would ever end.
✳
As the days lengthened and lightened into April, Colenso’s mood darkened until all she wanted to do was escape. She missed Kitto so much and, even using Clara’s thimble, her fingers were sore from continually pushing the needle through the thick fabric. The bolts of material that had taken over her bedroom were gradually being replaced by the finished curtains and covers, but having to measure, cut and sew at the table downstairs then take everything back upstairs again before her father came home was both tiring and time-consuming. Even though he took himself off to the alehouse each evening after supper, he still refused to have his space cluttered with cloth, as he put it.
Then one Saturday an envelope was delivered to their cottage. It was addressed in copperplate writing to Mr and Mrs P. Carne. Hardly able to contain his excitement, Peder drew out the thick card and scanned the contents, his usual scowl turning to delight.
‘Here, Mother, listen to this.’
Mr Henry Fenton requests the company of Peder and Caja Carne, along with their delightful daughter Colenso, for luncheon next Sunday 19th. The carriage will collect you at noon.
You are hereby notified that the signatory has a matter of great import to discuss.
There is no need to r.s.v.p. Your acceptance is presumed.
Henry J. Fenton
P.S. It would be greatly appreciated if the finished drapes and covers were conveyed at the same time.
‘Well, what do you think of that?’ he grinned.
‘But all the covers aren’t finished yet,’ Colenso protested. Immediately her father’s expression changed.
‘See that they are, then, or you’ll be sorry,’ he snapped, his hands going to the buckle on his belt.
‘I’ll help,’ Caja said quickly. ‘It wouldn’t do to let that nice Mr Fenton down.’ Colenso nodded gratefully, for she’d been dreading making the covers for the chamber. The very thought made her shudder.
‘Wear your low-cut top,’ Peder instructed. ‘But without that netting stuff. Makes your bos—, er, front look like a couple of caged …’
‘Father!’ Caja chided. ‘Besides, look at the state of you. You can’t go to Mr Fenton’s looking like that,’ she added, gesturing to the hole on his knee. ‘You’d best go and see Mr Tailor. Get measured up for a new pair of barrigans.’
‘I ain’t wearing no stiff moleskin,’ he protested. ‘It’s taken me years to wear these in and if you thinks I’m standing there while the old fool goes on about “fis, faps or awls”, you can think again.’
‘It’s not his fault he has a stammer, Peder. And you could help by telling him if you want a fly, flap or hole at the front so he doesn’t have to ask.’
‘Pah, I’ve a meeting to go to. Important things to discuss,’ Peder added, snatching his cap from its nail and all but running out of the door.
‘He’ll be spreading the news of our invite,’ Caja said, looking delighted at the prospect. ‘Now, what material are you using for those covers and where are they for?’ she asked, turning her attention back to Colenso.
‘Gold and it’s for the principal bed chamber,’ she muttered. ‘I’ll go and get it,’ she added, grateful for the excuse to get away from her mamm’s scrutiny. However, when she returned with the material, her mamm was still bubbling with excitement.
‘Oh my, imagine having covers of velvet on your bed,’ she gushed, running her fingers over the soft nap. She’d rather not, Colenso thought, snatching up the paper detailing the measurements.
‘He wants six identical covers made, would you believe?’
‘Six!’ Caja exclaimed, her eyes widening. ‘Blimey, maid, we’d better get stitching, there’s only a week till we go to his house.’
‘And he wants this edging added as well,’ Colenso told her, holding up a box of heavy fringing. ‘Oh, I’ll do that,’ she added quickly as her mamm began unrolling the gold material, but she was too late.
‘What’s this?’ Caja frowned, holding up lengths of thread knotted at the top.
‘They’re mine,’ Colenso replied, snatching them up.
‘But what are they for?’
‘To mark the days until Kitto returns.’ She didn’t add that it was only the removal of one each night that kept her going through the long weeks.
‘Seeing that nice Mr Fenton is more important than worrying about when your friend’s coming back.’ As eyes similar to her own stared accusingly at her, Colenso shook her head.
‘No, Mamm, you’ve got it the wrong way round. Kitto is more important than Fenton. He’ll be back for the Cuckoo Fest at the beginning of May and I intend going to it with him.’ There was a heavy silence then Caja let out a heavy sigh.
‘You’ll not get another chance to make a better life for yourself. Your father’s already pointed out the benefits of marrying nice Mr Fenton.’
‘But he’s not nice,’ Colenso protested. ‘He’s old, smells and has hands like a ferret.’
‘That’s not much to contend with when you can have a fine house, servants and no money worries. Besides, we’re relying on you to get us away from this place,’ Caja said, looking around the room with disdain. ‘What can Kitto offer you in comparison?’
‘Love and kindness for a start, but married to Father, you wouldn’t understand attributes like that,’ she cried.
‘Believe it or not your father had his moments. Shame that’s all they were,’ Caja sighed. She reached out and grasped Colenso’s hands. ‘But they don’t pay the bills, do they? You won’t get another chance like this.’
‘Aren’t you presuming an awful lot? Fenton hasn’t even mentioned marriage yet.’
‘No, but he will. And when he does, maid, best you accept. You’ve all the romantic notions a young girl has of marriage, but believe me, real life’s not like that. None of my patients can afford to settle their bills so we’ve not got the money to pay the quarter’s rent. We’re relying on you.’
Colenso stared helplessly at her mamm. She was well and truly trapped, the silk thread slowly but surely being wound ever tighter.
Despite the lavish meal, Colenso was unable to eat a thing. She’d been seated directly opposite the Ferret and each time he raised his fork to his mouth he gazed intently at her chest. Thank heavens she’d kept the spider-gauze overlay on her blouse. She winced as her father tucked into his food like a pig at a trough, while her mamm simpered down the table at Fenton.
‘Nice bit of beef this, Mr Fenton, sir,’ Peder said, looking longingly at the remains of the roasted meat
