you really think so?’ he asked, doubt furrowing his brow.
‘Of course,’ she replied, crossing her fingers and hoping hard. ‘I’ve to see this new manager of Poltesco with him tomorrow so will try and pave the way for you then.’ But the thought of facing her father must have been playing on his mind, for he didn’t even ask why she’d been summoned.
‘Best not tell anyone till I have spoken to him, though.’
‘Don’t worry, only Mammwynn knows and she can’t say anything, can she?’ Colenso chuckled. The rowan rustled harder, making her laugh even more. ‘Or perhaps she can,’ she spluttered. ‘She always said you were a devilish rascal, Kitto Rowse.’
✳
The next morning didn’t get off to a good start as Caja was sent for to help with a birthing.
‘But I ain’t been fed yet,’ her father grumbled.
‘Don’t worry, Father. I’ll see to it,’ Colenso assured him as her mamm, torn between her duties as wife and sick nurse, dithered uncertainly.
‘Best keep your news to yourself, the mood he’s in,’ she whispered.
‘But how …’ Colenso began, staring at her mamm in astonishment. Caja gestured to the ring on her finger and winked before scurrying out of the door.
On the way to the works, hurrying to keep up with her father’s long stride, Colenso waited for an opportunity to broach the subject of Kitto. Despite the damp mist that clung to her clothes, she was so happy she felt like a soap bubble ready to pop.
‘Don’t know what you’re smiling about, Colenso Carne. Being summoned before the manager ain’t nothing to be proud of. ‘Specially a new one,’ he snapped. ‘Years I’ve been trying to gain a rung up the ladder. Toiled long hours, I have, earning enough to make a better life for you and your mother.’ Colenso bit her tongue. That he earned a reasonable wage might be true, but them seeing any of it was quite another matter. Mamm was forever saying the hostelry was her father’s mistress, swallowing his money like a bottomless pit, leaving them scrimping to pay the rent man and put food on the table.
‘Ouch.’ She jumped as yet another stone stabbed her foot. As ever, a new pair of boots or at least decent soles were long overdue, for she’d long outgrown her brother’s old ones.
‘Stop wittering and get a move on, maid,’ her father snapped, glaring at her over his shoulder. It would help if he carried her laden basket, but should the thought even cross his mind, which she doubted, he would consider it beneath him. Her breath rose in little white puffs in the cold morning air as she endeavoured to keep up with him. They were joined along the way by other bleary-eyed workers carrying knapsacks over their shoulders, the scutes on their boots ringing out on the rock-strewn path as they tramped towards the mine. Some called out in greeting and Colenso waved back, but her father sullenly ignored them. Colenso sighed. Mamm was right, it certainly wasn’t the right time to tell him about Kitto.
Finally, as the straggle of workers rounded the corner, the mist lifted and they saw another schooner waiting in the bay.
‘God knows how he thinks we’ll cut enough stone to fill that. We only sent one off Sat’day,’ her father grumbled as he stamped his way down the rough track to the factory and its adjacent workings. ‘Bet he’ll dock my pay for taking you to his office, an’ all.’
‘I can go by myself,’ Colenso assured him.
‘Pah, you’re female,’ he spat. ‘What would Fenton make of that? Managers deal man to man,’ he added, squaring his shoulders.
‘Yes, Father,’ she replied, hefting her heavy basket onto the other arm as they picked their way carefully towards the office.
To her father’s annoyance, rather than be shown inside, they were told the manager was busy and they should wait.
‘Who the hell was that?’ he asked, frowning at the dapper little man who, after imparting his message, scuttled back inside leaving them shivering in the freezing cold of the early morning.
‘Costing me money, this is, Colenso,’ her father snapped, staring at the work going on around them. They’d been waiting outside for ages and Colenso’s hands were red with cold while her ears rang with the constant noise of sawing and banging. ‘I’ll dock it from your allowance,’ he growled, clamping his mouth on his pipe.
‘My what?’ she exclaimed, staring at him incredulously. But footsteps crunched on the stones behind them and he’d already turned away.
The funny little man reappeared and beckoned them into the office, almost bowing to the manager before scurrying away. As the door closed behind him, Peder’s scowl turned to a syrupy smile.
‘Good morning, Mr Fenton, sir. I have brought my dear daughter Colenso to meet you, like you asked,’ he gushed.
Henry Fenton looked up from the papers he’d been studying, a gleam sparking momentarily as his eyes drew level with Colenso’s chest. Gripping her basket tighter, she quickly looked away and stared around the room, which seemingly overnight had turned from a dingy dumping ground to a neat and tidy office. Even the windows had been wiped, although they wouldn’t stay clean for long with all the dust and grime that was constantly blown around.
‘Correction, Carne, I ordered you to bring her to see me,’ Fenton pompously pointed out, bringing her back to the present. Picking up a pen with his soft, white hands, he sat and studied them. Evidently he didn’t intend doing any manual work, Colenso thought, taking in the cut of his charcoal suit and matching silk kerchief in his top pocket. And his manners were sorely lacking too for, despite there being two other chairs, he didn’t invite them to sit.
‘I hope you are settling in …’ her father began.
‘I didn’t ask you here to talk about my well-being, rather to discuss the matter of theft from my premises,’ Fenton replied crisply.
‘I’ll have you know I am not a thief,’ Colenso cried. ‘I only took the cuttings I was told I could have.’
‘Quiet, girl,’ Peder ordered.
‘Quite, Carne. Now,’ he said turning to Colenso. ‘I’m in charge here and do not recollect giving you permission to remove anything from the premises.’ The eyes that surveyed her were as grey and forbidding as the granite cliffs. Clearly grey was his colour, she thought and would have laughed if her stomach wasn’t tying itself into knots. ‘The first thing I did when I arrived was to have all the materials checked, and it would appear there are quantities unaccounted for. Now, empty out your basket,’ he ordered, gesturing to the space in front of him. Colenso looked at her father, who shrugged. Slowly she placed the small sack of cuttings she’d collected on Saturday, plus brooches and buttons she’d recently fashioned, on the desk before him.
‘As you can see, there are only a few offcuts and trinkets …’ her father began.
‘You can go about your work now, Carne,’ Fenton cut in. ‘An important order needs shipping out tonight so you’d better look sharp. You don’t want your wages docked more than necessary, I’m sure.’
