The Sea Shell Girl (19 page)

‘You all right old thing?' Freckles whispered.

‘Yes,' she whispered back.

‘Don't know why we're whispering,' Freckles laughed, propping herself up on her elbow. ‘You can hear old Pru's
snores from the yard. Honestly, anything less ladylike I've yet to hear.'

Merry laughed back. Her friend was better than Grozen's tonic tincture.

‘So why the sigh?' Freckles persisted. ‘I thought you said your mother was inviting you to your grandmother's party. Sounds fun to me.'

‘I thought so too until I read that Nicco is collecting me.'

‘What, that dark-haired hunk of a man? Coo, I wouldn't say no. Mind you, Chester will be upset; he's got his eye on you. Honestly, some gals have all the luck.' This time it was Freckles who sighed.

Merry lay back on her pillow. Did it really matter if Nicco collected her? She could spend time with her grandmother and mother and then return here to the job she had come to love.

‘What a day,' Freckles said, yawning loudly. ‘Still, old Rosey had to goesy; now all we have to do is sort out Smelly Smale. Here's to new beginnings, eh, gal?'

‘Yes, to new beginnings,' Merry replied.

Despite her misgivings, Merry was pleased to see Nicco waiting outside the store on the following Sunday. She'd been so excited at the thought of returning home, she hadn't slept a wink. Joanie had insisted she take some of her baking home with her, and Mr Fairbright had allowed her to purchase a gift for Grozen at a very reasonable rate. Carefully she handed her basket to Nicco before climbing up beside him.

‘Your transportation awaits, my lady,' Nicco said, giving her his widest grin.

‘Thank you, Nicco. It's good of you to come all this way to collect me, and in your best cart too.'

‘As I've said before, I'm looking after my future interests. Anyway, I persuaded Father to lend me it along with the fastest horse. Said we wouldn't have time to get there and back otherwise,' he grinned. ‘You're looking well, Merry,' he added, looking her up and down appraisingly, then frowning. ‘Where's all your beautiful hair gone?'

‘I've clipped it back into a chignon. It's all here under my bonnet,' she laughed, patting the knot on the nape of her neck.

‘Well, I prefer it when you wear it flowing down your back, and I don't like seeing you in that grey cap thing either,' he grunted, carefully negotiating his way through the Sunday traffic. She was about to mention she
had to tie it back under her uniform cap, then thought better of it. He would only moan.

Instead she settled back in her seat and looked around. Already they were passing the theatre, going in the same direction as when they'd ridden out to the Green. However, this time, rather than turning towards the sea, he carried straight on and crossed in front of the railway station, then on behind the wet basin full of boats, which were today quietly moored against the quays. On the other side of the street, set well back, there was a formidable grey stone building in its own grounds.

‘That's one of the hospitals,' said Nicco.

‘How many do they need?' asked Merry, staring at the huge building in amazement.

‘There is a main one further inland, but that one's reserved for the navy.'

Already they had moved on, though, and were now coming up to a junction. As Nicco turned right, Merry could see an inlet to the sea, with a tall-masted black-hulled ship anchored in the Sound, and a grey hulk abandoned on the beach nearby. They came to another junction and this time turned left.

‘This is Halfpenny Bridge and that is Devonport,' announced Merry excitedly, ready to tell him about her trip on the tram.

‘Yes, I know that,' said Nicco, waving his hand dismissively. ‘More importantly we're nearly at the ferry.'

As he clearly wasn't interested in how Merry had come to know the names of the landmarks, she sat back in her seat. If he wanted to be Mr Know-All then so be it.

They made their way onto the ferry in silence but as the
chains rattled and it began its journey across the water, Merry felt her excitement mounting.
Home, home, home
, they seemed to clank. It was wonderful to feel the breeze on her face after being cooped up indoors. So much had happened in the past few weeks she felt like a different person from the one who'd left Porthsallos.

‘Farthing for them?' Nicco offered.

She shook her head. ‘I was just wondering where the past weeks have gone. It seems ages since I left.'

‘It is, and you missed the St Peter's Fair,' he grunted. ‘The girls were right peeved not to have our betrothal to add to the celebrations. Just wait until next year, I promised them,' he added, looking at her meaningfully.

‘Nicco …' she began, but the ferryman appeared beside the cart asking for their fare and he turned away. Just get through the day, she told herself.

As Nicco had the larger cart, they took the higher road to Porthsallos. Staring at the vast expanse of moors gleaming like gold in the distance Merry was reminded of her earlier journey with Otto. His quiet reassurance had given her confidence and she wondered how he was doing. Sighing, she stared at the rows of trees they were passing, hardly able to believe the leaves were already turning russet and orange.

‘Your mother's been cleaning and cooking like crazy,' Nicco said, breaking into her thoughts. ‘Anyone would think you were coming home to stay.' He turned and gave her one of his intense looks.

‘Well, I'm not,' she replied.

‘Yet,' he added.

She clenched her hands to stop herself from rising to the bait.

‘How are things at the pallace?' she asked, changing the subject.

‘Well, of course we're still very busy with the pilchards. I've suggested some new ideas to speed up the operation but Father's seen fit to resist them. Still, he'll retire soon and then I can run it as I wish. Life's moving on and we'll be in danger of falling behind if we don't take some short cuts.'

Merry frowned, not liking the sound of that.

‘Are all the girls well?' she asked, her heart lifting at the thought of seeing her friends again.

He nodded. ‘They've plenty of work to keep them busy and put money in their pockets. That Fairbright man's paying them a fair rate for their knitting as well so, all in all, everyone's content. Well, apart from Kelys, who's got her stitches knotted 'cos he's put your mother in charge.' Merry remembered Mr Fairbright remarking on her mother's capabilities. Her gentle mother taking charge of the knitting ladies seemed as likely to Merry as she herself being made manageress of Didcot and Fairbright. She opened her mouth to say as much but Nicco was still carrying on with his tale.

‘As for them do-good teetotallers, they only want to turn our inns into temperance establishments. You can imagine what the fishermen think of that. I mean, if a man can't have a pint of ale after he's been grafting at sea then what's the world coming to?'

Not being in the least bit interested in ale, Merry was happy to let him witter on, and as the landscape became familiar, her excitement mounted. Then, almost before she knew it, they were at the turning for Porthsallos and beginning their descent. Already she could see the loom
over the harbour, smell the familiar tang of tar and fish, hear the screech of the gulls.

‘If you wait while I see to the horse, I'll walk to your cottage with you,' Nicco offered, drawing to a halt by the mill.

‘Sorry, Nicco, I'm too impatient to wait. Besides, I want to see my folks first,' she said, jumping down. ‘Thanks for the lift. No doubt you will be popping in to give Grozen your birthday wishes and have a piece of cake?'

‘I will that, so make sure you save me some,' he said, handing down her basket.

Merry all but flew down the almost deserted lane. This being the Sabbath, the women were indoors preparing their luncheon. She hoped she'd see them later when they gathered in their usual spot to knit and chat.

‘Look what the wind's blown in.'

Merry turned to see Kelys glaring at her from her front doorstep.

‘Good morning, Kelys,' she replied, ignoring the woman's hostile manner. ‘How are you?'

‘I was fine until your mother got ideas above her station. 'Twill be where you get it from.'

‘But …' Merry began, but Kelys had stamped indoors, slamming the door behind her.

Remembering Kelys's sharp tongue, Merry ignored the woman's outburst. Turning, she stared around the harbour where the fishing boats were all tied up for the day, for no self-respecting fisherman would risk incurring the wrath of God by putting out to sea on the Sabbath. No doubt they would all be in one of the alehouses supping their pints while they waited for their midday meal. Automatically, she
glanced up at the house on the cliff and smiled. It was hard to believe she'd actually spoken to the elegant Lady Sutherland, whom she'd long admired. Turning into the warren, she heard a squeal of delight and her heart skipped when she saw her mother waiting in the doorway.

‘Here she is, Mother,' Karenza cried, throwing her arms around Merry and hugging her tightly. Enveloped in her mother's warmth, Merry had to blink back the tears that sprang to her eyes.

‘Well, aren't I allowed in?' she asked finally.

‘Of course,' he mother laughed, reluctantly letting her go.

‘Well, look what the tide's brought in,' Grozen called from her chair.

‘Oh, it's so good to see you,' Merry cried, flying across the room and kissing the woman's papery cheek. ‘Birthdays greetings for tomorrow, Grozen,' she added.

‘No need to remind me I'll be a year older, I'm sure,' her grandmother grumbled, but the warmth in her eyes belied her blunt words.

Merry sniffed the savoury aroma that was filling the little room appreciatively. ‘Something smells good. That reminds me, Joanie, the housekeeper, sent some of her baking for you both,' she said, lifting the cloth from her basket and drawing out an iced fruitcake on a plate, and ginger biscuits wrapped in greased paper.

‘My, my,' Grozen gasped. ‘No wonder you've filled out, our Merryn, if you've been eating rich food like that.' Merry stared down at her Sunday dress, which was straining at the seams, and grimaced.

‘Don't tease the girl,' her mother chided, her little blue
necklace swinging back and forth as she shook her finger at the older woman. ‘It's good to see you looking so well, dear. Now take off your bonnet and make yourself comfortable while I make a brew to keep us going till luncheon. The kettle's on the boil.'

Merry smiled: when wasn't it?

‘Is Nicco not with you?' Karenza asked, staring over Merry's shoulder as if expecting him to materialize.

‘He'll be down later to wish you happy birthday, Grozen. I promised him a piece of your cake.'

‘I should hope so, after him making that journey to collect you,' Grozen muttered. ‘He's a good boy, popping in like he has with news of your progress.'

‘I've only seen him once since I began work, Grozen,' Merry pointed out. She was so busy looking around the familiar room that she didn't notice her mother and grandmother exchanging knowing looks.

‘Don't do to keep him waiting for too long. There's plenty keen to jump in your shoes,' Grozen sniffed.

Not wanting to argue with her grandmother, Merry changed the subject.

‘Tell me how things are here. Mr Fairbright said he was pleased with the knitting you are producing and the way you have mastered the shell pattern.'

‘Fancy stitches. Don't know what was wrong with the pattern you always knitted before,' Grozen muttered.

Karenza smiled. ‘Don't go on, Mother; our Merry's always been creative. Don't forget it was her initiative to go and see Mr Fairbright in the first place that turned our fortunes round.'

‘I haven't seen no riches,' the woman muttered.

Karenza smiled at Merry. ‘Don't take any notice, Merry. She's as happy as the rest of us to be getting a fair price for her work. The regular money's meant we've been able to eat well and I don't think you're the only one who has plumped out a bit.' Karenza leaned forward and patted her mother's shoulder. ‘See, more meat than bone.' The older woman narrowed her eyes, making them laugh.

‘About time we heard about life in the big town, isn't it?'

‘You're right, Mother,' Karenza nodded. ‘Mr Fairbright said he's pleased with your progress but are you happy in your job? Are the others nice? Do you get time to rest?'

‘Steady on, Mother,' Merry cried. ‘I'm enjoying my new work very much, though with the store being open from eight o'clock in the morning until ten at night, by the time we've eaten our supper we're ready to fall into bed. The manageress is a bit of a tartar, though, and her breath smells like old cabbage.'

‘She should munch parsley then,' Grozen muttered.

‘That's a good idea,' Merry agreed. ‘Anyway, the other trainees are really nice and, as you can tell, Joanie, the housekeeper, is a great cook. Not as good as you, of course, Mother,' she added, sniffing the air.

‘Your mother got Ma Rooster to kill one of her chickens in your honour. Up at dawn plucking the thing, she was,' Grozen said. ‘I said to her, it's only our Merryn coming home, not royalty visiting.'

‘It's in honour of your birthday, Mother. You know we are celebrating today whilst Merry is with us. Of course, if you'd prefer your normal pilchards …'

‘Didn't say that, Karenza. If I eat any more of them I'll look like a ruddy pilchard,' the woman groaned. Merry
and her mother laughed for, come the winter and the inevitable return to surviving on limpets, the woman would be lamenting the passing of the tasty silver fish.

‘Well, it should be about ready,' her mother said, getting up and spreading her best embroidered cloth over the table. Merry set out the cutlery and by the time they sat down to enjoy their meal, it felt as if she'd never been away. The chicken was cooked to perfection, with the skin crispy, just how she liked it, and the potatoes, baked in the ashes, soft and fluffy inside their jackets. Her mother chattered about life in the village and seemed happier than Merry had ever seen her.