Midsummer Dreams at Mill Grange

by Jenny Kane

  ‘I apologised to him for my rant yesterday. He was very good about it.’

  ‘Will you apologise to the others?’

  ‘Derek has already congratulated me on my dragon slaying, so I think he’s fine with it. I’ll try and see Diane later, then talk to the others at tonight’s meeting. Can you email everyone to check who is coming?’

  ‘No problem. What time? Seven?’

  ‘Perfect.’ Thea regarded the heap of paper on the desk. ‘I should have shifted this lot by then. Honestly, when am I supposed to get some actual restoration done?’

  ‘What is all that?’

  ‘Some of it is quotes for work on the house, but a surprising amount is applications from schools for trips in the future and stuff like that.’

  Tina’s face burst into its missing grin. ‘But that’s fantastic. We can start to take bookings and charge a holding deposit. If Malcolm is insisting we get Mill Grange to pay its way, then this is a way to start doing just that.’

  ‘There’s no way we’ll make the £35,000 deficit he was talking about by booking a few school trips.’ Thea grimaced. ‘If only Malcolm was definite, one way or the other, about the sale. I think we have to assume the house won’t be with the Trust by the end of the summer? How can we take a deposit for something that might be cancelled?’

  ‘Won’t it be harder to sell the house if we have loads of event bookings in place?’

  Thea laughed. ‘You’re a devious woman, Tina Martin.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Tina raised her mug in salute. ‘Shall I draw up a visitors’ pre-booking agreement form?’

  ‘Please.’ Thea’s conscience pricked her palms. ‘But make sure it states that if unforeseen circumstances occur, their money will be refunded.’

  ‘I will, but I’ll say that only 50 per cent of the money will be refunded. If I make it clear there’s a risk from the start, then it’s up to them if they go ahead and book.’ Seeing Thea’s uncertain face, Tina added, ‘We need the funds. This isn’t for us, it’s for the local community.’

  ‘Agreed. As long as it’s clear that we aren’t trying to con anyone. Goodness knows the local schools don’t have money to waste either.’ Thea re-read the note from Mabel. ‘How many volunteers will this make if Mabel’s latest recruit joins us?’

  ‘Eighteen regulars plus the three students helping Derek with clearance until their university term re-starts and… hang on…’ Tina rifled the papers on her side of the table. ‘From 18th June the students we have now are coming back until we’re done, and they are bringing another four with them.’

  Thea picked up one of the photographs of the house she had on her desk. It was of Mill Grange in 1882. There was a splendour about the house which shone out of the sepia colouring. A carriage was parked outside its front door. A proud if somewhat puffed-up groom held the horse as Lord and Lady Upwich posed by the carriage door.

  ‘I wonder how long they stood there before that photograph was captured.’

  ‘Anything up to four hours, probably.’ Tina glanced up from her laptop screen. ‘I’m surprised there isn’t a pile of dung steaming beneath the horse.’

  Thea chuckled, ‘I bet there was a stable lad just out of view, ready to dash in with a shovel.’

  Seeing the wistful expression on her friend’s face as she stared at the photograph of Mill Grange in its heyday, Tina said, ‘We can do this. We can save Mill Grange from being sold.’

  ‘Can we?’

  ‘It won’t be easy, but despite any differences we have with one or two of the volunteers, we all have one aim in mind. To get Mill Grange manor house open to the public. To get it up and running.’

  Thea nodded. ‘You’re right.’

  ‘It happens occasionally.’

  ‘More than occasionally.’ Thea pulled her clipboard closer. ‘Time we stopped with the negative.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘Okay, time I stopped being negative. Every major restoration project has problems. We’ve just had ours all in one go, avalanche style.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Pulling her old lists from the clipboard, Thea dropped them in the recycling box. ‘New list for new time schedule.’ She grabbed a pen. ‘We’re lucky in that the building is structurally sound. The lion’s share of the deep cleaning has been done, and the house retains much of its original possessions, albeit with an accompanying hint of vinegar.’

  Eagerly Tina added, ‘Once we’ve cleared your bedroom and emptied this place – because people always like poking about in the scullery – cleaned and made up all the beds, we’ll be able to arrange the furniture as we see fit. Then the inside of the house will be good to go.’

  ‘Apart from information boards or folders.’ Thea wrote ‘info boards’ on her new list. ‘Sam is already producing miracles in the garden and Derek and team are clearing the ground that has been blocking the way to the kitchen garden at quite a pace.’

  ‘Are you hoping to grow things in the garden? If so, Sam said we need to plant out ASAP. It’s already too late for some things.’

  ‘You are getting on with Sam then?’

  ‘I thought you’d given up on the matchmaking.’ Tina kept her focus on the school trip agreement she was mocking up. ‘I told you, he is not my type and I’m certainly not his.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘I do. The garden. Do you want vegetables planted?’

  ‘We won’t be cooking here, so is it worth it?’

  ‘We could sell the produce?’

  ‘Then let’s get planting.’ Thea added ‘price seedlings’ to her list. ‘Can you ask Sam if he knows where to get seeds from and if he’ll supervise the sowing?’

  ‘Only if you promise to quit the romance hints.’

  ‘Deal. But only if you give me all the gory details about Mr Silver Fox later.’ Thea got to her feet. ‘Right now, I’m going to the mill. I want to see if we can use it to help earn money to save the manor, or if I should endorse the trustees’ idea of selling it off.’

  Tina winced. ‘I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to that. It seems criminal to split the buildings. I had considered suggesting we open the mill as a demonstration space.’

  ‘Likewise.’ Thea pulled her old khaki jacket over her shoulders. ‘We could have had spinning displays and so on. But, if we need to reduce our budget then, as the mill isn’t physically attached to the house, it seems the obvious place to start cutting.’

  ‘Shame though, especially with so many of the villagers’ ancestors having worked there.’

  Thea scooped up her clipboard. ‘I’m going to re-examine every part of the project and start again, as if this is a brand new assignment. Hopefully we can do something with the mill, but as the millwheel doesn’t exist anymore, and the water course which drove it has long since dried up and been filled in, I’m not optimistic.’

  As she made ready to leave, Thea’s eyes caught the note Mabel had left. ‘Oh damn, I’d forgotten about the new volunteer.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll do the honours if he shows up again today.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘No problem. Everyone Mabel has drummed up so far has been pretty reliable. Ancient, but reliable.’

  *

  During the half-mile walk to the mill, Thea’s mind teemed with ideas. Tina had done it again. Her natural rebound view of life had got Thea thinking positively. A desire to achieve the impossible sped her footsteps.

  As soon as she was free from Mill Grange’s driveway and pacing towards the mill itself, her phone burst into life, startling a tree full of crows that’d been peacefully admiring the view.

  ‘What did the trustees say?’ Shaun didn’t waste time introducing himself.

  ‘Oh hello, I had calling you on my to-do list.’

  ‘I’m honoured.’

  He didn’t sound honoured, he sounded offended, and Thea realised she’d probably made him sound rather less important than de-cobwebbing the scullery. ‘My apologies, Mr Cowlson. It’s been a b
it of a day so far. Again.’

  ‘Shaun, please.’

  ‘Shaun.’ Thea’s stomach chose that moment to growl in protest that she hadn’t fed it since a rushed bowl of cereal several hours ago.

  ‘Was that you?’

  Thea found herself apologising again. ‘I haven’t had the chance to eat yet.’

  ‘Let me take you to lunch. I’m in the pub now.’

  So much for keeping a low profile. Feeling she ought to offer an olive branch, she said, ‘You’re very kind, but it’s rather late for lunch and I’ve a great deal to do. I wondered if you were free, whether you could come to a group meeting at the manor tonight.’

  ‘Of course. What time?’

  ‘Seven.’

  ‘I’ll be there.’

  ‘Are you staying at the Stag and Hound?’ Thea didn’t want him to think she was too interested, but at the same time thought she ought to know where their token celebrity was staying.

  ‘I am, but don’t worry. The landlady is sworn to secrecy. I’m enjoying a little anonymity in my room.’

  Cross with herself for misjudging him again, Thea found herself saying, ‘I’m on my way to check out the old mill, so you’d be very welcome to join me if you can sneak out in disguise.’

  Fifteen

  April 9th

  Thea stood outside the large rectangular building, a quarter of a mile from the manor, and checked the photocopy of the original village plan on her clipboard.

  The mill, not large compared to the majority of such buildings from the Industrial Revolution, ran the equivalent length of four terrace houses. Ahead of Thea, stretched out in a curved but linear row, was the village of Upwich itself. At the far end of the village, she could see the sign for the Stag and Hound pub swinging in the afternoon breeze. There was no sign of Shaun walking up the sloping road past the double-sided row of cottages which had once been homes for the woollen mill workers.

  Extracting the massive ring of keys from her pocket, Thea unlocked the double doors that had once opened onto the main part of the factory. Despite the lock being released, it still took four hefty tugs before the doors finally unstuck from their surround and allowed her to enter the mill. The smell of damp hit Thea at the same time as a cloud of dust attacked her nostrils, temporarily disabling her with a sneezing fit that made her throat dry and her eyes water.

  Heading straight back outside, she took a lungful of fresh air. As Thea held onto the door she noticed that the metal casing around the inside lock had buckled. Opening the door wider, she knelt to examine the keyhole. It wasn’t just rusty; the right side had been snapped away, as if something had collided with it at some point. Trying the key on the locks inside, Thea found it was useless. Her keys would let her into the mill, but not out again.

  Feeling around the edge of the door, Thea could see why it had been so hard to open. Sticky with lack of use, it needed a sand and repaint as a matter of urgency. Writing ‘see to doors and lock ASAP’ to the top of her mill to-do list, Thea propped the door open with a brick from a discarded pile of masonry outside the door and turned to face the building’s interior.

  As the dusty haze cleared, Thea saw she’d walked straight into an industrial-scale collection of spider webs and trapped balls of dust. She couldn’t begin to guess how long the mill had been left undisturbed but for mice, insects and arachnids.

  Telling herself there was nothing here that a good sweeping out and airing and some humane mouse traps couldn’t cure, and thanking her lucky stars she wasn’t afraid of spiders, Thea allowed her eyes to adjust to the gloom. ‘No wonder the volunteers have concentrated on the manor.’

  ‘Absolutely!’

  Thea almost jumped out of her skin as Shaun arrived behind her. ‘Bloody hell, Shaun! You could have called out or something. You scared me half to death.’

  ‘Sorry. I’m always being told off for that.’ Grinning unapologetically, Shaun pointed to his boots. ‘Soft treads for wearing on excavation. Great for not damaging the ground, but silent for moving about.’

  ‘So I see, or hear – or don’t hear rather.’

  ‘Did you see the inside of the door? Looks like someone had to break out of here at some point.’

  ‘I did, that’s why I propped it open. With that, and the edges of the doors being so sticky, I thought they might be hard to reopen from the inside. It hadn’t occurred to me that someone might have broken out rather than in though.’

  ‘I might be wrong of course, but it had that feel to it. Any record of fires or incidents here where employees had to force their way out?’

  ‘Not that I’ve found.’ Thea frowned as she looked back at the damaged lock. ‘I’ll have a dig through the archives when I have time.’

  ‘Did you know you had a major cobweb network on top of your head?’ Unbidden, Shaun reached out, teasing the silken construction from her hair.

  Thea’s brain told her feet to move away, but her body was too busy reacting positively to Shaun’s feather-like touch as he gently worked away the silken threads from her hair.

  As common sense won over sensation, Thea stepped backwards. Hoping she didn’t look as embarrassed as she felt, she said, ‘Oh don’t worry. I’m always covered in some mess or other.’ She roughly scrubbed a palm through her hair.

  ‘I bet.’ Shaun didn’t appear the least put out that she’d moved away. ‘Occupational hazard.’

  Holding her clipboard like a shield, Thea said, ‘These are the original plans. This room was where the giant loom was kept, so in there—’ she pointed to a set of closed double doors to their left ‘—must have been the carding room.’

  Shaun followed as Thea, bracing herself to be showered with a new coating of dust, levered open the left-hand door, while Shaun took the right one.

  Wiping his grubby palms down his trousers, he strode into the slightly smaller space. ‘I’m assuming the carding machine would have stood in the middle here, while the fleeces would have been piled up at the back.’

  ‘According to the records the fleeces were washed and scoured of their lanolin in the larger of the two sheds outside. Then, in the other shed the clean fleece was scribbed before outworkers collected it to be combed and carded into rovings.’

  ‘Scribbed and rovings?’ Shaun frowned.

  ‘Scribbed is when the fleeces were torn up into workable pieces, while the rovings are the resulting long strips of wool which were ready for spinning.’

  ‘Was most of the work done beyond the factory? It doesn’t feel big enough in here to hold all the people required to complete the entire job?’ Shaun outstretched his arms and circled on the spot as if trying to get a mental idea of space.

  Thea looked away as Shaun’s shirt tightened against his chest while he spun around. Of course he’s got muscles; he spends his life on excavation. Get a grip, woman.

  Her words kept coming, even though her emotions had inconveniently chosen that moment to remind her how long it had been since she’d had a boyfriend. ‘It was a real cottage industry. Most of the homes in Upwich housed at least one wool worker, if not a whole family of them. There was a water-powered spinning mule on the right side of the main shed and a loom on the other, but otherwise there were several hand-powered machines which drew out and twisted the individual wool fibres, locking them together to produce a thread known as a single. I’m guessing these must have been used in the sheds outside or, in the case of the most trusted workers, in their homes.’

  ‘I honestly haven’t heard of machines being placed in people’s homes before. We’ll need to check on that. Could be true or it could be village legend.’

  Not missing the use of the word ‘we’, Thea agreed.

  ‘You said about individual wool fibres locking together to produce threads.’

  Shaun stared at the space where the mule would have waited, hungry for its constant diet of treated fleece. ‘Would that have been strong enough to weave with?’

  ‘No, the single threads then had to be plyed – which mea
ns they were reverse twisted. That process turned the single threads into a more stable yarn to be wound onto bobbins or quills so that cloth could be woven on the mule.’

  Strolling back into the main factory space, Shaun studied the floor space. ‘It would have been cramped with two machines in here, not to mention noisy.’

  ‘Unpleasant working conditions to say the least.’

  ‘Can you imagine how cramped the cottages were with their main rooms taken over by hand carding, spinning and weaving?’

  ‘Plus the stench of lanolin and sheep in the houses where the outworkers who did the roving lived.’

  ‘I bet the whole village had a miasma of dead sheep, sweat and beer.’

  ‘Beer?’ Thea caught Shaun’s eye and immediately looked away again as her nervous system relived the sensation of his fingers in her hair.

  ‘I’d put money on the first thing the male workers did after work being to spend some of their hard-earned wages on a pint at the pub. Moira, the landlady at the Stag and Hound, was giving me a potted history of the place earlier. The current pub is built on the site of an older one. It was updated in 1842 specifically to serve the growing number of mill workers.’

  ‘Steady trade.’ Thea peered up at the grey ceiling, which was built at one level across most of the building, only to slope upwards to the far right towards the wheelhouse. ‘The wheel would have been in there then.’ She walked to the right side of the spinning room and unlocked the final set of double doors.

  This time they were greeted by a taller narrow room, holding little but a deep pit and a wrought iron staircase which no longer had anywhere to run to. The rusted metal fixings that once supported the wheel were the only indicators of how large the wooden structure must have been. There was just enough space around the edge of the room for a few workers to move around the water trough.

  Shaun ran a hand over the chipped staircase. ‘You can just imagine it, can’t you, all black-leaded and gleaming. The wheel turning, the water rushing below.’ He paused. ‘The water course was filled in when? Do we know?’

  ‘As soon as the mill was abandoned in 1888. It was too small to compete with Coldharbour Mill in nearby Uffculme, not to mention the mills in Exeter and Somerset being built in places where they could expand as necessary. There’s no way you could expand without impacting on the manor grounds. I doubt the family would have wanted to do that.’