style="font-size:15px;"> ‘He won’t,’ Caja replied sadly. ‘He’s lodging over Ruan side, but don’t tell your father.’
✳
The next morning, Colenso waited until her father had left the cottage, then took one of the bolts downstairs, unfolded a length of red velvet and spread it across the table.
‘Oh Mamm, this velvet’s so thick, there’s no way my scissors will cut through it neatly,’ she frowned, running her hand over the plush pile. ‘I’ll call on Emily and see if she can help.’ Caja looked up from the pot she was cleaning.
‘I’ll probably be out when you return. Mrs Pascoe’s rheumatics are playing up again and I promised to drop by with some nettle unguent.’
‘That reminds me, I promised Emily some,’ Colenso said, throwing her shawl around her shoulders.
‘That’s all we’ve got. I’ll need to look out the receipt to make some more,’ Caja told her, taking the last two pots from the drawer and handing one over.
‘I’ll gather more nettles later,’ Colenso promised, eager to have an excuse to spend some time in the fresh air.
Outside, the wind almost blew Colenso off her feet. March was certainly roaring through like a lion, she thought, hurrying down the lane. She could hear the waves crashing onto the beach where the boats were drawn up. There’d be no fishing today, she thought making her way through the village to Emily’s cottage.
‘Oh, ’tis yer, is it?’ the woman snapped, giving her a gimlet stare through the half-opened door. ‘Surprised yer had the cheek to show yer face.’
‘I brought that unguent I promised you,’ Colenso told her.
‘Think that’ll salve yer conscience?’ the old woman glared. ‘Years it took Clara and me to build up our little business and now I hear yer doin’ yer best to steal it, right from under me own eyes.’
‘Oh no, Emily, you’ve got it all wrong,’ Colenso began, her hand going to her bonnet as another easterly gust threatened to send it flying.
‘Yer mean there weren’t no fine carriage unloading half a warehouse of plush velvet at yer door?’ Colenso shook her head as understanding dawned. The gossipers had been at it. ‘Well, were ther or weren’t ther?’ Emily persisted.
‘Yes, there was, but the material is for those drapes and covers Fenton wants making. I showed him your samples but he insisted on purchasing his own fabric from a merchant in Falmouth.’
‘Well, why didn’t yer say,’ the woman cried. ‘And why are yer standing ther letting all my warmth out?’ she asked, stepping back so Colenso could enter.
‘Hi, Colenso,’ a cheery voice greeted her from the front room, where a fire was glowing in the grate.
‘Alys, what are you doing here?’ she cried delightedly. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve heard from Kitto?’
‘No, but we don’t expect to, this is his big chance so he’ll be busy, won’t he? Anyhow, London’s like another country, isn’t it? I’m helping Auntie Em ’til I start at the manor,’ Kitto’s sister replied, holding up a length of material. ‘Isn’t it exciting?’
‘Yer won’t think so if yer don’t get that seam finished,’ Emily chided before turning back to Colenso. ‘Guessed yer be too busy to help and I got to keep my customers happy.’
‘I’m sorry but I really don’t think I’ll have any time for anything other than sewing all those drapes and covers for the Ferret.’
‘Who’s the Ferret?’ Alys asked, looking at Colenso curiously.
‘None of yer business, young lady,’ Emily told her. ‘And remember, yer on trial.’ The sober words jolted Colenso back to the present. She really needed to get on with her work or she might still find herself on trial yet. Setting the little pot of ointment down on the table along with the samples, she turned to Emily.
‘The material Fenton’s bought is so thick my small scissors won’t cut through it.’
‘So even though yer don’t have an order to place with me, yer expecting me to help?’ Emily asked, shaking her head so that silver tendrils bobbed under her cotton cap. Colenso stared at the floor. ‘Don’t fret yerself, maid, cors I’ll help. Did he buy tape for the hooks to hang by?’
‘I hadn’t even thought of that, but no, he didn’t.’
‘So, we can still make som’at from him, then,’ Emily grinned. ‘What about thread?’ Colenso shook her head. She’d been so overwhelmed by the amount of cloth delivered, she hadn’t thought beyond cutting it to size.
‘I’ll be needing burgundy red, emerald green and gold.’
Emily stared at her thoughtfully then bustled over to the cupboard in the corner of the room. ‘Here, you might as well have this,’ she said, handing Colenso a large wicker basket.
‘But that was Clara’s workbox,’ she protested.
‘And she’d be pleased for yer to have it,’ Emily said, her eyes suspiciously bright. ‘Go on, take it afore I change my mind. Yer’ll find everything you need in there. Prided herself on keeping a goodly supply of everything, Clara did.’
‘Oh Emily, thank you,’ Colenso cried, leaning forward and kissing the old woman’s paper-thin cheek.
‘Get away with yer,’ Emily protested. ‘Just remember to cost yer time and charge Fenton well for that tape and thread. Yer can pay me back when he settles up.’
✳
As March continued roaring its way through the rest of the month, Colenso sewed like a woman possessed, completing curtain after curtain according to the measurements Mrs Grim had provided, before making a start on the chair covers. To her delight but her father’s chagrin, there had been no further communication from the Ferret. Thank heavens for small mercies, she thought, stabbing her needle viciously through the material. Although she tried not to dwell on their last meeting, images of him advancing, paw-like hands outstretched, continued to plagued her. Although she didn’t know how, she was certain it was Mammwynn’s pentacle that had saved her.
‘It’s been over three weeks since you last saw Fenton,’ Peder moaned, over supper that evening. ‘He don’t even stop and speak at work no more.’ Hardly surprising, Colenso thought, remembering how Kitto had told her Peder had tried to get Tomas fired. That he could do such a thing to his own son was despicable, yet not wishing to enrage her father, she held her tongue.
‘You did say he was sorting out that dispute at the works cos the owner’s coming to look over them next month,’ Caja ventured.
‘True, and I’m sure he’ll introduce me to him. Me being one of his key workers an’ all that,’ Peder crowed, puffing out his chest. Colenso stared at her father in astonishment. Only he would have the gall to consider himself important enough to be introduced to the owner.
‘What you staring at, maid?’ he asked, turning on Colenso. ‘If you’ve done som’at to put Fenton off, I’ll …’ his voice trailed off, his fingers
