Linda Finlay - The Bonbon Girl

‘Would you like me to do it?’ she asked, feeling guilty for bringing her earlier bad mood into the room.

‘No, ta, me lover. It’ll do me good to stretch me old bones. Besides I need the privy,’ she added with a girlish grin.

As Emily shuffled stiffly towards the door, Colenso unfolded the tulle and began pinning it onto the dress. Even plain black serge could look attractive when it was good quality and nicely trimmed, she mused. Her thoughts turned to what she was going to wear for her handfasting ceremony. A deep red would be in keeping and complement her dark looks, or perhaps purple with flowing sleeves. The ties that would bind her and Kitto together could be made in matching material. Perhaps Emily would advise her, though of course she wouldn’t say anything until she’d spoken to her mamm. With any luck her father would spend the evening in the hostelry and they could begin making plans in peace. Although it would be some time before Kitto finished his apprenticeship and his siblings were settled, it was exciting to think that one day she would become his wife.

‘Here we are, lover, chamomile tea to soothe your mood, though yer looking brighter now,’ Emily said, eyeing her shrewdly as she set the tray carefully on the shelf. ‘Best put yer sewing down, don’t want Her Ladyship’s dress getting stained. ‘Made us a bit of luncheon while I was at it.’

‘Thanks, Emily,’ Colenso said, pushing the dress carefully to one side. ‘I’m famished.’

‘Yer always is,’ Emily laughed. ‘Come on, eat up then yer can tell me what’s wrong. Looked like a dog who’d had his bone took earlier, yer did.’

They ate their bread and cheese in peace, each lost in their own thoughts. From the way Emily kept glancing at the empty chair beside her, Colenso knew she was thinking of her sister. She was sipping her tea when Emily got to her feet again.

‘By the way, yer can have these offcuts, if they’re any use,’ she said, passing over some squares of material.

‘Oh,’ Colenso muttered, her eyes filling with tears as she stared down at them.

‘I thought yer’d be pleased not upset. Yer don’t have to take them if yer don’t want,’ Emily frowned.

‘But I do. It was the word offcuts that reminded me …’ she broke off as a lump rose in her throat.

‘What’s up, lover? Come on, yer can tell Auntie Em,’ the older lady said, patting Colenso’s shoulder.

‘The new manager at Poltesco, he … he … called me a thief cos I collected the offcuts on Saturday. But I was told I could take them like normal,’ she shook her head.

‘No wonder yer was hopping,’ Emily murmured, passing her a clean kerchief. ‘Wipe yer eyes, I’m sure yer father’ll explain he’s mistaken.’

‘Huh,’ Colenso sniffed. ‘He was there and didn’t stand up for me at all. All he did was grovel like the manager was some kind of god. Then, when he’d gone, that horrid man accused me of profiteering cos I sell the trinkets I fashion to the tourists.’

‘But if they was odd bits of no use to the works then they’d just be thrown out, surely? I mean, these offcuts of material here aren’t any use to me, but they’d be the start of a lovely patchwork quilt if yer has the time to sew them together. I mean, I guess yer’ll be thinking of yer own nest now,’ she said, grinning wryly at the ring on Colenso’s finger.

‘Nothing gets past you, Em,’ Colenso said, her spirits lifting. ‘But you’re right, I shall go and tell Mr Fenton exactly that tomorrow. Now I’d better get back to my sewing or you’ll be docking my wages too.’

‘Only when yer’ve calmed down, lover. I were worried poor Lady Carwell’s hat was going to be full of holes the way you were stabbing that needle through it. A word to the wise though, I’ve heard that new manager stops at nothing to get his own way.’

Colenso felt the necklace stab at her chest and that feeling of foreboding settled over her once again.

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