The Sea Shell Girl (9 page)

‘I have my uses then,' Otto laughed. ‘Nicco's a good man, just a tad headstrong. He naturally assumes everyone wants the same as he.' They lapsed into silence as she digested what he'd said.

‘I suppose you think I'm selfish and stupid,' she said eventually.

‘No, I don't, Merry. In some ways I understand only too well for I couldn't wait to leave the village of my home either. It seems to me there are two points here, though.
The agent these other women deal with has treated them badly and they are taking it out on you. Then there's your desire to have a different life from the one your family want for you.'

‘Well, yes, but it's far more complicated than that,' she protested.

‘Is it? Or is it your conscience getting the better of you?'

‘My conscience?' she asked, not understanding.

He nodded. ‘Maybe you're feeling guilty for getting a good price for your work, even though you've put yourself out to seek it. I mean, that Mr Fairbright never came knocking on your door, did he?'

Merry giggled at the thought of the dapper man standing outside their humble cottage.

‘That's better. You can only help people if they're willing to accept it. Although if you're intending to leave here who would carry on that fancy pattern of yours?'

‘I hadn't thought of that,' she admitted.

They sat in silence, watching as the moon rose higher in the sky, casting silver shadows like rungs of a ladder over the sea.

‘My mother used to say, if you take one step at a time you can usually see the way ahead. Not that I took any notice of her when I was your age, of course, any more than you will of yours. 'Tis the way of life that we have to find out what life's about for ourselves. 'Cos if we don't we end up feeling resentful.' He leaned forward and chucked her under the chin.

‘Oi, what you doing with my girl?' As Nicco's angry voice carried on the night air, they sprang apart.

‘What the hell do you think you're doing, Otto?' Nicco demanded. ‘I told you, Merry's my girl.'

‘Keep your hair on, pal. We were just having a chat,' Otto replied in such a reasonable voice Merry almost wanted him to declare he'd been courting her himself. Then she saw the set of Nicco's chin, the glint in his eyes.

‘If Merry has anything to discuss she will speak to me,' Nicco spat. ‘Come along, girl, I'll walk you home. You shouldn't be out at this time of night,' he said, proffering his hand.

Ignoring it, she jumped to her feet. ‘I can see myself home, thank you, Nicco. Good night, Otto, and thank you for listening.' As she crunched her way back up the beach, she heard Nicco's angry voice followed by Otto's calm tones.

Thankfully her mother and grandmother were asleep as she tiptoed past their beds and threw herself down on her mattress. How dare Nicco refer to her as his? He made it sound as if she was a toy, something to be possessed. She'd make sure she stayed out of his way the next evening.

Fate was against her, though. She was in the pallace, checking the specially made drains that collected the oil and salt were clear, when a shadow fell over her.

‘Good evening, Merry,' Nicco said, grinning as if their
disagreement of the previous night had never happened. She forced a smile but remained silent. ‘I fear I have been negligent in my duties this past month.'

‘Surely not,' she said, staring around at the barrels of fish that lined the walls, the pots of ‘train oil' waiting to be sold for use in the preparation of leather and as nightlights. ‘It looks as if it's been a very productive time, Nicco.'

‘I wasn't referring to my work, Merry. Nobody is more industrious or conscientious than Nicco Neaple. No, I meant in paying attention to my betrothed.' As he flashed another grin, she felt herself grow hot.

‘We are not betrothed, Nicco,' she reminded him, trying to keep her voice level so as not to attract the attention of the others.

‘Nicco.' At the sound of his father's voice, Nicco sprang away from her.

‘Father, how good of you to pay us a visit,' he replied, resuming his professional manner. ‘See how productive I have been,' he said, gesturing around the storeroom as though he had filled it single-handedly. ‘As you can see, the business is in good hands now and …'

‘I have merely been ill, Nicco, and I would remind you that this is still my business,' Mr Neaple said curtly. ‘Now that I have recovered, you may show me exactly how many barrels are ready to be transported.'

As Nicco hurried to do his father's bidding, Merry breathed a sigh of relief. Thank heavens for old Mr Neaple, she thought. Then saw the others nudging each other.

‘You won't forget to remind Nicco about our St Peter's Fair celebrations, will you?' Tressa asked.

‘Yes, it's getting close now,' Marya added.

‘That's if she can be bothered to remember her friends when she's being wined and dined,' Kelys sniffed.

‘Merry knows how to treat her friends,' her mother said, appearing beside them. ‘Come along, Merry, I'll be glad to get home and put my feet up. It seems to have been a long day and I've still got that last frock to finish before you see Mr Fairbright.'

Making their way outside, they could hear Mr Neaple having a heated discussion with his son.

‘He was no good, Father, so I sent him packing.' Nicco's voice rose as the old man frowned, running his hand over a newly finished barrel.

‘This looks like good craftsmanship to me, son.'

‘Trust me, Father, he was more trouble than he was worth. Glad to see the back of him, to be honest.'

Mr Neaple didn't look convinced.

‘You have been overseeing the work and I would have expected more barrels packed by now.'

‘Come along, Merry,' her mother said, giving her a nudge. They called good night to some of the workers who had clustered in a group just outside the entrance.

‘You mean he's gone?' Wyllow wailed.

‘Not yet. I heard him arranging a lift with the carter for two days' time,' Delen said. ‘You'd best hurry if you want him to notice you, girl. Not that you've had any luck so far.'

The others chortled and their good-natured banter followed after Merry and her mother as they made their way home. Merry hardly heard, though, for her thoughts were racing. Her appointment with Mr Fairbright was in two days' time.

‘So I was wondering if I could travel with you as well,' Merry asked, staring up at the kindly carter.

‘Well, there ain't much room but …'

‘I can squeeze up, sir, and I've provisions enough for three in my knapsack,' Otto assured him, shifting from one precariously balanced piece of wood to another.

‘Oh, go on then,' the carter muttered.

‘I truly appreciate it,' Merry said, handing her parcel to Otto, then clambering up beside him.

With a jolt they began to move and Merry looked furtively over her shoulder. It was much earlier than when she usually left home and she was hoping Nicco would still be in bed.

‘You seem edgy,' Otto said.

‘I'll be pleased when we're out of the village,' she muttered.

‘Ah,' Otto said, looking at her knowingly. She peered round again, then realized they were passing the fork where the lane veered off to Plymouth.

‘Are you not turning off here?' she asked the carter.

‘Never get this lot along that narrow track,' he said. ‘I'll be taking the high road. 'Tis further but will be quicker in the long run.'

Merry let out a sigh of relief.

‘I take it Nicco uses the other route?' Otto said.

She nodded. ‘Not that he makes any arrangements. He just waits on the track with his cart.'

‘He's definitely a man on a mission,' Otto said grimly, and Merry remembered their last meeting on the beach.

‘What happened between you two? Nicco said your
work wasn't up to scratch but old Mr Neaple wasn't having any of it.'

Otto grimaced, his hand automatically going to his eye and in the growing light, she saw the livid bruise. ‘He didn't do that?' she gasped.

‘Don't concern yourself. It was merely a lads' tussle.'

‘Is that why he sacked you, because of me?' she asked, suspicion rising.

He shrugged, then grabbed hold of the side of the cart as it lurched to the right.

‘Hang on,' the carter called. ‘'Tis a sharp bend coming up.' They laughed at his belated warning.

‘Don't you worry about me, Merry. I'm used to looking after myself. Like as not I'll get work in Devonport. They're always looking for good coopers there.'

‘But Nicco said …' she began, remembering the discussion between him and old Mr Neaple.

‘I can imagine,' Otto smiled wryly. ‘But I know my trade and am good at what I do. Nicco sure is possessive about you, though, Merry.'

‘Tell me about it,' she sighed, automatically casting a glance behind them.

‘What are your plans? I know you're going to see that agent today but how will you get home again?'

‘I can walk. It's these frocks that are bulky,' she said, patting her parcel. ‘Once Mr Fairbright has purchased them, I'll just have the wool to carry and besides I shall have time to look around the market,' she added, brightening at the thought. Picking up her pins, she began to knit.

‘That looks interesting. Is that the pattern you were telling me about?' Otto asked, peering at her work.

Merry nodded. ‘I got bored doing the same every day and just sort of saw it in my head.'

‘My mother used to vary her work too. That's quite effective, though, I must say. Have you shown the others how it's done yet?'

‘They're more interested in the St Peter's Fair celebrations,' she sighed, turning her work.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, they lapsed into companionable silence and Merry couldn't help comparing Otto's easy way with Nicco's haughty manner and interminable questions. She stared around at the unfamiliar scenery. Here the road was bordered by fences with stiles interspersed along the route. Cows and sheep grazed the pastures and in the distance she could see what looked like mauve hills rising, seemingly to the sky.

‘Goodness,' she exclaimed.

‘They be the heatherclad moors,' Otto said, smiling at her expression. ‘Hope you've been good or the Boggy Beast will be after you.'

‘What?' she gasped, then saw he was teasing.

‘You've never seen the moors?'

She shook her head. ‘I've only been out of Porthsallos twice before,' she admitted.

‘'Tis a bit different the village, isn't it?' he asked, lifting his cap politely as another cart passed. ‘Mind you, Porthsallos is a nice village.' She gave a snort and he laughed. ‘Sometimes you have to experience other things to appreciate what you have,' he said then lapsed into silence as if his words had reminded him of something.

The cart rattled precariously as it turned down the hill leading to the water and Merry and Otto giggled as they
clung to the sides. When they finally reached the ferry, Otto scrabbled in his knapsack, sharing out the bread and cheese he'd brought with him. As the vessel clanked its way across the river, Merry ate ravenously, enjoying the simple meal far more than Nicco's proposed extravagant feast.

‘I was intending getting off when the ferry docks but could always travel on to Plymouth with you,' he offered, but Merry knew the best offers of work came first thing and she shook her head.

‘That's kind of you, Otto, but I really do want time to visit the market in Plymouth. I'm sure you'd be bored stiff wandering around stalls laden with materials, ribbons and lace.'

‘Happen you're right,' he said, gathering up his things as the ferry bumped to a halt. ‘Take care of yourself, Merry.'

‘You too, Otto,' she said.

Otto hesitated then turned to face her. ‘Look, Merry, Nicco is a nice man but he can be hot-headed. I guess what I'm trying to say is, nobody can make you marry if you don't choose to.'

‘I understand,' she replied, knowing what he was trying to say. ‘What about you, Otto? Do you have anyone special in your life?'

He shook his head. ‘Like a rolling stone, me,' he laughed. ‘I ain't the marrying kind.'

‘I'm sure there's someone who would love to receive your attentions,' she said, thinking of Wyllow.

He patted her hand. ‘Like I said, marriage ain't for the likes of me. Now I'll bid thee farewell, Merry. Carter, stop here, if you please.'

The cart shuddered to a halt and Merry watched as Otto bent and whispered something to the kindly man before handing him some coins. What a nice man Otto was, she thought. He'd confirmed her suspicions about Nicco, though.

To her surprise, the carter followed the same route from the ferry as Nicco had. She'd become used to the noise and the bustle but was surprised when the cart came to a halt outside the premises of Mr Fairbright.

‘Here you are, miss,' the carter said, grinning broadly.

‘But how did you know where I was headed?' she asked.

‘The gent insisted I deliver you to the door,' he said. ‘Paid me handsomely too.'

‘Oh,' she said, drawing out her purse. The carter shook his head.

‘No need for that, miss. Hope you have a good day,' he called.

Smiling her thanks, Merry took her parcel and walked up the steps.

‘Yes?' the formidable Miss Brown asked, as she stood by the counter.

‘I have come for my appointment with Mr Fairbright,' Merry said, forcing her lips into a smile.

‘Name?'

‘Miss Dyer,' she replied. Really, she could do without these games, she thought, watching as the woman slowly ran her finger down the list of appointments.

‘You are very early, Miss Dyer.'

Merry stared at the clock on the wall and shook her head. ‘I think you will find I am on time, for it is almost eleven o'clock.'

The woman gave a supercilious sneer. ‘Ah, but your appointment is not until tomorrow.'

‘No, it's definitely today,' Merry began, but the woman was already looking past her.

‘Good morning, Mr Didcot,' she gushed as a smartly suited gentleman walked through the door, the tapping of his silver-topped cane echoing on the stone floor. ‘I'll let Mr Fairbright know you're here.'

‘Thank you, Miss Brown,' he said. ‘It was good of you to fit me in at the last moment.'

‘But …' Merry began.

‘Is something wrong?' the gentleman asked, turning to Merry.

‘Yes, you see my appointment is …'

‘Please do not trouble Mr Didcot; he is a very busy man. I'll announce your arrival, sir,' the woman effused, patting her bun and hurrying over to knock on Mr Fairbright's door.

‘Mr Didcot is here to see you,' she announced importantly. With a puzzled look at Merry, the man followed her.