A Family For Christmas (16 page)

‘And did this monster say anything?'
Fay asked.

‘I called out but nobody answered. There
was only the echo of my voice.'

‘Happen it was the Brocken,
then.'

‘Who is this Brocken?'

‘Why, you, of course,' Fay chuckled.
Then seeing Eliza's frown she explained, ‘That's what they call the figure of
your own self when it's projected into the mist. There must have been some sort of light
behind you for that to have happened.'

‘Oh and I'd just found some beautiful
mauve flowers, too,' Eliza muttered, feeling stupid and exhausted at the same time. She
huddled nearer to the fire, wondering if she'd ever feel warm again.

‘Well, they'll still be there
tomorrow. Go and put on some dry clothes while I heat something to nourish you.'

By the time she'd dried herself and changed
into the thick shirt and serge trousers, Fay had warmed some soup. As she passed over her mug,
Eliza wondered what had happened to the essence they'd made earlier but knew better than
to mention it. Instead she cupped her hands gratefully around the mug and sipped the tasty
liquid,
savouring the warmth as it thawed her
both inside and out.

‘That was lovely,' she said as she
placed the empty mug on the hearth. ‘It's so nice to be home again.' As she
gave a sigh of contentment, Fay shot her a searching look.

‘You like it here, then?'

‘Oh, yes, I love it. As I said to Duncan
the other day, I'm so grateful to you for taking me in. I'd hate to live anywhere
else now.'

Fay stared intently into the fire but
didn't answer.

It was some weeks before Duncan called on them
again and, to Eliza's surprise, no sooner had he sat down than Fay sent her outside.

‘We need vegetables for supper, Eliza, and
when you've dug some please tidy the herb garden.'

‘Can't I do that later?
Duncan's only just got here and I've so much to tell him.'

‘Now, please, Eliza. I have something
important I need to discuss. You can chat with him later.'

‘But I …'

‘Now, if you would be so kind,' Fay
insisted firmly, and Eliza knew it would be useless to argue.

‘I'll be out for a chat soon,'
Duncan assured her.

It seemed ages before he appeared and then he was
looking grave.

‘Is everything all right?' she
asked.

‘I'm sorry but I can't stop
now. There's an errand Fay's asked me to do.'

‘Oh, Duncan, I haven't seen you for
weeks. Can't you stay for just a little while?'

‘Sorry, little un. This is
important.'

She opened her mouth to ask what could be more
important than spending time sharing their news but he was already striding down the path.
Picking up her fork, she stabbed it into the ground with frustration.

‘Don't blame Duncan. He's running an errand for
me,' Fay said, coming out to join her. ‘Now, I've something to show
you.'

Eliza followed her over to the flower garden and
gasped in surprise. The rose bush, which had been showing tight buds the previous day, was now a
mass of red blooms. Bending her head, Eliza inhaled the intoxicating fragrance.

‘Don't you just wish you could bottle
this wonderful smell?' she cried in delight.

Fay smiled. ‘You can, Eliza.'

Eliza stared at the woman, her thoughts running
as fast as the stream. ‘You mean we can use flowers in the same way as the
rosemary?'

‘With luck, without spilling it
everywhere,' Fay grinned.

‘Can we do it now?' Eliza asked,
hopping up and down excitedly.

Fay smiled indulgently. ‘You can,
certainly.'

‘Me?'

‘Yes, Eliza. I'd like to see how you
get on. Collect the petals while I prepare the equipment. The fire should be just about right
for heating the pan.'

Eliza ran inside to collect her basket and by the
time she'd picked the flowers the woman had laid out everything ready.

‘The first thing you need to do is tear the
petals into strips,' Fay told her. Eliza carefully followed the woman's instructions
but her insides were bubbling with excitement. When at last the pan was heating gently over the
fire she stood watching it, impatient to see the steam gently rising.

‘A watched pot never works, Eliza,'
Fay chuckled.
‘Instead of just standing
there, why don't you get the bottles out ready? Don't forget you'll need to
change the mug to avoid it overheating,' she reminded her, then sat promptly in her chair
and fell asleep.

Having set the bottles on the table and swapped
the mug, Eliza looked at the sleeping figure and frowned. Why, she hadn't even consulted
the receipt. Quickly she thumbed through the book until she came to the page on roses.

‘Know that one by heart,' Fay
muttered, opening one eye. ‘Smells like it's ready now anyway,' she added,
rising to her feet and lifting the lid.

Eliza hurried over to the fire and gasped at the
fragrant aroma rising from the pot. Carefully she took the drying cloth and lifted the mug over
to the table.

Later, she sat staring in wonderment at the
little row of bottles she'd filled and neatly labelled, hardly daring to believe
she'd made the perfume herself. Then she unscrewed one, inhaled the heady aroma and gave a
sigh of pleasure.

‘Well done, Eliza. Did you enjoy
that?' Fay asked.

‘Oh, yes,' Eliza exclaimed.
‘It's a wonderful feeling to have created something so fragrant and
uplifting.'

‘It will certainly be a testament to what
you can achieve,' Fay agreed, but Eliza was too preoccupied to take in her words.

When Duncan popped his head around the door a
week or so later, Eliza could hardly contain her excitement. ‘Duncan, I've made my
very own rose scent,' she burst out, snatching up a bottle to show him. To her surprise,
though, he frowned and turned to Fay.

‘You didn't waste any time, then?' he said, his
voice tight as he handed her a letter.

‘What do you mean?' Eliza asked,
staring from one to the other but neither answered.

While Fay hurriedly tore at the seal, Duncan
stared down at the floor. Then as she scrutinized the sheet of paper, a heavy hush
descended.

‘Farrant's agreed,' she finally
announced.

Duncan's head snapped up and he turned to
Eliza. When she saw the look in his eyes, she felt fear flame in her breast yet didn't
understand why.

‘Who's agreed to what?' she
asked. ‘Will someone please tell me what's going on?'

‘Sit down, Eliza. We have something to
discuss,' Fay ordered. Eliza glanced at Duncan, who nodded. Fay waited until she'd
perched on the edge of her chair. ‘Eliza, you have a talent for aromas that I feel should
be encouraged. The son of an old friend of mine is a Master Perfumer in Devonshire and he has
agreed to train you in the business. Now, is that not a wonderful opportunity?'

‘Devonshire? But that's miles away
from here. I couldn't possibly travel there and back each day,' she exclaimed. Then
she saw the look on the woman's face. ‘You want to get rid of me, don't
you?'

‘No, I don't, as it happens. However,
circumstances change, and this is a wonderful opportunity for you to make something of your
life.'

‘Circumstances? What do you mean?'
she asked.

‘Eliza, Mr Farrant is one of the most
respected names in the business. To be trained by him would be …'

‘I'm not going,' she insisted,
jumping to her feet.

‘Why don't you tell her everything, Fay?'
Duncan said.

‘Remember what we agreed,
whippersnapper,' Fay said, her tight voice brooking any argument.

‘What are you keeping from me?' Eliza
cried. ‘You are the dearest people in my world and I thought you cared about me
too.' Fay and Duncan exchanged meaningful looks but didn't answer. Unable to bear
the tense atmosphere any longer, Eliza ran outside.

Throwing herself down on the little patch of
grass, she stared up at the hobble and tried to make sense of what she'd been told. She
was happy here and didn't want to go away. This funny little place had become her home,
Fay and Duncan her dearest friends. She loved this way of life. Why, she'd even got used
to digging those perishing vegetables.

Suddenly she became aware of Duncan hunkering
down beside her.

‘Don't cry, little un. Happen
it's for the best. You've got your whole life ahead of you.'

‘But I don't want to leave you
both,' she sobbed. ‘Promise you won't let her send me away?'

‘Fay's become really fond of you,
Eliza, and she wants to make sure you're looked after.'

‘But I love it here and I love you,
too,' she whispered.

He gave a lopsided grin, leaned over so that she
caught the fresh smell of the woods that was him and gently kissed her cheek.

‘Love you too, Eliza Dryad. Be
happy.' Then with a tight smile, he jumped to his feet and strode purposefully down the
path.

‘You will be back soon, won't
you?' she called. When he
didn't
answer, she ran after him but by the time she'd got to the gate he was disappearing into
the trees.

Fay was still sitting in her chair clutching the
letter when Eliza went back indoors.

‘I'm not going to Devonshire,'
she announced stubbornly.

‘Why ever not?' the woman asked.

‘It's too far away, for one
thing.'

‘Why, child, it's merely a
cat's jump,' Fay scoffed, clicking her fingers. ‘There is a huge wide world
out there and you're afraid of travelling as far as the next county? Pff. Now, Mr Farrant
is calling for you on …' She stopped and squinted down at the letter. ‘Well,
shortly,' she amended, ‘and you will be ready to accompany him back to his premises
in Follytown.'

Eliza glared at her. Next time she saw Duncan
she'd enlist his help, she vowed. Between them, she was certain they could get the woman
to change her mind. After all, Duncan had told her he loved her. He'd even kissed her, she
thought, reaching up and touching her cheek. He wouldn't have done that if he wanted her
to go, would he?

Over the next few days, while Fay cleaned and
tidied the hobble, she insisted Eliza launder all her clothes. More to humour her than anything,
Eliza took her things down to the river and vented her frustration and hurt bashing them with
the largest stone she could find. All the while she waited for Duncan to call. As time passed
and he didn't appear, she began to worry. Surely he would come before this Mr Farrant
arrived. He wouldn't let her go, she just knew it.

To her surprise, when she returned Fay had the
flat iron
heating beside the fire. Never before
had she seen the woman press her clothes.

‘Come along, you can't take wrinkled
clothes with you,' Fay admonished.

‘Look, Fay, I appreciate you trying to
secure my future but I really love it here with you. When Duncan comes, he'll make you see
sense.' Fay smiled sadly. ‘Duncan will be here soon, you'll see. He loves me,
even if you don't. Why, at this very moment he's probably arranging for me to stay
with Rose,' Eliza insisted.

‘Not with Mother Evangaline
there.'

‘What's she got to do with
anything?'

‘Look, Eliza, there is no way to dress this
up. Rose's mother is an out-and-out snob. She expects her daughter to mix with people of a
certain class. Unfortunately, she considers you a country bumpkin.'

‘Oh,' Eliza said, collapsing onto the
chair.

‘Why do you think Duncan's never
taken you back to the farm?' Fay continued. ‘Now, if you go with Mr Farrant and
train as a perfumer you will be able to hold your head up high in society. Then you can come
back and show Mother Evangaline how well you've done. This truly is a wonderful
opportunity for you. I know you think I'm trying to get rid of you but that is not the
case. If things were different …' She shrugged. ‘Now when we've sorted
your clothes there's something I wish to discuss with you.'

Early next morning, dressed in the corded dimity
gown and cotton lawn petticoat trimmed with broderie anglaise that Rose had given her, Eliza
nervously waited for Mr Farrant to arrive. Fay had also donned a dress for the occasion and
Eliza was surprised to see how elegant, yet
frail, the woman looked. Although they'd been expecting it,
the sharp ratatat made them both jump. Fay gave Eliza a reassuring smile before hurrying to open
the door.

‘Bonjour, Madame Beaumont.'

Eliza stared in surprise as the dapper gentleman,
dressed in a smart frock coat, took Fay's hand and kissed it gallantly. Was he
foreign?

‘Mr Farrant, how kind of you to
call,' Fay said. ‘Won't you come in?' Deftly, he removed his top hat and
stepped inside the hobble. As he stared around the little room, Eliza saw the lift of his brows
before he turned to face Fay.

‘The pleasure, it is mine, Madame, and this
charming mademoiselle is your daughter, Eliza, yes?'

‘Flatterer, you know full well if she were
related, she'd be my granddaughter,' Fay laughed. ‘Let me introduce you to
Eliza.'

‘Enchanté, Mademoiselle Eliza,'
the man said, smiling and giving a slight bow. Eliza stifled a giggle. With his shock of fair,
almost yellow hair and moustache shiny with pomade, he was unlike any male she had ever
encountered before. She wrinkled her nose. He had a most curious smell about him too.

‘Please take a seat, Mr Farrant,' Fay
invited. ‘May we offer you some refreshment?'

‘Charles, please, Madame. That is très
kind but I stayed in Dulvester and only recently partook of le petit déjeuner,' he
said, smiling politely. ‘Now, to business, oui?'

‘It's funny, Charles, but I
don't remember you having a French accent before,' Fay said.

‘Ah, business it has taken me to Grasse,
and when in
France …' he shrugged.
Now you have those receipts for me, oui?'

‘All in good time. First, I want you to
assure me Eliza will receive the finest training in the art of perfumery.'

‘But of course, Madame. Mademoiselle Eliza,
she will become the finest perfumer in the land – after me, of course,' he
laughed.