations of theft he made?’ Colenso nodded.
‘He told Father I could make it up to him by going for afternoon tea at his house. It was ghastly. Mamm simpering, Father kowtowing, Fenton gawking. And that’s not the end of it. He’s asked for me to show him the local sights on Sunday. When I started to refuse, Father told him I would. He says it’s a good opportunity.’
‘I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I’ll not lie. Always one to feather his nest at another’s expense, if yer’ll excuse me being candid, maid.’
‘But Mamm backed him up.’
‘Well, she would, wouldn’t she? I mean she might be the sick nurse and a capable one at that, but she’ll not stand up to yer father. Course, she were different before she married him.’
‘What was she like then?’ Colenso asked. Emily took a sip of her tea, a faraway look in her eye.
‘Happy, spirited, do anything for a lark,’ she said eventually. Then she grinned. ‘One day she took your mammwynn’s bloomers off the washing line and sewed up the ankles. Keren never realized till it were too late. Hopping she were, literally,’ Emily chuckled.
‘I can’t imagine Mamm being mischievous, or laughing,’ Colenso replied, her eyes widening in surprise.
‘Well, that’s the thing, see. The right man will make a woman blossom and grow, but the wrong one’ll crush the life out of yer.’ Colenso stared at her in surprise. How could someone who’d never married know about such things? ‘Seen it happen too often,’ Emily added as if guessing her thoughts. ‘So, make sure yer choose the right man.’
‘Oh, I will,’ Colenso assured her, an image of her darkhaired, treacle-eyed Kitto rising before her.
‘And if it’s who I think it is, make sure yer tell him about that outing. Honesty’s everything and it wouldn’t do for him to find out from someone else.’
‘I intend telling Kitto when I see him later. Though I can’t see him being pleased about it. Still, if I accompany Fenton this one time, I’ll surely have paid my debt for this perceived theft.’
‘Hmm, I wouldn’t be too sure,’ Emily frowned. ‘Now about that appealing top yer father expects yer to make,’ she added, stressing the word appealing. ‘Does yer have the material to make such a thing?’ she asked before taking a sip of her tea.
‘No,’ Colenso admitted, not wishing to admit what her father had suggested.
‘And did he suggest where yer might get some, by any chance?’ As the woman stared at her closely over the top of her mug, Colenso felt a flush creeping over her cheeks.
‘Thought as much.’
‘But I wouldn’t …’ she cried.
‘Don’t worry, maid. I never thought for one moment yer would.’
‘Besides, I don’t want to wear something that reveals my …’ she gestured to her chest. ‘The way Fenton gawks at it gives me the creeps.’ She leaned forward to pick up her mug and the necklace stabbed her. ‘Ouch,’ she cried.
‘What’s up?’ Emily asked, concern wrinkling her brow.
‘It’s this necklace Mammwynn gave me, it keeps digging into me.’
‘If that’s yer grandmother’s pentacle yer wearing she reckoned it always prodded her when evil threatened. Said it never lied.’
‘That’s it,’ Colenso cried. ‘She said to heed what it told me cos it never lied. So, it’s got nothing to do with my size?’
‘Yer a Cornish maid through and through, and proud of it you should be too. Yer Kitto thinks yer beautiful and so you are. He’s a good man.’ Then she became serious. ‘However, there are men who are not so honourable, and this Fenton sounds one of them. Mind yer heed that warning.’
‘But what am I to do? Father will kill me if I don’t do as he says.’
‘I’m guessing yer mamm’s no help?’ Colenso shook her head and Emily sighed.
‘A true friend to me yer grandmother was. Used to pass many an hour listening to her talking about her beloved herbs and plants. Real knowledgeable, she were, and her nettle unguent were the only thing that eased my old joints,’ she said her hand going to her hip.
‘I didn’t realize. Mamm has all her receipts so I’ll get her to look it out,’ Colenso offered.
‘Thanks, maid. Now, eat yer food while I think of a way we can outwit that old pessack.’ Colenso smiled as she picked up her bread. A rotten old pilchard described Fenton perfectly. He was ancient and probably smelled of decay, although she had no intention of getting close enough to find out. She’d just finished eating when Emily shouted, making her jump.
‘Got it, me lover. We’ll design a top that teases but protects your modesty at the same time. Now listen up, this is what we’ll do.’
✳
Dusk was falling as Colenso made her way to Mammwynn’s seat. She’d spent the day sewing the top Emily had designed for her and concocting a potage from a gaverick begged from old Mr Paul and flavoured with dried herbs. Her father hated all things crab, but he’d told her to try different things, hadn’t he? Lost in thought, she sat on the seat, the shadows lengthening around her. Surely Kitto should have been here by now?
‘Oh Mammwynn, if only you knew what’s been going on,’ she sighed. A sudden gust of wind shook the rowan branches. Unable to keep still any longer, she dropped to her knees and began tugging at the weeds that were sprouting between the plants. It was heartening to free the brave little dog violets, red valerian and yellow Alexanders that always bloomed early. Perhaps she’d pick some and make a salad with the pungent leaves. She smiled as she imagined her father’s face if she did. The work was soothing and it was satisfying to see the plot beginning to look neat and tidy again. Why, even the herbs were showing signs of new growth. Blow father and his ruling she shouldn’t get her hands dirty, she thought, staring down at her grime encrusted nails.
It had grown quite dark and still Kitto hadn’t arrived. Disappointment flooded through her. Surely, he wasn’t getting his own back for her not showing up on Sunday? The necklace stabbed her chest.
‘No, he wouldn’t do that, would he, Mammwynn?’ she murmured. The rowans waved their branches wildly, the necklace stabbed again. ‘Oh Mammwynn, I know you’re trying to tell me something, but what?’ An image of Kitto’s grim-faced determination the previous morning rose before her and she felt a frisson of fear snake through her body. Something was wrong. Shivering, she pulled her shawl tighter round her then, all thought of salad and food forgotten, she ran as fast as she could to Kitto’s hovel on the hill.
It was in darkness and, heart hammering, she banged on the door.
Chapter 7
With only the stars to brighten her way, Colenso hurried through the dark lanes, thoughts tumbling round her head like the weeds around Mammwynn’s plants. Why hadn’t Kitto turned up? Where were his mother and siblings? Why was the hovel in darkness? By the time she reached home and lifted the latch, the church clock was chiming six.
‘Where’ve you been?’ her father snarled. Still in his coat, he was sitting at the table eat
ing his supper, knapsack at his feet. ‘And what the ’ell’s this muck? Come in starving after a hard day’s work and what do I get? This gloppy gloop, that’s what.’ He lifted his bowl and for one moment she thought he was going to throw it at her. ‘You knows how I hates crab,’ he added petulantly.
‘That’s all the fishermen caught. Besides, you told me to cook something different, Father, so I did,’ Colenso retorted, her mind still on Kitto.
‘Yes, som’at fancy for when you entertains, not the guts of a gudderin’ gaverick. And a man shouldn’t have to come home to an empty house neither. Gawd knows where your mother is. Where’ve you been anyhow? I told you to stay indoors and make som’at decent to wear on Sunday.’ Colenso let his tirade wash over her as she quickly slipped her ring into her pocket before taking off her bonnet and shawl and hanging them on the nail by the door. Why he expected life to revolve around him she’d never know. And it was so cold in here. Would it have hurt him to stoke the fire? As she bent over to riddle the range, his arm snaked out and grabbed hold of her shoulder.
‘I asked you a question, maid,’ he growled. ‘And what the ’ell’s this?’ He frowned at her earth-encrusted hands.
‘I needed some air after being cooped up indoors so I went to see Mammwynn. Weeds were choking her plants and …’ she began.
‘I’ll blinkin’ choke you, girl. Didn’t I tell you to look after them hands? Mr Fenton don’t want a maid with roughened skin. He wants a lady, someone who takes care of herself and wears fine clothes. Someone he can show off when he invites his quarry-owner friends to supper.’
‘I’m not some displaying peacock,’ she snapped. His eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Get and wash them filthy mitts, then show me what you’ve sewed,’ he ordered, but Colenso was already taking herself out to the pump. If only she could take herself out of here forever.
She winced as the icy water stung like nettles. Ignoring the chill wind blowing in from the sea, she stood staring up at the star-studded heavens. What could have happened to Kitto? It was the thought of seeing him that had kept her going through the long, lonely day. And why wasn’t Mrs Rowse at home? Usually she’d be preparing supper for when Kitto returned from the works.
‘How many hands you washing?’ As her father’s strident voice reverberated across the yard, she let out a heartfelt sigh and made her way back indoors. ‘Now show me this top you’re making and it had better be good or …’ his voice trailed away as he fingered his belt.
Removing his bowl, which despite his protestations was now empty, she wiped the surface of the table.
‘Hurry along, girl, I’m already late for my appointment.’ And we all know where that is, she thought, carefully laying out the teal silk bodice she’d cut and tacked. ‘Well, I’ll be …’ her father whistled, hazel eyes gleaming in the candlelight. ‘At least you had the sense to swipe some decent stuff. He’ll go goggle-eyed when he sees you in that. Won’t be able to keep his hands off you.’ The very idea made Colenso’s stomach turn but her father was beside himself. ‘Seize the chance, maid, and you’ll be wearing finery like this all the time. A works manager be a far better catch than some apprenticed turner. Especially one with grand plans.’
‘I don’t suppose you saw Kitto today, Father?’ Colenso asked, trying to keep her voice casual.
‘So happens I did,’ he replied with a gleeful grin. ‘Got called into Fenton’s office, didn’t he? Still there when I left an’ all,’ he crowed. ‘Well, I’m off to celebrate, maid. You can tell your mother I’ll be late,’ he added, ramming his cap on his head and heading out into the night.
Colenso frowned. Why would Kitto be summoned to Fenton’s office? Had the manager worked out who’d been turning the souvenirs she’d fashioned? Or had Kitto ignored her warning and spoken to him about their relationship? He was a proud man and fiercely protective of her.
The door clattering open interrupted her musing, and her mamm scuttled in, closely followed by her brother.
‘Waited round the corner till your father disappeared into the alehouse. Couldn’t face all his questions as to why I was late,’ Caja said.
‘We’ve just come from there ourselves,’ Tomas explained. ‘A fight broke out earlier and one of the men got hurt. Only a split lip but it wouldn’t stop bleeding so I got Mamm to look at it.’
‘Oh?’ Colenso asked, her eyes widening.
‘Don’t worry, sis, no one you know,’ he winked, then looked serious. ‘Though a certain someone would do well to keep his mouth shut about his theories on how long the serpentine will last in the cities. Doesn’t do to upset this new manager. He’s got big plans and won’t let anyone get in his way.’
‘What plans?’ Colenso asked, thinking of her father’s earlier comment.
‘To expand the works further so he can supply more shopfronts and mantle surrounds to the finest stores and houses in London. He’s impatient to start straight away but it’s caused bad feeling between the quarriers and labourers,’ he said, throwing his cap on the nail next to hers then settling himself in his father’s chair.
‘Just you go and wash before you sit yourself down, Tomas Carne,’ Caja remonstrated.
‘Yes, Mamm.’ He gave a wry grin but duly got to his feet again.
‘Why has it caused bad feeling?’ Colenso asked.
‘The quarriers have been promised bonuses if they bring in larger pieces of the best-quality serpentine. One of them was boasting how much he could earn and that was it. Surprised Father wasn’t there, being as how he’s always complaining about his pay.’
‘Got his sights set on higher things, has Father,’ Caja replied, looking pointedly at Colenso. ‘Now go and wash, Tomas, so we can eat.’ Then she saw the teal top on the table and her eyes widened. ‘Nice bit of fabric, that. Glad to see you’ve taken Father’s advice,’ she winked, running her hand over the soft silk. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got a spare bit for me?’ Colenso shook her head.
‘Emily kindly gave me enough material to make myself a decent top. In return I’m to help her with the new orders she’s received.’
‘Decent?’ Caja hooted. ‘That’ll send old Fenton’s pulse racing like one of them steam trains.’ Seeing the look in her mamm’s eye and not wishing her to see what else she’d been working on, Colenso quickly folded the material back in the brown paper. As she was putting it away in the dresser, she remembered something Kitto had said the previous day.
‘You promised to let Mrs Rowse know I wouldn’t be able to meet him last Sunday, but Kitto never got any message, Mamm.’
Caja slapped her hand to her forehead. ‘Why, in all the excitement of meeting Mr Fenton, I clean forgot. I am sorry,’ she said, sounding anything but. Clearly she would have to make her own arrangements in future, Colenso thought, vowing to see Kitto before the weekend.
However, much to her disappointment, as she was stealing out of the cottage early the following morning, her father caught her by the arm.
‘Sneaking off, was you? And what’s this?’ he hissed, trying to wrench the ring from her finger. ‘Give it here, now.’ Glowering, he held out his hand and Colenso knew she had no choice but to give him the ring. She watched in despair as he hurled it into the distant bushes where there was no chance of her ever finding it.
‘Try leaving again before Sunday and you’ll feel this like never before, defiant wench,’ he shouted, cracking his belt in front of her face. ‘It’s your mother’s fault for not being strict enough, so disobey again and she’ll get it too, understand?’
Hearing a squeak and seeing her mamm’s frightened face peering down the stairs, Colenso knew she had little choice.
✳
That Sunday, having suffered the agony of sleeping with her hair in rags, Colenso was made to follow the same bathing ritual as before. Then, feeling the need for as much protection from Fenton’s leers as possible, she let the curls tumble around her shoulders. However, her mamm, anxious to keep her husband happy, was having none of it.
‘Come he
re, Colenso. A lady doesn’t wear her hair down,’ Caja tutted, grabbing the brush and coiling her tresses artfully into a knot at the nape of her neck. ‘Now, go and get changed. It won’t do to keep Mr Fenton waiting.’
Reluctantly, Colenso went upstairs and donned her new top, smoothing it down over her everyday skirt for there was no way she could afford a new one. Still, she doubted Ferret Fenton would look low enough to notice. Checking her appearance in the fly-spotted mirror, she saw luminous dark eyes staring back from a white, pinched face. The teal of the top suited her colouring and at any other time she’d have been thrilled to be wearing it. However, the prospect of having to spend the afternoon with a fusty old ferret made her stomach turn. But neither did she relish the idea of being thrown in gaol, she thought, throwing on the shawl she’d smuggled upstairs earlier.
‘Hurry up, maid. Mr Fenton’ll be here d’reckly,’ her father bellowed, but Colenso waited until she heard the trap pull up outside before descending the stairs.
‘Oh, Colenso, you can’t wear that old thing,’ Caja cried, tugging the shawl from her shoulders. There was a stunned silence as her parents stared at her in dismay.
‘What the ’ell you done with that top? You can’t see them …’ her father finally spluttered, waving his hand in front of her.
‘A lady should never reveal too much flesh, Father,’ Colenso replied sweetly. How clever it had been of Emily to suggest adding an overlay of spider-gauze edged with lace to the silk bodice. ‘Now, if you give me back my shawl, I’ll be on my way. You don’t want me catching a chill, do you?’ she asked. Reluctantly her mamm handed back the shabby garment, sighing loudly as Colenso knotted it tightly round her neck. Then, heedless of the fancy hairstyle, Colenso rammed her bonnet on her head and strode out of the door. If she had to go through with this farce, she’d at least be closeted in as many clothes as possible.
‘Colenso, my dear,’ Fenton smiled, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. ‘Allow me,’ he added, holding out his hand to help her up.