Blood and Clay (11 page)

Gabe
nudged my chin and laughed.
“
See Lizzie, not so hard to look me in the eye is it? Now
what
’
s making you so troubled heh?
”

Gabe
leant back on his elbow again and I took a deep breath. I hadn
’
t even realised that I had been
holding it.

“
How
’
s Jane?
”

“
Jane?
”

“
Jane Nutter?
”

“
Oh!
”
Gabe looked surprised.
“
I don
’
t know. Good I think. I don
’
t really talk to her.
”

“
You don
’
t?
”

“
No. Why would I? Too busy working; Mr Nutter works me hard.
Got to earn my wages.
”

Gabe
was still looking at me, brow wrinkled.

“
I thought you were courting.
”

“
Ha!
”
Gabe fell backwards and lay on the grass laughing until
tears sprung from his eyes.

I
glared at him, feeling stupid and confused.

“
There only one lass for me Lizzie and it isn
’
t Jane Nutter. She
’
s very pretty an all but she don
’
t half know it. Get a spot o
’
dirt on her and she goes running to
her Mam in a tizz.
”

“
Well I hope your other girl
‘
isn
’
t so prissy then Gabe; not with you
bein
’
so perfect and everything.
”

I
spat the words out, confusion making me mean. I thought Jane was the only girl
he could be courting but I realised now that I hardly ever saw him. There could
be a whole bunch of girls he saw in the village. I really did know nothing
about him. I stood up quickly and stomped away, heading for home.

“
Lizzie, Lizzie come back. I didn
’
t mean to laugh
”

I
couldn
’
t turn around, my eyes were blurred with tears that I didn
’
t want Gabe to see. Tears I couldn
’
t even understand.

The
scent of sweet clover, wild garlic and morning dew filled the air and wood
pigeons cooed, unseen but ever present in the trees of the forest of Pendle. I
could hear my feet crunching on the stones of the road and the rhythmic
scrunch, scrunch made me calm. I neared Beggar
’
s Bend and smiled as I felt the warm,
smooth shilling in my pocket, the last of the money given to me by Roger Nowell
months earlier. I
’
d spent it slowly over the months and now, with fruit, veg
and meat more abundant in the woods, I was able to spend the last of it on
thread, pins and fabric to make a summer shift dress for Nettie as a birthday
surprise.
 

Following
Roger
’
s visit to Malkin Tower I
’
d felt unsure about what to do with
the money. At first the knowledge that Roger must have known who I was all
along had made me feel foolish and guilty for the lies which he must have known
as such. The uncertainty about what he was going to do to my family had further
made me avoid thinking about the money. I considered giving the money back but
he
’
d already set off on his horse by the time I had decided to
go and get the money from the clearing and I didn
’
t know where he lived. I reached the
bend just in time to see Alistair McCarren approach from the opposite
direction. His old pony plodded slowly along as it pulled a cart on which he
perched. Behind him were swathes of fabric. There was nothing delicate or fancy
but there was an abundance of hard wearing cloth. They were mostly in basic
blocks of earth and neutral colours but some with more fanciful prints. It was
these in which I was interested. As I reached the bend I was happy to see that
Alistair had stopped for a while to sip on a small flask of water and let his
horse graze on the grass. The sun glinted of his silver white hair and he
sprinkled some of the water from his flask into his hand before holding it out
for his horse to drink.

“
Hello Mr McCarren.
”
                

“
Hmm. Hello. Alizon isn
’
t it? The Device girl
”

“
Yes Sir
”

“
Here alone?
”
Alistair looked behind me and scanned the trees with the
familiar edginess that I often saw when people wondered if my Gran was around.
When I nodded Alistair McCarren visibly relaxed.

“
Aye. Not that I got a problem with your family you
understand. No, I don
’
t have a problem with no-one round these parts. That
chattering Chattox woman gives me the creeps mind. Not friendly with your
family is she?
”

“
No Sir.
”

“
What are you doing on a fine day like today then girl?
”

“
I
’
ve come to buy fabric and pins. I
’
m going to make our Jennet a dress.
”

“
Ah, lucky girl she is then, having a sister such as you and
a new dress an
’
all. Is it wool you
’
ll be wanting?
”

Alistair
lifted up a swatch of heavy, coarse, sage green material. I felt it and it was
rough and scratchy to the touch. I knew it was not unkindness but charity which
made McCarren go for this material as it was both hard wearing and the cheapest
he had to offer. I smiled and allowed my gaze to drift over the other fabrics.
My eyes eventually settled on thick linen, orange with small green leafs
embroidered here and there. I touched it gently with my fingers. It was still
thick enough to offer some warmth in the evenings but light enough to be cool
during the day and it was almost smooth to the touch. The orange was the colour
of autumn leaves and the green, not the muted sage of the wool but rather a far
brighter green, almost the same as the grass on which I stood.

“
Could I have this one please?
”

“
You sure? It
’
s tuppence a yard. You
’
ll need at least four yards to be
making a dress for your Jennet. That
’
s two groats.
”

“
Aye, I can afford it. I've been saving a shilling for this.
”

“
A shilling! Well I won
’
t ask how you got it girl. One bob is
as good as any other to a business man such as me. Four yards of the Autumn
Dream Linen it is then. And thread? That
’
ll be another penny. Leaves you with
thre
’
pence.
”

“
I need pins an
’
all and a good strong needle.
”

“
Sorry lass. I sold the last o
’
my pins to Mistress Nutter
yesterday. John Law will be by here sometime this morn though. He peddles all
sorts o
’
bric a brac. He
’
ll have pins for you if you got the
time to wait.
”

“
Thank you Mr McCarren Sir.
”
I stroked the shilling one last time
before handing it to Alistair. He laughed as he took it.

“
You've been holding on to that tight girl. It
’
s as hot as a peat fire!
”

I
smiled and watched as Alistair folded a sheet of thick brown paper around my
precious purchases before securing it with thick, fraying string. He handed me
the thre
’
penny bit and the carefully wrapped package with a smile which
made his nut brown weathered face wrinkle like a dried out apple. I beamed as I
took it, luxuriating in the weight and neat symmetry of the package.

“
Bye lass. Come on Bessie
”

Alistair
climbed back onto his cart and gave the pony
’
s rump a quick slap which sent
her
 
trit-trotting off down the road
towards Barnoldswick, following the path on which I had come. I continued to
the bend a couple of yards further on and settled on the rock which had been so
cold in October but was now pleasantly warmed by the morning sun. I put my
coins into my pocket and laid the package on my knee, stroking my hand up and
down across the smooth, brown paper. The weight of the package was a pleasant
pressure on my legs and I longed to open it and look at the beautiful orange
hues and tiny embroidered leaves on the fabric. Jennet would love her dress and
perhaps there would be enough left to make myself a drawstring purse.

As
the morning turned into noon I ate an apple which I
’
d found on my way to Beggar
’
s Bend and then moved to sitting on
the floor with my back and head leaning against the rock on which I had now
placed the package. I closed my eyes and listened to the wood pigeons. The
light filtering through my eyelids was a similar deep honeyed orange to the
fabric and warmed my face so pleasantly that I soon felt myself nodding off.
The sun was lower in the sky when a cold, wet feeling on my arm jolted me
awake. I opened my eyes in surprise to see a black dog nudging me. Moments
later I heard the noise of clogs on the stone road I pulled myself to my feet,
using the rock as leverage, and stretched my legs which had stiffened slightly.
I rubbed my calves which had red indents in them from the stones which had
pressed on them in my sleep and then brushed down my dress to appear more
presentable before giving the strange dog a scratch behind its ears then
shooing it to the side of the road. Boosted by the lovely day so far my smile
came a lot more naturally and was far wider than usual as I faced the
approaching man who carried with him a collection of large tool bags, each
clanking with their treasure trove of contents.

The
man smiled as he reached me. He looked to be in his fiftieth year and was not
the sturdy looking man that Alistair McCarren was but rather a thin and frail
looking chap who seemed to struggle with his wares which he carried on his back
and in his hands. He wheezed and walked as if dizzy. As he reached me and put
his bags on the floor to free his hands which he then rubbed his temples with.
Then he shook his head as if to clear it and smiled at me once more.

“
Are you alright?
”
I asked.

“
Aye lass, it
’
s just my age and I
’
ve had quite a walk from the village
of Fence just yonder.
”

”
Are you John Law the peddler Sir?
”

“
Aye that I am lass, and what might your name be little
lady?
”

“
My name is Alizon, Alizon Device.
”

As
soon as the words left my mouth I knew that I
’
d made a mistake in sharing my family
name with the peddler. His face went from the smile he had worn just moments
before to a frown. The welcoming stance and eye contacted became defensive and
his expression hardened.

“
Ah, a whelp of that Demdike witch I
’
d wager. Well you won
’
t be getting no charity from me girl.
Be on your way and I
’
ll be on mine. I have no more pleasantries to share with
the like o
’
you today.
”