A Family For Christmas (4 page)

His big belly laugh filled the room and Eliza
felt her spirits rise again. She felt more comfortable when the giant was around.

‘I got some sacking off Ben. When
we've eaten, I'll go out to the barn and stuff up a mattress for you. You
can't carry on sleeping on that chair and there's room enough for you both alongside
the fire.'

Fay grunted, but Eliza could see she was
pleased.

As the drink had settled her stomach, Eliza found
herself relaxing. She must have drifted to sleep because the next thing she knew, Fay was
shaking her awake.

‘I promise to cook you breakfast and then
you sleep until noon.' Eliza opened her eyes to find Fay frowning down at her.
‘Let's sit you up so you can eat. You need to build your strength,' said the
woman, tucking skins behind her.

To her surprise, Eliza found she was ravenous and
tucked into the coddled egg. Fay sat in her chair on the other side of the fire stitching away
at a length of material that looked familiar. Surely that was her dress, Eliza thought, but the
woman was concentrating so fiercely, she didn't like to interrupt. She ate her meal, then
sighed contentedly.

‘That was delicious, thank you.'

Fay grunted, put down her sewing and took away
the platter.

‘Now you're feeling stronger, we need
to talk,' she said, returning to her chair.

Eliza looked at the woman's serious
expression and swallowed hard. Was she going to turn her out so soon?

‘You gave me a real scare collapsing outside like that. Only
a fool would wander around in that atrocious weather so I'm guessing you must have run
away from home.' Eliza looked down at the floor and Fay nodded. ‘I thought as much.
I don't know what caused you to take such drastic action but I'm sure your parents
will be worried sick.'

Eliza shook her head. ‘Father will be
pleased I've gone. He said I was naught but a burden,' she burst out.

‘Sometimes things are said in the heat of
the moment. I'm sure he will now be regretting his harsh words.'

‘You don't understand. He called me
useless, saying no man will want to marry me.'

Fay gave a harsh laugh. ‘Marry you? Why,
you have years yet before you need think of such a thing. How old are you – eleven?'
Eliza shook her head. ‘Well, twelve at the most then?'

‘I shall be fifteen on the 19th of
February,' Eliza burst out indignantly.

Fay narrowed her eyes. ‘I warn you, I have
no time for liars, girl. Deceit is the work of the devil,' she spat.

‘But that's what I am. A child of the
devil,' Eliza muttered.

Fay stared at Eliza in horror, the crackling of
the logs in the hearth sounded unnaturally loud in the long silence.

‘Why would you think such a preposterous
thing?' Fay asked eventually.

‘Father called me that. I was born with a
twisted foot, you see.'

‘I have seen your foot, Eliza, a tragic
birthing accident certainly, but no work of the devil. I thought that kind of fallacy lost in
the mists of time. Surely your mother understands that?'

‘Mother tries to stand up to Father, but as
head of the household what he says goes, doesn't it?'

Fay pursed her lips but said nothing.

Eliza stared dismally into the fire, recalling
her father's harsh words, the crack of his belt … ‘He's always taken
against me and I am not going back, ever,' she cried.

‘Calm down, Eliza. I take it your name
really is Eliza?' Fay asked, shooting her a penetrating look.

Eliza nodded.

‘You claim to be nearly fifteen
…'

‘Yes, I am. Whatever you may think, I am no
liar,' Eliza protested.

‘I can't help unless I know the
facts. You have been very ill and are little more than skin and bones, although it is my guess
you were malnourished to begin with. As it's
going to take a while for you to regain enough strength to go
anywhere, I was trying to establish if we need to inform anyone of your whereabouts.'

Eliza shook her head.

‘Your family will be worrying,
surely?' Fay persisted.

‘No! They'll be glad to be rid of me,
as will you,' Eliza shouted. Silence descended like a fog and, ashamed of her outburst,
she stared miserably into the fire.

‘I can't deny I prefer my
solitude,' Fay finally admitted. ‘However, I believe in the moorland ways, which
would not permit me to let you leave before you've regained your strength. Any caring
human would surely think the same. That's why I can't believe your parents
won't be worrying about you and wishing you safely back with them.'

Eliza gave a harsh laugh. ‘Believe you me,
that'll be the last thing they're wishing. They think I'm worthless, totally
and utterly useless.'

‘Rubbish. Can you cook? Clean a house?
Sew?'

‘Of course. I've been doing all of
those things at home for years,' Eliza retorted, indignant at being questioned about such
minor tasks.

‘Well, there you are then; hardly useless,
are you?' Fay commented.

‘But it wasn't enough for
them,' Eliza cried. ‘You wouldn't understand what it's like to feel
lonely.'

‘Is that so?' Fay sighed, staring
into the fire. Then her manner became brisk again. ‘Now, having been confined to barracks,
which I detest, I've used the time to mend your clothes. You were so drenched I literally
had to peel all your things from you. They were torn and covered in
mud, beggar's buttons and all kinds of animal waste,'
she said with a grimace. ‘Why, I even had to cut burrs out of your hair, it was that
matted.'

Remembering the leap she'd had to make into
the ditch and her night spent in the animal byre, Eliza shuddered. Then the implication of what
Fay had said sunk in. Gingerly she peered under the cover. Sure enough she was wearing only a
chemise, and her legs and feet were quite bare. Quickly she covered herself up again. Then a
thought struck.

‘Duncan – did he help … you
know, undress me?' she whispered in horror.

To her surprise, Fay chuckled. ‘Don't
look so worried. You were decently bedded down long before he appeared. And now I've
washed your dress, you can be respectably attired when he next appears. I've added a
flounce to hide the worst of the damage.' She passed the garment to Eliza, who stared at
her old dress in amazement. The varying shades of green sewn onto her homespun made it look like
a patchwork of fields in summertime.

‘That's beautiful,' she gasped.
‘Thank you.'

Fay shrugged. ‘Like I said, it was a good
way of passing the time. I'm not one to be idle, or indoors, come to that. Besides, it was
just some spare cloth I had.' That the woman should have material of such fine quality
lying around amazed Eliza, but she wasn't going to question her good fortune.

‘I collected up the things you dropped in
the snow when you fell.'

Eliza's eyes lit up. ‘You found my
box then?'

‘Your box?'

‘Yes, my treasure box. Grampy made it for me and I keep my
flowers in it. I wrapped it in my bundle,' Eliza cried.

‘There wasn't any box amongst your
things,' Fay said.

‘Are you sure?' Eliza asked, her
heart sinking.

The woman frowned. ‘I know a box when I see
one.'

Feeling tears well, Eliza quickly turned her head
away so the woman wouldn't see.

‘I'll take another look around when I
go out for more wood,' Fay said brusquely. ‘Now, you've had quite enough
excitement for one day. Lie down and get some rest.'

Eliza did as she was told, not thinking for one
moment she'd be able to sleep, but when she opened her eyes again bright sunshine was
streaming through the window from the east.

‘So, Sleeping Beauty wakes at last,'
Fay said as she struggled to sit up. ‘How are you feeling today?'

‘Much better, thank you,' Eliza
answered as her stomach gave a loud rumble.

Fay grunted. ‘I'll pour you some
broth and when you've eaten, we'll get you cleaned up. A wash and change of clothes
will make you feel and smell better.'

Eliza spent the next few days sitting in the
chair beside the fire. To her chagrin, Fay refused to let her help with the household chores,
insisting she rest. Although the woman was civil, Eliza still felt uncomfortable in her presence
and hoped Duncan would soon reappear.

Fay could not stay still, though, and whilst she
bustled around tidying the room Eliza took in her surroundings, noticing for the first time how
spartan they were. A table
tucked under the small
window was scattered with papers and books, the two mattresses were propped against the wall on
one side of the fireplace, and there was a heavy dresser stacked with odd dishes. The various
knives in their leather sheaves still hung from their hooks, and the gun was on the back of the
door. Further along, an old satchel was slung over a hook and in the corner stood a pail of
water. Then she spied the tiny jar of snowdrops on the sill of the window and felt a pang. Her
mother would have a fit if she saw those, believing the old superstition that white, shroud-like
flowers were redolent of death and should never be brought indoors.

‘Surprised to see the Fair Maids of
February blooming so early, eh?' Fay said, breaking into her thoughts. ‘Got a
sheltered spot beyond the vegetable patch where, with a little attention, they thrive and arrive
a month earlier than the rest up here, just for old Fay,' she chuckled.

As the woman opened the door to sweep out the
dust, all Eliza could see was the snow-clad moorland spreading endlessly before her. A sudden
gust of wind made her shiver and, pulling the sheepskin cover round her, she watched as Fay
viciously stabbed the ice on top of a pail with the broom handle. With a shock, she realized the
woman was much older than she'd first thought. Her dark hair was streaked with silver
threads and she had reddened cheeks and roughened hands. Despite the cold, she was dressed only
in an old woollen shirt and baggy trousers; as she disappeared outside Eliza saw that from
behind she had the athletic appearance of a man.

‘I've had another look around but
couldn't see any sign of your box, Eliza,' she said, reappearing moments later.
Eliza's heart sank. Her last link with Grampy
and the happy times she'd spent with him at home was gone. How could she have been so
careless as to lose her most treasured possession? Blinking back the tears, she watched as the
woman haphazardly threw the animal skins back down onto the earth floor.

‘There, that's better, all
clean,' Fay announced, hands on hips, staring around the room. Eliza didn't like to
point out the cobwebs festooning the fireplace and corners, or the dust that covered every
surface.

‘I don't know how much longer
you'll have to stay here, Eliza, but …' Fay was interrupted by a sharp rap on
the door. ‘This place is busier than a blessed hunt meeting,' she grunted, flinging
open the door. ‘Oh, it's you again. Haven't you got your own home to go
to?'

‘Thought you'd like to know Rose had
her baby in the early hours. Little boy they've named Joshua. Mother and baby doing well,
Father exhausted, but I guess that's the way of things,' Duncan said with a
chuckle.

‘From what I can make out, you men just get
the fun bit of things, as you call it,' Fay said, wagging her finger at him. ‘Still,
it is good news the baby's delivered safely. Right, you can make yourself useful and
entertain our guest. It'll give me a chance to get out of this place before I go barmy as
a Bath bun.' Having thrown on her coat, she grabbed the satchel and was gone.

Eliza's eyes widened in shock but Duncan
grinned, seemingly unperturbed by the woman's abrupt manner.

‘It's good to see you up and dressed.
Are you feeling better, little un?' he asked, lowering himself down on the rug beside
her.

‘Yes, but I really feel I'm in Fay's way here. I
wish I was stronger so I could get up and go,' she said miserably.

‘You mustn't mind her. She's
used to being by herself. I expect she's finding company claustrophobic, especially only
having the one room.'

‘I intend leaving as soon as I can,'
Eliza assured him. ‘I shall seek work and board in the nearest town.'

Duncan shook his head. ‘Take one day at a
time,' he advised. ‘You certainly look different in that pretty dress,' he
added, trying to calm her by changing the subject.

‘Fay added this flounce to my old
homespun,' she said, holding out her skirt. ‘Why would she do that, if she hates me
so much?'

‘Look, Fay doesn't hate you. In fact
she was out of her mind with worry when her own remedy failed to bring down your temperature.
That's why she sent her precious Woody to get me.'

‘Woody? Is he a dog?' Eliza said,
looking around as if one might materialize out of the shadows.

Duncan laughed. ‘Woody is her pet
pigeon.'

‘But I thought she shot pigeons.'

Duncan's deep belly laugh rumbled around
the room. ‘She does if they eat her precious vegetables, but then she does have to
live,' he said, shrugging philosophically. ‘Woody's different, though. Fay
tended his broken wing and they seem to have formed a bond. He's stayed with her ever
since. Follows her around all day, then roosts on the wood pile in the shed outside. When you
failed to respond to her ministering she tied a message to his leg telling me to come quickly as
there was a child in need of strong curatives to bring down the fever.'

‘She never said. But then she never says much at
all.'

‘She can appear aloof, a bit eccentric
even, but we're all different. I'm hoping this should make things a bit
easier,' he said, taking a wooden mug from his pocket and placing it on the hearth.

‘Why, that's beautiful,' Eliza
exclaimed, marvelling at the way the handle seemed to flow seamlessly from the body of the mug.
Then she noticed the E carved on the front. ‘It's for me?'

‘Of course. Fay can have her own
back,' he said with a wink. ‘I've also made an elixir to purify your blood and
stimulate your appetite.' He got up, poured some dark liquid into the mug and handed it to
Eliza. She took a sip then grimaced at the bitter taste.

‘What's in this?' she asked
warily.

‘Nature's bounty, now drink it
up,' he said, watching until she'd finished every last drop.

‘That's better. Both Fay and I agree
that nature will provide, always supposing you know where to look for it, of course.'

‘She said you were a druid – what
does that mean?'

‘Druids believe in spiritual powers, that
all nature is part of the great web of life.'

‘Like a spider's web?' she
asked curiously.

‘Exactly,' he agreed. ‘We
worship the land, the earth, the trees, the stars and the universe. We encourage love and peace
and believe no animal has supremacy over another.'

Hearing the sincerity in his words, Eliza
remembered the gentleness of his hands as he sponged the fever away.

‘But Fay kills animals for their meat,
doesn't she?'

‘Indeed, for man must eat. However, she firmly believes that
if an animal needs to be killed it should be done humanely and every last scrap used out of
respect. And, of course, animals themselves kill to live. 'Tis the cycle of things. But
that's quite enough for now, my little dryad.' Eliza looked askance at him.
‘It means female spirit of the tree. With your elfin features, you remind me of
one.'