A Family For Christmas (5 page)

‘Dryad – I like that. Soon I shall
leave here and will be known as Eliza Dryad,' she declared.

‘Don't be hasty, little un. We are
still in the deadness of January and haven't reached the moorland turn of the year yet. Up
here in the hills 'tis only at Candlemas next month we mark our midwinter. Hence the old
saying, till Candlemas Day keep half your hay.'

Eliza looked at him in horror. ‘But
that's ages yet.'

He chuckled. ‘Miss Impatience. When the
thaw comes, I'll show you the woods where I live and tell you more about our way of life.
That'll be a treat for you to look forward to,' he winked. ‘Now, though, you
need to rest and I must chop some wood for Fay. She's an independent old thing and more
than capable, but I like to help, especially when she's out of the way,' he said,
grinning as he got to his feet.

Eliza closed her eyes and dreamed she was a dryad
soaring over trees and lush green meadows. The sun was blazing from an azure sky and she felt
alive with happiness. She was rudely awakened by a sharp rap on the door. Thinking Duncan would
answer, she remained where she was but the knocking persisted. Groggily she got to her feet and
tugged at the rickety wood. A man of middle
years
stood there. He was shabbily, if cleanly, dressed and grinning inanely.

‘Afternoon, maid. It's perishing out
here, can I come in?'

‘No. It's not my home, you
see.'

‘So I gathered. I been told you're
seeking a live-in position so happen this could be your lucky day. I farm lower down the moor.
Wife died before Christmas and I need someone to keep house. You're not as scrawny as I
feared so if you play your cards right happen you could be the next missus. A fellow needs
someone to warm his bed of a night,' he said, giving a raucous guffaw. His suggestive
remarks made her feel sick. Where was Duncan? Surely he hadn't left whilst she was
asleep?

‘I think you must have heard wrong,'
she ventured.

‘Don't think so, maid. The old woman
was quite certain, though I have to say her description didn't do you justice,' he
said, eyeing her up and down. Then he caught sight of the ugly black boot under her skirt and
his expression changed. ‘Seems like old Jed here will be doing you a favour, maid. Told
the woman I'd take you so never let it be said I don't honour my word. Good job I
brought the harvest cart up, though,' he said, gesturing to the gate where a grey pony was
stamping the frozen ground impatiently.

Eliza looked at the long low wagon, with neatly
railed sides, and shuddered. He really expected her to go with him, she thought, taking a step
backwards.

‘Yer, 'tis cold,' he said,
mistaking her movement. ‘So hurry up, get your things and we'll be on our
way.'

Eliza shook her head. She'd rather live
rough on the moors than go anywhere with this bumptious bumpkin.

Frantically, she pushed the door shut but his foot shot out,
preventing it from closing, and he grabbed her arm.

‘I haven't come all this way for
nothing, maid, and you ain't in any position to be fussy, are you? Now be quick and get
your things,' he hissed.

Eliza shuddered. Although she was hurt that Fay
seemed so keen for her to move on, she had no intention of going anywhere with this obnoxious
creep. She'd rather starve than sink that low.

‘
Take your hands off her
this minute,' a voice called. Seeing Duncan striding up the path, Eliza almost fainted
with relief.

‘No need to take that tone, I'm
sure,' the man blustered. ‘The old woman told me the maid was looking for board and
bed so …'

‘I'm afraid you're mistaken.
Eliza is a guest here so I'd be obliged if you would leave,' Duncan insisted
firmly.

The man spat in disgust, a globule of spittle
glistening on his lip.

‘Go inside, Eliza,' Duncan ordered.
‘I'll see our visitor safely on his way.'

As Eliza hurried back to the warmth of the fire,
she could hear the sound of raised voices. Unwittingly, she'd caused trouble again, she
thought, stumbling across the room, fear and nerves making her limp more pronounced. She heard
the man shout to his horse as she collapsed weakly into the chair. Then Duncan appeared, pushing
the door firmly shut behind him. He looked furious.

‘I'm sorry …' she
began.

‘Whatever for?' he asked.

‘For causing trouble. I can see
you're cross with me.'

He shook his head, his expression softening.
‘I am cross but not with you, little un.'

Eliza struggled to her feet. ‘I must go. I
won't stay
where I'm not wanted,'
she muttered, but the room started spinning and she clutched at the arm of the chair for
support. In an instant, Duncan was by her side, gently settling her back down again.

‘You are in no fit state to go anywhere.
Close your eyes and get some rest,' he ordered, drawing the cover over her.

‘But …' she began weakly.

‘Hush, no arguing now,' he soothed,
reaching into his capacious pocket and drawing out a wooden flute. As a lilting melody filled
the room Eliza felt her agitation easing. The mellow notes reminded her of a spring breeze
rustling leaves in the trees and she closed her eyes, dreaming again that she was a spirit
floating free.

‘Whatever were you thinking of, Fay? She
could have come to real harm.' Eliza was woken by Duncan's angry whispering.

‘Seemed like the perfect solution. Jed
mentioned that he was looking for help around the home and …'

‘But she's only a child, Fay,'
Duncan interrupted.

‘Apparently she'll be fifteen in a
few weeks. That's hardly a child, Duncan.'

‘Fifteen, you say? You'd never think
to look at her, she's so tiny. Still, that's hardly the point, Fay. She's
malnourished, exhausted …'

‘Stop going on, Duncan. Like I said, it
would have solved all our problems. She'd have had a job and a roof over her head and
I'd have got my space back.'

‘But you should have seen the way he was
leering at her,' he protested.

‘So I'm a nursemaid now, am I?' Fay's
voice became querulous and Eliza bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. Yet again people
were arguing over her. Well, she wasn't going to stay where she wasn't wanted. But
before she could move, the wrangling started again.

‘Being by yourself has made you selfish and
self-centred, Fay. If, as you maintain, you live by the moorland ways, you've certainly
got a funny way of showing it.'

‘How dare you? Get out, you
whippersnapper!'

‘Don't worry, I'm going. Think
on what I said, though. You've got a heart of gold hidden beneath that prickly exterior,
Fay, and that girl's crying out for a bit of love and attention. Is it too much to ask
that you give her a little compassion?'

Eliza heard his footsteps crossing the room and
the door closing. Then there was a thud as something hit the wood after him.

‘Good riddance,' Fay muttered. Eliza
heard her poking the fire vigorously. ‘Can't even sit in my own chair,' she
added. Feeling the woman staring at her, Eliza could stay quiet no longer. Struggling to her
feet, she reached for her shawl.

‘I'm sorry, Fay,' she said.
‘I'll leave right away.'

‘It's dark outside. Can't be
responsible for you getting sucked into a bog so you'd better stay another night,'
the woman grunted. Then she turned and held a spill to the flame before lighting an unused
candle that was stuck in a bottle beside her. ‘There, as it's been an eventful day
we'll treat ourselves to a bit of comfort,' she said, snuffing out the spill between
her finger and thumb. ‘Bring over one of those chairs so we can both have a seat.'
Eliza
hesitated. ‘For goodness' sake,
hurry up, girl. It's not often I light a candle at suppertime, or any other time, come to
that. Cost money, they do. Now, we need sustenance; can't think on an empty
stomach.' She nodded towards the chairs by the table, then swung the crook from over the
fire and began ladling stew into two mismatched platters.

As the savoury aroma wafted her way, Eliza was
surprised to find she was hungry. They ate in silence then sat staring into the fire. Fay seemed
lost in her own thoughts and Eliza didn't like to disturb her. How she wished Duncan had
stayed. His calm presence gave her confidence and Fay's moods were unpredictable. At this
very moment she might be hatching another plan to get rid of her. She clutched the edge of her
chair, hardly daring to move in case she upset the woman.

After a while, she sensed Fay glancing at her.
Fay opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something then thought better of it. Finally she
looked directly at Eliza.

‘Duncan says I'm prickly. Would you
agree?' she asked, her voice sounding loud after the silence.

Eliza took in the woman's unkempt
appearance. With her hair sticking out at odd angles, bright button eyes and the shadows cast by
the candle making her nose look wrinkled she certainly didn't give the impression of being
approachable. Eliza swallowed, not sure how to answer. If she said what she was thinking she
would offend, yet she'd been brought up to be truthful.

‘I guess if you were an animal, you'd
be a hedgehog,' she finally ventured.

Fay stared at her in surprise, then burst out
laughing,
the raucous sound echoing round the small
room, making the dishes on the dresser rattle.

‘You'll do, girl. I like someone
who's not afraid to speak their mind. It was wrong of me to send Jed up here, I can see
that now. When I bumped into him it seemed the perfect solution but I didn't think it
through. Believe me when I say I meant no harm?' She paused, staring at Eliza intently as
she waited for her to answer.

Not trusting herself to speak, Eliza merely
nodded.

‘Truth is, I become restless cooped up
indoors,' the woman continued. ‘I need to be outside, working the land, hunting meat
for the pot or drawing the flora and fauna. They're my passion, you see, and the hours of
daylight are short this time of year. Obviously whilst I'm doing that I can't see to
things here and if you're to stay until you're fully recovered there'll be
more to do. So the answer's obvious, isn't it?'

Eliza frowned. ‘I'm not sure I
understand,' she ventured.

‘Goodness, girl, have you lost your marbles
along with your mutton? You said you can cook, clean and sew?'

Eliza nodded, hardly daring to hope the woman
meant what she thought she did.

‘Well, then. If you keep the hovel clean
and cook our meals that will leave me free to skip off and sketch.' The incongruous vision
of the older woman skipping about the moors made her smile.

‘Why do you call this place a hovel?'
she asked, looking around the room.

Fay frowned. ‘It's just one name for
a tiny dwelling hereabouts. Hovel? Hobble? Does it matter?' she said eventually.

‘I think hobble sounds much nicer.'

‘Then by all means call it that. The place
has been hobbled together anyhow. Now, do you agree to my suggestion?' Fay asked, holding
out her hand. ‘No doubt Duncan will make sure I'm looking after you
properly.'

That clinched it. With him around she'd
feel safe. She just hoped he hadn't taken offence at the woman's parting shot.

Eliza placed her hand in Fay's, trying not
to flinch at her vice-like grip. She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her. Not only
would she have somewhere to stay whilst she recovered, she could make herself useful. Then a
thought hit her.

‘I don't have any money,
though,' she ventured.

Fay snorted. ‘Nor do I, Eliza, nor do I.
Many years ago, when I decided to come here and live the moorland way, I thought long and hard
about how I would exist. In order to survive one needs running water, which the streams around
here supply in abundance. One also needs access to fresh food, which I get from various means,
including my vegetable plot out the back. With careful management and planning it supplies my
needs year round.'

Eliza watched as the woman became quite animated.
To live without money seemed a fascinating concept and she leaned forward to make sure she did
not miss a word.

‘Then there's a roof over one's
head. You might not think this a palace,' Fay said, gesturing around the room, ‘but
to me it is home. It provides shelter from the elements and is a haven to return to at
nightfall. A fire provides both heat and a means of cooking food. There
is an abundance of wood to collect for fuel around these parts if
one is prepared to expend the energy. Of course one also needs clothes on one's back but I
had a good supply when I left …' She stuttered to a halt and her eyes glazed over as
if she was thinking back to another time. Eliza stared into the fire and waited.

After a few moments, Fay shook her head.
‘Anyway, as you can see, I am virtually self-sufficient and don't recall mentioning
that money word along the way.' She saw Eliza staring at her in amazement and chuckled.
‘Don't worry, girl, you'll not want for anything. Now it's time we
bedded down for the night. I'll see if we can't rig up something to give us a bit of
privacy when the weather warms up. Meantime, we'll have to carry on sleeping in front of
the fire or we'll find ourselves frozen to our mattresses.'

Although Eliza resolved to be up before Fay, she
woke to the smell of frying meat. The woman was in an amiable mood, though, and handed her a
platter before she'd even risen.

‘Here, get that down you. Remember,
breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Eat well at the beginning and you'll have
energy enough to cope with everything the day throws at you.' Eliza stared down at the
black-red meat and shook her head. How quickly she'd become accustomed to having venison
for breakfast. Whatever would her mother and father think of such luxury? Knowing it would serve
no purpose pursuing that line of thought she stifled a sigh and began to eat.

‘What would you like me to do today,
Fay?' she asked, putting her empty platter aside. The woman stared around the room and
shrugged.

‘Tidy and clean up a bit. Don't overdo things, though,
or I'll have Duncan to answer to. There's barley in the shed out back if
you've a yen to make some bread any time. Now that would be a rare treat. I'll bring
in some wood before I leave.'

‘What about animals? Do you keep
any?'

Fay shook her head. ‘I live on very modest
means, Eliza, and livestock cost money both to buy and to keep. Got some chickens initially but
the foxes and pine martens soon had them. Waste of good money that was,' she snorted.
‘Remember what I said last night about money? Well, that was my one and only investment.
You can keep your animals.'

‘Duncan mentioned your pet pigeon,
Woody,' Eliza persisted.

The woman's expression softened.
‘He's different. Understand each other, we do. Now, where were we?' she said
brusquely. ‘Ah yes, provisions. Sometimes I get milk and eggs from the farm in return for
helping out, otherwise it's whatever I happen across.' She gave a broad wink.
‘As I said, my garden keeps me in vegetables and herbs so stews are my mainstay. You can
use whatever you fancy for our evening meals. Which reminds me: wood supplies. You'll not
be doing any cooking without a good fire,' she said, getting to her feet. Eliza watched as
she shrugged into the tattered greatcoat, tying it around her waist with the length of string
before pulling a battered old bonnet down over her ears. The incongruous sight made her
smile.

As Fay tugged open the door, a mighty gust of
wind almost took it from its hinges, sending smoke from the
fire billowing around the already gloomy room. Eliza coughed and
shivered, causing Fay to frown. ‘You can't afford to get a chill after that fever,
girl. Best help yourself to one of my warm shirts and a pair of serge trousers from that drawer
over there,' she said, nodding towards the chest in the corner.