CHAPTER 28

‘Hush, Lily dear.’ As the softly spoken words penetrated her fuddled brain, she opened her eyes to find herself staring into the face of her employer.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Bodney. I thought you were someone else,’ she muttered, embarrassed.

‘Evidently, my dear, and after my discussion with Lady Clinsden yesterday I think I know whom.’

‘Oh,’ she whispered. Then, realizing what Mrs Bodney had said, her eyes widened in alarm and she struggled to sit up. ‘Yesterday?’ she repeated.

‘Yes, it’s Monday morning, Lily. I sent Tilda up earlier with some broth, but she couldn’t rouse you. The silly girl thought you were dead and came crying to me. Clearly, thank heavens, you are not. However, since you didn’t wake to eat your broth, your body must be in need of nourishment. I suggest you change your dress and then come down to the parlour.’

‘But my work …’ Lily tried to protest, but she was feeling light-headed, almost as if she was floating.

‘No buts. Tilda has laid out a clean dress, and your new work boots are ready,’ she said, gesturing to the shiny black hobnailed boots by the chest. ‘And not a moment too soon,’ she added, shaking her head at the salt-encrusted pair beside the bed. Even Lily could see they could no longer be worn.

When Mrs Bodney had left, Lily gingerly clambered out of bed. She stared down at her crumpled dress and groaned. Not only had she not woken in time for work, she’d gone to bed without undressing. Mrs Bodney would never put up with an overseer who had such slovenly ways. She sank back onto the mattress, covering her face with her hands. If she lost her job, she’d have no home. Tom; she’d go to Tom. Then she remembered his bitter outburst, and the tears fell.

Peasants aren’t pessimists, Lily. They don’t give up; they get on.

She heard her father’s voice in her ear and warmth crept through her body like a burst of sunlight. He hadn’t deserted her, after all.

‘You are right, Father, and I will,’ she whispered, getting determinedly to her feet. Stepping into her new black leather boots, she smiled. They fitted perfectly, and although they were sturdy and not a bit like the dainty ones with cherry-red stitching she felt a bubble of excitement inside that they were brand new and she could wear them every day.

Minutes later she was in the parlour, dressed and tidied. Mrs Bodney nodded down at her feet. ‘At last you look worthy of the post of overseer.’

‘You must tell me what I owe, Mrs Bodney, for I do have some savings put by.’

‘We will talk about that some other time, Lily. Now we have business to attend to.’

‘I’m very sorry for not waking at dawn, especially with the deadline …’ She stuttered to a halt as the other lady held up her hand, then pointed to the steaming bowl and chunk of bread on the table beside her.

‘First you must eat. I shall go and check that the ladies are all present, and when I return we will talk.’ As her employer bustled from the room, the fragrant aroma of vegetable broth wafted in Lily’s direction. She picked up the spoon and ate ravenously. By the time Mrs Bodney returned, her bowl was drained.

‘Feeling better?’

‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Bodney. I’m ready to work like ten men, well, women. That is, if I still have a job?’ she asked, hardly daring to look up.

‘Yes, you do for I understand you needed to ensure Tom had returned safely. Now, we must discuss our schedule. I’ve been informed that the silk for Her Majesty’s dress is nearing completion and that she will require all the lace not only made but to be sewn up and ready by the 25th of November.’

‘St Catherine’s Day,’ Lily said.

Mrs Bodney smiled ruefully. ‘I can’t deny it’s appropriate, what with her being the patron saint of lace makers. However, whilst we’ve finished making the lace for the flounce, we still have the veil and other adornments to finish, plus the Bertha collar, of course. Then it will all require sewing up and attaching to the netting. Being positive, the designs of tulips, leaves and scrolls left to make will be the same only smaller and, as Cora has seen fit to return, we have an extra pair of hands.’

‘You’ve taken her back?’ Lily asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

‘I had little choice. We mustn’t look a gift pony in the mouth, as they say. Now before you resume your duties, tell me how Tom is.’

‘He … well, I … that is, I really need to speak to him.’

‘Hmm,’ her employer said, giving her a penetrating look. ‘What about the squire? Have you ever complained about his behaviour towards you?’ Mrs Bodney asked. Lily stared at the other woman in surprise.

‘The likes of me are hardly in a position to complain about the squire, Mrs Bodney. He would make my life a misery …’ Her voice tailed off. Surely her employer knew that peasants were in no position to complain.

‘Well,’ Mrs Bodney said, pursing her lips, ‘as Lady Clinsden is fond of saying, there’s more than one way to skin a cat.’ Blimey, there was that cat again, Lily thought.

‘Right, Lily, it’s time you got back to the workroom. I want you to encourage the ladies to work as fast as they can without compromising the quality of their work. You also need to make up for the time you’ve lost on your own work so I’m sure I can trust you will not leave here until it is back on schedule.’

Relieved she still had her job, Lily nodded. But as her employer left the parlour, she couldn’t help wondering when she’d be able to see Tom. For see him she must, and very soon.

As Lily entered the workroom, the ladies looked up from their pillows, hardly able to contain their curiosity. As ever, though, it was Mary who spoke.

‘Morning, Lily; here, I’ll move and let you have your rightful place.’ But as the woman struggled to get to her feet, Lily noticed she had a large bandage covering the lower part of her leg.

‘What’s the matter with your ankle, Mary?’ she asked.

‘Oh, ’tis nothing,’ the other woman answered, shrugging.

‘She tripped going after you in that murk,’ Nell burst out, ‘and you didn’t even stop to see if she was all right.’

‘Hush now, Nell,’ Mary admonished.

‘Well, I think it was right selfish of her leaving you like that,’ spluttered the normally mild Nora.

‘But I didn’t know …’ Lily began, shaking her head.

‘Course you didn’t, Lily, don’t worry yourself. You was in a hurry to make sure your Tom and the fleet came home safe. And they all did, thank the Lord,’ Mary said, making the sign of the cross in front of her.

Hearing Tom’s name, Lily felt a pang and was torn between duty and desire. However, desperate as she was to see him, she knew she had to produce some work before she could even think of leaving the workroom or she’d be out on the street, sure as sprats were sprats. Mrs Bodney would only tolerate so much.

‘Thanks, Mary. I really am sorry about your ankle, though, and I hope it’s not too painful.’

‘I’ve suffered worse.’ But as the woman sat there smiling ruefully, Lily remembered that in her desperation to get to the harbour she had pushed past Mary on the front steps.

‘Oh, Mary, tell me it wasn’t because of me you fell?’ she asked, taking the woman’s hand.

‘Dearie me, no, Lily,’ Mary answered, looking quickly away.

Not convinced the other woman was telling the truth, but at a loss to know what to do, Lily shrugged, saying, ‘Well, I’m sorry if it was because of me. I feel dreadful that I didn’t know you’d fallen. Has everything else been all right?’ she asked, looking anxiously at the woman.

‘Yes, I think so. We’ve been working that hard since Mrs Bodney poked her head in this morning,’ she said, then pointed to the sprigs heaped on the dresser. ‘At least we are onto the smaller pieces now.’

‘That’s as may be,’ Emma piped up, ‘but do you know how many we need?’

‘Mrs Bodney is very pleased with your work but we are under even more pressure as the Queen now wants her lace delivered earlier than originally planned,’ Lily told them.

A groan went round the workroom but they knew they were being paid well and bent their heads over their pillows.

‘I’m sure it will be worth it when we see the Queen in all her finery,’ Lily said, smiling.

‘As if that’s likely to happen,’ Cora snorted.

‘It’ll only be Mrs Bodney who’ll get to see her on her wedding day,’ Nell said, shaking her head. The others murmured in agreement. Realizing she’d inadvertently distracted them from their work Lily bowed her head over her pillow and hoped they’d follow her example. Luckily they did, and silence descended on the room.

As her movements gained pace, so did her thoughts. When would she see Tom? Would he forgive her for the terrible things she’d said? Maybe it was exhaustion that made him speak to her so harshly yesterday. In her heart, though, she knew she’d wronged him terribly, for hadn’t he always told her that trust was at the heart of a relationship?

‘Ooh, me stomach thinks me throat’s cut.’

Jolted from her musing, she looked up to see Cora running her hand across her throat, clearly intent on letting Lily know it was time for their break. Despite her worries, she couldn’t help but be amused at the girl’s theatrics; obviously she was back to normal, Lily thought, feeling strangely relieved. Quickly, she got up and rang the little bell.

As the ladies eagerly hurried out into the sun-filled courtyard, Lily let out a sigh. The urgent need to see Tom was gnawing away at her like a terrier tormenting a rat. Did she dare risk leaving the workroom now, whilst the ladies were having their nuncheon? Before she could decide, Mrs Bodney appeared.

‘Lily, I’d like you, as overseer, to take responsibility for making the Bertha collar. You will see from this pattern that it has the design of crowns and needs to be worked to a depth of 5½ inches. I suggest you make a start on pricking out the pattern now whilst it’s quiet.’ Then, before she could answer, her employer swept from the room. Lily groaned under her breath. There was no way she could leave the workroom now. It was almost as if Mrs Bodney had known what she’d been contemplating, she thought as she duly began pricking out the new pattern.

All afternoon she worked without stopping. Aware that time was racing by and Mrs Bodney was keeping an eye on them, the ladies hardly lifted their heads and the workroom was unusually quiet. However, as soon as Lily rang the bell at the end of the day, they jumped up, covered their work and all but ran out of the door. The long hours were taking their toll and they were eager to get back to their families.

As soon as the last lady had left, Lily hurriedly covered her own pillow and made her way outside, bolting the workroom door behind her. Although her conscience was pricking, she just had to see Tom.

Pulling her shawl tighter round her, for the air was cooler now the nights were drawing in, she ran down to the beach. Her heart leaped when she saw him bent over his lugger.

‘Tom,’ she shouted, running towards him. He turned, but the face that stared back at her was not his. ‘Hey, that’s Tom’s boat,’ she cried.

‘’Tain’t no more,’ the stranger muttered. ‘Sold it to me last night, he did.’

‘What? He can’t have,’ she gasped.

‘Bought it fair and square with my hard-earned money, I did. I’m preparing to sail out on the morning tide with the rest of the fleet,’ the man said.

Dumbstruck, Lily stared at him but his open face and clear eyes told her he was telling the truth.

In frustration, she kicked at the pebbles then, heedless of her new boots, crunched along the water’s edge. When she reached the spot where, only a short time ago, they’d stood together making plans for their future, it all became too much. Throwing herself down onto the beach, she let loose the tears that had been threatening all day. Finally, overcome by exhaustion, she fell into a troubled sleep.

As if from a long way away, she heard the crunching of a boat being dragged over the pebbles. Groggily she opened her eyes, wondering why she wasn’t in her bed. Trying to sit up, she grimaced. Her body was stiff and her left arm numb where she’d been lying on it. Then with her heart feeling as heavy as her pillow, she trudged back up the beach.

‘Hey, Lily, come on or you’ll be late.’

Looking up, she saw Mary beckoning to her.

‘Gosh, you’d give a scarecrow a run for his money,’ the other woman laughed. ‘You look like you’ve been up all night,’ she added, giving Lily a level look as she caught up with her. Lily blushed. ‘Love a duck, you have, haven’t you?’ she gasped. ‘Well, you’d best hurry and freshen up before Mrs Bodney sees you. Don’t worry; I’ll cover for you,’ she added when Lily hesitated.

Fearful that someone might see her if she went round to the yard, Lily kicked off her boots then stood in the brook, letting the cold water cascade over her. Where was Tom? Had he really sold his lugger? She found it hard to believe, for it had been handed down from his father and was his pride and joy. She’d have to call at his mother’s house and find out, she thought. Then hurriedly rearranging her dress, she bent down to pull her boots back on. But when she saw the state of them, she gasped. The sea water had stiffened the new leather and they were now streaked white with salt. There was also a dark stain on the toe that looked suspiciously like tar. She’d have to ask Albert how to remove it, she thought.

She was pulling down her skirt as far as she dared, in the hope of covering her feet, when she heard the clatter of wheels. Looking up, she saw Rupert’s carriage coming down the street towards her. Not wishing for him to see her in such a dishevelled state, she drew back into the shadow of the cliff. To her dismay, the carriage pulled up outside Picky Pike’s premises.

Thinking quickly, she decided that, rather than risk bumping into him, she’d make her way to Mrs Westlake’s cottage straight away. Lily knew full well she should be working, but the urge to find out about Tom was too great to ignore. Promising herself she’d work on after the others had finished for the day and trusting Mary would be true to her word and cover if Mrs Bodney came looking for her, she hurried off up the path.

It proved to be a futile journey, for when she reached the Westlakes’ cottage there was no answer to her knock on the door. She tried again, and was just taking a peek through the tiny window for any sign of life when a voice called out, making her jump.

‘Can I be helping yer, lass?’ Spinning round, she saw a wizened old man with a shock of white hair peering over the low wall that separated the gardens.

‘I’m looking for Mrs Westlake or Tom, sir,’ she answered.

‘Gone away, so they have. Left the key with me, so they have,’ he said in his singsong voice.

‘Oh, no, did they say where they were going?’ Lily gasped in dismay.

‘Why bless yer, child, calm yerself. They’ve only gone as far as Seaton, so they have. To stay with the old lady, they said.’

‘Oh,’ she said, relief flooding through her. ‘Do you know when they’ll be back?’

The old man shook his head. ‘Ah, ’tis disappointed they’re gone, so yer be?’ he guessed.

‘Yes, I am,’ she answered, trying not to break down. He must have heard the tremor in her voice for he got to his feet, opened his little gate and beckoned her towards the bench that was set on his neat square of grass.

‘Like a barley drink? I made some earlier, so I did,’ he asked gently, looking concerned.

‘Oh, please,’ she answered, suddenly realizing how thirsty she was. He scuttled indoors, reappearing moments later with two filled tumblers. The barley water was so cool and delicious she drank it down in one gulp.

‘Well, that was worth making it for, so it was,’ he said, laughing. ‘Now tell me what’s ailing thee, young Lily.’ Seeing her surprised look, he continued, ‘Thought I recognized yer earlier. I knew yer father, so I did. Fine man he was. It was a sorry thing, that accident.’

The old man looked down at Lily’s feet and frowned.

‘Yer’ve made a fine mess of they boots. A good bit of leather that, too, so it is.’

‘I know. I shall be in right trouble with Mrs Bodney when she sees them,’ she said, grimacing.

‘Mrs Bodney, eh? Well, lass, happen I can help yer.’

She looked at him in surprise. ‘That’s very kind of you but I’m pretty sure that’s tar,’ she said, sighing and pointing to the thick black stain on the toe. To her surprise the old man laughed.

‘’Taint nothing a spot of eucalyptus oil won’t fix or my name’s not Bobby Fixit, so it is.’

‘Oh, Bobby Fixit, can you really get rid of that?’ she asked, her eyes widening in surprise and hope.

‘Take them off and let’s see, shall we?’ he said, chuckling as he disappeared indoors again and by the time she’d done as he’d bid, he was back carrying a bowl and cloth. Sitting himself back down on the step, he worked in silence, concentrating so hard she didn’t like to interrupt him. Finally, he sat back, held out the boots at arm’s length and smiled.

‘There, young Lily, if these aren’t as good as new then my name’s not Bobby Fixit, so it’s not,’ he said, handing them to her. She stared down at them in amazement for indeed they did look as good as new.

‘Bobby Fixit, I’m that grateful I could hug you,’ she squealed, and to her surprise the old man burst out laughing.

‘Let’s just say if we’ve beaten the old harridan it’s made my day, so it has. Now it’s time for my nap. Good day to yer, young Lily,’ he said, nodding to her. Then, leaning back, he put his hat over his face and promptly began to snore.

Whilst she hadn’t got a clue what he’d meant about beating the old harridan, she felt relieved that Tom had only gone as far as Seaton. She’d visit him when he’d had a chance to calm down, she thought, as she made her way back to Agent Pike’s house.

To her dismay, she noticed the sun was already warm. How could she have been away for so long? Haring back down the hill as if the devil was after her, she prayed her absence hadn’t been noticed and, if it had, that Mary had been able to cover for her, otherwise she was in deep trouble.