A Family For Christmas (15 page)

Moments later, Eliza heard his footsteps
pounding behind her but she didn't turn round.

‘What's up?' he asked, catching
up with her. Then he saw her crimson face and grinned.

‘Not used to skinny dipping, eh?'

She shook her head. ‘Where I come from the
rivers run red and orange from the copper mines,' she muttered. ‘That water was so
clear I could see, I mean I saw …'

‘We're all the same – well,
more or less,' he conceded. ‘When I said come in for a dip, I only meant for you to
refresh yourself. Still, I'm fully dressed, if a bit wet, so you can look at me without
blushing.'

She smiled feeling silly now that she'd run
away.

He returned her smile, saying, ‘I want to
show you something interesting, little un. Although, you don't look so little today, I
must say,' he said, standing back and appraising her. ‘Fay's food must be
doing you good for you've filled out nicely since I last saw you and you seem to be
walking easier as well.'

He'd noticed her at last, she thought, her
heart singing. Then she realized he was speaking again.

‘Down there is the marsh where you'll
find meadowsweet and all manner of other flowers you've probably never seen before. Come
on,' he said, taking her hand and leading her towards the scrub.

She could smell the heady meadowsweet before they even reached
the marsh. The soggy ground was clothed in the white flowers and under the withies she saw a
profusion of flowers she certainly couldn't identify.

‘These here are gold ragwort, those
silvery-mauve ones are water valerian, the purple, horehound, and pink brambles,' Duncan
said, pointing to each species in turn.

‘They're beautiful,' she
gasped, her awkwardness forgotten. Reaching out she gathered up a bunch of the meadowsweet, then
eagerly picked a specimen of each of the other brightly coloured flowers and placed them in her
basket.

‘Careful now or you'll take a tumble.
Fay won't thank me if you go back home smelling like a bog. How is she, by the
way?'

Eliza sighed and shook her head. ‘She was
complaining about being hot and said her eyes hurt. I left her resting in the garden under the
gorse bush.' Conscious he'd referred to the hobble as her home, she grinned but
Duncan was frowning.

‘Has she been out and about
recently?' he asked.

‘No, she's been pottering about her
garden. Why?'

‘Just checking. Has she made any more of
her remedies or distilled any essences?'

‘No. I've been badgering her to, but
she said it's not the right time of year yet. As soon as I get back, I intend making her
an infusion with these,' she said, holding up the meadowsweet. ‘That should help,
shouldn't it?'

He nodded and the look of admiration in his eyes
made her heart flip.

‘So our little un's growing up and
thinking of others.
Make sure she drinks it and
I'll be over to see her as soon as I can.'

Disappointed that he wasn't returning to
the hobble with her, she nodded.

‘Come on, I'll carry your basket
until we reach the track,' he said, taking it from her.

Fay was asleep in the garden when Eliza returned.
Her battered bonnet had slipped over her face and was rising and falling as she gently snored.
However, as Eliza made her way up the path, she woke with a start.

‘Had a good day?' she asked.

‘Yes, I bumped into Duncan. He was swimming
in the river and …' she flushed. ‘Well, anyway, he showed me where to find the
prettiest marsh flowers. They smell wonderful.'

Fay stared at her knowingly. ‘And how is
Duncan?'

‘He's busy at the moment but said
he'd call by to see you soon. He wanted to know if you'd distilled any essences or
anything yet,' she told Fay, looking at her hopefully.

‘Busybodying whippersnapper,' the
woman muttered, rising stiffly to her feet. ‘Can't sit here all afternoon.
I've got my plants to see to.'

Eliza sighed and took herself indoors.
She'd have liked to ask Fay what she could use her flowers for. Carefully she placed her
specimens between the pages of the flower book, then set about making an infusion with the
meadowsweet. At least she knew how to do that.

‘Here you are, Fay,' she said, when
the woman came indoors.

‘What's this?' she asked,
eyeing the steaming mug suspiciously.

‘It's to help you feel better,' Eliza
explained.

The woman snorted but inhaled the liquid.
‘Meadowsweet, eh?' she commented, looking at Eliza knowingly.

Eliza nodded then smiled as Fay took a sip.

‘You made this without a
receipt?'

‘Yes. Why, is something wrong with
it?'

‘It's as I thought, you've got
the nose,' Fay grudgingly admitted. ‘Not that I needed any fancy drink, mind. Early
night's what's called for, I think.'

Although she was far from sleepy, Eliza saw how
weary the woman looked and didn't argue.

Next morning, Eliza woke to the sound of pots
and pans being banged about. Quickly dressing, she pulled back the dividing curtain to find Fay
had lit the fire and was busy placing something inside a big pan.

‘Morning, Fay,' she said.
‘You're up early.'

‘Well, seeing how you now think yourself
competent in the use of flowers, I thought I'd better demonstrate the distillation
process.'

Eliza's spirits soared. ‘So the
meadowsweet worked, then?'

‘It did, as it happens. But don't get
cocky,' she warned as Eliza grinned. ‘You've got much to learn so watch and
observe.' She put a heavy flat stone into the bottom of the pan, then placed a mug on top.
‘This is to collect the distillate. Pass me that pail of water.'

Eliza did as she'd been asked and watched
as Fay carefully poured in the liquid until it reached the bottom of the mug. Then she tore up a
handful of rosemary, placed it in the water and covered the pan with the lid upside down.

‘Oh,' Eliza exclaimed. ‘You've put the
lid on the wrong way up – shall I turn it over?'

Fay clicked her tongue. ‘I'm not
stupid, girl.'

‘Sorry, I was only trying to
help.'

‘If that's the extent of your helping
then you can go back to bed,' the woman admonished. ‘Now, are you going to watch and
learn or interrupt me with inane comments?'

‘I'll be quiet as a mouse,'
Eliza promised.

‘Mice twitch and I can't abide
that.'

Eliza bit her lip. Really, the woman was in a
contrary mood this morning.

‘Now that lid's upside down for a
reason,' Fay continued. ‘The handle in the middle is going to act as a collector,
which will drip condensed steam into the mug.'

‘Will it take long?' Eliza asked as
the woman carefully placed the pan on a stand to the side of the fire.

‘It'll take as long as it
needs,' Fay muttered, giving her a sharp look. ‘We'll leave this now until the
steam rises and the condensate drips into the cold mug.'

‘What's condensate?'

‘It's the substance resulting from
condensation, in this case the liquid that comes from the vapour. I'm starving, so
let's eat while this does its job,' Fay said, taking out her frying pan and throwing
fat and thick bacon rashers into it.

As they sat eating their breakfast, Eliza kept
her eye on the pan at the side of the fire.

‘It's going to take a little
time,' Fay pointed out.

‘What will you use this condensate
for?'

‘As I've told you before, rosemary is
versatile and can be used to treat many ailments. It can counteract exhaustion, fatigue, help
rheumatism, lift mood,' Fay muttered.

Eliza smiled inwardly. Perhaps Fay could use it to help her bad
temper.

‘But how does it work?'

‘You need to start with the basics, Eliza.
Essential oils are produced by chlorophyll-bearing plants that absorb the sun's rays and
synthesize or produce organic or natural compounds.'

Eliza smiled and nodded as if she understood.
Goodness, this was far more complicated than she'd thought. Fay wasn't fooled,
though.

‘Don't worry if you can't
remember everything. The more you practise the better you understand. Now, I think it's
time to change the mug over otherwise it will overheat and redistil.'

As the heady aroma filled the room, Eliza began
to see how the process worked.

Later, when Eliza had cleared away their things,
Fay pulled the pan from the fire and lifted the inverted lid. Again the pungent aroma filled the
room and Eliza watched as Fay carefully lifted out the mug and put it on the table.

‘There's not much, is there?'
Eliza ventured, peering at the liquid.

‘Ah, but that liquid's very potent
and to be used sparingly. Later we'll need to separate the oil from the distilled water,
for both have their uses. Now stop standing there with arms both the same length and find
something useful to occupy your time. I noticed weeds in the vegetable plot when I went out
earlier. By the time you've done that this will have cooled and we can siphon off the
oil.'

Eliza grimaced but seeing the doughty look on Fay's face,
she snatched up the receipt book and went outside.

Ignoring the weeds, she threw herself down on the
grass and thumbed through the pages to see what she could use her flowers for. As the sun rose
higher so did her spirits. There were so many different receipts she couldn't wait to
start. She stared around the garden, wondering what else she could use and then saw the dreaded
weeds.

It didn't take long to tidy the plot for
her movements were easier now that the weather was warm and dry. Not having to wear the flannel
petticoat under her cotton skirt made her feel liberated and she enjoyed the feel of fresh air
on her bare arms. If only she didn't have to wear those ugly black boots, she thought,
scowling down at them.

Her musing was interrupted by Fay's cry of
dismay. Hurrying indoors, she found the woman staring at the spilled mug in disbelief while the
liquid spread out over the table in ever increasing circles.

‘How could I have been so careless?'
she moaned. ‘I didn't even see the damn mug.'

‘Shall I scoop up as much as I can and put
it back?'

Fay sighed and shook her head. ‘The oil and
water have all mixed now.'

‘I'll wipe up the mess
then.'

‘I'll see to it,' Fay
snapped.

‘Well, let me make you some tea,'
Eliza suggested, seeing how ashen the woman looked. ‘It's not the end of the world.
We can make some more for there's plenty more of that rosema—'

‘It's not that simple,' Fay cut in. ‘Oh
for Heaven's sake, leave me alone. I've got much to think about.'

Eliza collected her basket and went back outside,
hoping Fay would feel better once she'd had some time to herself. She couldn't shake
off the feeling of despondency that had descended like a cloak of doom.

As if echoing her mood, clouds covered the sun
and she shivered. She wondered if she should return for her shawl but didn't want to
disturb Fay. Knowing it would be warmer in the woods, she made her way there hoping to find new
flowers she could look up in the receipt book.

She found some exquisite plants nestling in the
shade and was breathing in their sweet fragrance when, seemingly out of nowhere, a thick hill
fog descended. It wrapped around her in strange dirty white swirls. Everywhere was still and
quiet, everything cloaked in damp, desolate greyness. Strange shapes loomed, then disappeared
like phantoms into the night. Shivering, she turned back and was trying to locate the path
she'd taken earlier when a huge shadowy figure rose up before her, stopping her in her
tracks.

‘Who are you?' she shrieked, but
there was no answer. She called out again, her voice quavering as she stared hard into the mist.
‘Who's there?' But the only sound was the echo of her own voice coming back to
her in the eerie silence.

Hampered by her dragging foot, which felt leaden
in the cold and damp, she made her way back to where she hoped the hobble was. Cursing as she
stumbled on unseen roots and rocks, she urged herself on. Then she saw it, the glimmer of
candlelight flickering out of the murk. Almost
crying with relief, she limped up the path and threw open the
door.

‘Goodness, where's the fire?'
Fay asked, looking up from the table where she was studying her receipt book by the light from
the candle.

‘A monster, huge,' Eliza gasped,
holding out her hands as far as they'd reach, then collapsing on the chair opposite.
‘It rose right up in front of me then disappeared in the mist.'