The Girl with the Red Ribbon (10 page)

Hurrying as fast as she could through the slushy streets, Rowan couldn't help pondering on what Aggie had said. Was it connected to her mother's warning that day of the storm? More to the point, was it a warning about Fanny and if it was, what could she do? She shivered and found herself peering down every alleyway she passed. Once she was back in the still-bustling marketplace, where everyone was going about their business, she chided herself for her fanciful thoughts. The appetizing aroma of pie and onions wafted her way and she saw Sab waiting impatiently beside Hannah's stall. As he looked at her hopefully all thoughts of Aggie and her warning went out of her head.

‘Fear not, Sab, I sold every single thing so we shall eat today,' she said, pleased to be back in his company.

Grinning, he joined the queue and then, armed with their pies, they took shelter in the shambles.

‘That were scrumptious,' Sab declared, licking his fingers. He peered up at the lowering sky. ‘But we'd best be getting back before the weather closes in again.'

Fortified by their feast they made their way over to the stables behind the hostelry. Excusing herself to make use of the facilities, Rowan left Sab collecting Blackthorn and made her way carefully along the side of the building. The sounds of revelry coming from inside reminded her of ‘Slimy' and his invitation, and she made a note to relay her encounter to Sab. By the time she returned, though, he was laughing with the ostlers and the moment was lost.

Steadily they trundled homewards through the gathering gloom. Weary from her early start and busy day, Rowan fell into a doze. She was woken some time later by Sab cursing as the cart lurched to one side of the track.

‘What's up?' she muttered, peering into the darkness. ‘Why aren't we home yet?'

‘I think Blackthorn must have cast a shoe back along. I've let her go at her own pace but now she's lame,' he said. ‘We're nearly there now, but it'll help if I lead her and whisper encouragement.'

‘Oh, the poor thing,' Rowan murmured, jumping down from the cart and walking alongside Sab.

‘Yes, and poor Uncle Ted. We'll have to call the farrier out and that'll cost.'

Rowan thought of the money she'd made at market. No sooner did she make a profit than it was swallowed up by bills. Sab was right: Blackthorn couldn't go anywhere or do anything until the farrier had seen to her. Remembering the bright green ribbon she'd bought, she sighed. What had she been thinking, frittering money away like that?

By the time they turned into the entrance of Orchard Farm the moon was shining from an inky sky.

‘The shippon's in darkness so it looks like Uncle's finished the milking. You go in and get warm while I see to Blackthorn,' Sab said, leading the limping creature away. Rowan sighed. ‘Don't look so worried, Fanny will be in her parlour by now, look.' He pointed to the spiral of smoke rising from the chimney.

Quietly letting herself indoors, Rowan threw off her shawl and went over to the fire.

Suddenly the parlour door flew open and Fanny stood there staring at her wide-eyed.

‘Whatever are you doing here?' she exclaimed.

‘What do you mean?' Rowan said, staring at her stepmother in surprise.

Her father appeared in the doorway behind Fanny, looking anxious.

‘There you are, my dear. Is everything all right? Only it's late and we were quite worried about you.'

‘Yes, that's what I meant, of course. Where have you been?' Fanny said quickly. ‘We were worried you'd got lost or something.'

‘Got lost? We've only been to Sudbury, Fanny. Blackthorn cast a shoe and we had to walk the last half-mile home. Sab's in the stables seeing to her, but I'm afraid we'll have to get the farrier out, Father.'

‘Not to worry, my dear, can't be helped. The animal's welfare must come first, you know that. Now come and sit down by the fire; you must be exhausted.'

‘But it'll cost extra to have him come here, and I had hoped the money I'd made on the stall would help with the farm's finances.'

‘Do you have to pay this man to come out, then?' Fanny cut in.

Rowan nodded and turned back to her father. ‘If I'd known Blackthorn was going to need the farrier, I wouldn't have spent the money Aunt Sal gave me on this,' she said, taking the emerald ribbon from her pocket.

‘Why, you darling girl, that's just perfect for trimming my lilac blouse,' Fanny gushed, snatching the ribbon from her fingers. Before Rowan could protest, she turned to Edward. ‘Didn't I say earlier that you had a delightful daughter, Edward? It's so important that I look my best when you take me out, Teddy,' she crooned, fluttering her lashes at him.

‘You always look delightful, my dear,' he said, smiling happily back at his new wife.

Obviously, harmony had been restored whilst they'd been in Sudbury, Rowan thought, wondering if she dare explain she'd really bought the ribbon to trim her own dress.

‘Anyhow, I'd best go and see how Sab's getting on,' Edward said, pulling on his cap.

‘We really need to go through the farm's accounts soon, Father,' Rowan reminded him, still fretting. ‘I noticed the flour's getting really low and we'll need to take more grain to the miller. That'll cost.'

‘Rowan, my child, haven't I told you your days of worrying about the farm are over?' Fanny simpered in that false voice she adopted when she was out to get her own way. ‘From tonight, I shall take over the accounts,' she announced triumphantly. Rowan stared at her father, willing him to refuse but he was nodding eagerly.

‘It does a father's heart glad to hear you thinking of his daughter's welfare, my dear. You're becoming quite the farmer's wife,' he said, kissing her cheek and disappearing outside.

‘Did you have a good time in Sudbury?' Fanny asked, eyeing her speculatively. Rowan opened her mouth to
explain about her ribbon then noticed the latest orphan lambs were not in their customary place beside the fire.

‘Where are the lambs?' she asked, fearing the worst.

‘Out in the barn with all the others, where they should be. That shepherd man came in to see to them whilst you were away and said they'd be better off with those who could show them some warmth. I guess he meant with the other sheep and their woollen fleeces.' Knowing just what old Davey would have meant, Rowan smothered a grin. ‘Now, dear, you must tell me about your day. Did you meet anyone nice?'

Again she was subjected to a penetrating stare. Not wishing to face Fanny's questioning and with tiredness threatening to engulf her, she shook her head and yawned.

‘It's been a busy day, Fanny, so if you'll excuse me, I'll say good night,' she muttered, and, without waiting for an answer, hurried up the stairs.

Although she was exhausted, sleep failed to come and she lay in her bed thinking back over the events of the day. It had been good to get away from the farm, and she'd enjoyed exchanging free and easy banter with Sab and the stall-holders in the market. She was really pleased with the money she'd made, although who that slimy gentleman had been, she'd no idea. There had been something unsavoury about him and she sincerely hoped she wouldn't see him again. Then there was the emerald ribbon. She was furious at the way it had been snatched from her. Why should she let Fanny have it? She'd have it out with her stepmother tomorrow, she decided. Aunt Sal was right; it had taken her a while to make her uncle's socks and she deserved a little something for her hard work.

She must have fallen asleep eventually, for she was woken by the sound of banging. Prising her heavy eyelids open, she could see a faint loom through the window and realized it must be early morning. Then she heard the noise again, only quicker and more persistent. Jumping out of bed, she gasped when she saw her mirror frantically banging against the door. It was warning her someone unwelcome was trying to get in. Sure enough, she saw the latch lift and then heard the thud of a body against wood when it refused to budge.

‘Rowan, are you there?' Fanny called. No, I've sprouted wings and flown to the moon, she wanted to cry, not yet ready for another interrogation. She covered her mouth with her hands so that no sound could inadvertently escape. ‘Rowan, open the door. I need to speak to you.' Again the mirror clattered its warning and Rowan was thankful for its protection. ‘Rowan, either let me in or come out this very moment. Mrs Stokes is here to see to the laundry and needs some wood ash for grease stains. Can you come and show me where it is?' Feeling laughter bubbling up at such a ridiculous question, Rowan bit down on her lip. Didn't the woman know anything? Then she heard her father's step on the stair.

‘What's wrong, Fanny?' he asked. ‘I could hear you shouting from outside.'

‘I'm trying to get into Rowan's room. Mrs Stokes needs wood ash, Edward, and …'

‘Leave the girl to sleep. She had a long day yesterday. All you need to do is empty the pit out from under the fire.'

‘But, Edward, I must keep my hands soft for you, my dearest. Look, this can wait. Why don't we go back to bed
and … ?' The rest of her sentence was lost as the door to their room was pushed firmly closed. Then she heard giggling and the creak of the bed. Rowan shook her head in disgust. Not for what they were doing, but for the way Fanny used her wiles to get out of the household chores.

Kissing the mirror and giving thanks to it for confusing the enemy, she beseeched it to continue its good work. Then quickly throwing on her dress, she brushed the tangles out of her hair and ran downstairs to find Mrs Stokes. As usual the woman was checking the garments for stains before sorting them into separate piles.

‘Morning, my dear,' she said, when she saw Rowan standing in the doorway.

‘Sorry I slept in, Mrs Stokes. I was that tired after going to market yesterday. Fanny said you needed some wood ash – oh!' she gasped, seeing the full pail standing in its usual place inside the door.

The woman chuckled. ‘Just my little joke. Mrs High and Mighty was getting on my nerves so I thought it'd do her good to get her hands dirty. I never thought she'd bother you, Rowan, girl.'

‘You mean Fanny's been out here already this morning?' Rowan asked in surprise.

‘Oh, yes. Going on about having to supervise the hired help, she was. I tells you, girl, the day I need someone watching over me's the day I quit,' she muttered, scrubbing the cuffs of Edward's shirts with unnecessary vigour. ‘Anyhows, I'll finish this little lot and leave it soaking, then be back on Monday to do the wash as usual.'

‘Thanks, Mrs Stokes. I don't know what we'd do without you,' Rowan said.

‘I prays you won't have to find out, me dear,' Mrs Stokes answered, grimacing as she rubbed the small of her back. ‘There seems to be a lot more for me to do these days, so happen I'll ask Fanny to pay me extra for seeing to her fancy finery,' she chuckled.

Rowan smiled and privately agreed, for the woman did work extremely hard.

As Rowan made her way down to the privy, she saw Sab busy digging.

‘Morning, Sab. I thought you'd be preparing for sowing,' she said.

He rested on his shovel and gave a wry grin. ‘Fanny told me I had to build this 'ere path like yesterday. Old Davey was saying that whilst we was at market, Fanny got chased by the gander on her way to the privy. Seems the toe of her fancy shoe got caught in the mud and she had to hop back indoors on one foot. Davey said he didn't know who was squawking most, her or the goose,' he said, chuckling. ‘She made a right tap and toe, and told Uncle the path's got to be done before the sowing.' He shook his head. ‘Uncle said he'd help, but I don't know where he's got to.'

Thinking it best not to mention what she'd heard earlier, Rowan changed the subject.

‘How's Blackthorn this morning?'

‘Sore, bless her. The tinks was here earlier. Said he had a message for Fanny. Anyhow, he's going to call in at the farrier on his way past and ask him to come over when he can. Probably try and flog him a new pan while he's at it, knowing him.'

‘Since when has the tinks been delivering messages to Fanny?' Rowan asked, frowning.

‘Don't know. Reckoned he called before the snow to see if we needed anything. Fanny said we didn't, but gave him a note to deliver. Anyhows, I better get back to it,' Sab said, picking up his shovel.

As Rowan hurried into the privy she wondered at her stepmother's cheek. How would she know if they needed any pots or pans? The woman hardly graced the kitchen with her presence, let alone cooked anything. Still, whatever was going on with Fanny and her messages it had nothing to do with her. Or did it? Could Fanny have anything to do with that Slimy? She shivered. She'd be on her guard next time she went to the market, she resolved. Having finished her ablutions, she popped into the barn.

‘Come to see the little uns?' old Davey asked, pointing to the corner where the latest two lambs were on their feet, bleating for food. ‘Happen that charm worked a treat, along with your tender care. Nearly had another couple for you to look out for earlier. Ewe over there rejected her young uns but no sooner did I show her the dog than she went into protective mode. Now she won't let me anywhere near them, which is as it should be, of course,' he laughed. ‘That Fanny's a queer one, though. Only asked me if I knew how many sheep there were on Dartmoor. Told her, if I ever had a spare month of Sundays I'd go and have a count of them.'

Although Rowan smiled, she couldn't help wondering what her stepmother was up to now.

Making her way back towards the farmhouse, Rowan could hear water dripping off the buildings and outhouses. A weak sun was washing the sky, and now with temperatures rising, the thaw had set in. Thoughts of warmer
weather and the coming spring lifted her spirits and she felt ready to tackle her bread making. Her mother had always said that a happy heart and warm hands made the best bread. Grabbing an armful of faggots from the rick, she hurried indoors and set about lighting the bread oven. Then, having measured out her ingredients, she set about her task. As ever, the rhythmic kneading soothed her senses and she was just putting the dough to rise when her father crept down the stairs. Seeing her busy at the table, he looked shame-faced.

‘Fanny needed me upstairs,' he muttered.

‘Sab's been working on that path for some time now, Father, and I reckon he could do with a hand. Now the thaw's set in you'll need to have it finished before the moon's right for sowing,' she pointed out.

‘Since when do I need you to tell me what needs doing around my own farm?' he grunted, slamming the door behind him so hard the pots rattled on the dresser. So much for a nice peaceful morning, Rowan thought.

Later, with the bread cooling on the table and Rowan about to go out to the dairy to make more cheese, Fanny appeared.

‘Good morning, Rowan,' she chirped. ‘I see the weather's improving, so I thought I'd get Edward to take me shopping. Before that, though, I need to see to the accounts. How much did you make at the market yesterday?' Rowan put her hand in her pocket and drew out a handful of coins. ‘Is that all?' her stepmother asked, looking suspiciously at her.

‘Actually, that's more than we usually make, Fanny. Of course, I did buy the green ribbon but that was with the
money Aunt Sal gave me. And, Fanny …' she stuttered to a halt as the woman's pebble gaze bore into her.

‘Yes, Rowan, do go on,' she said, moving closer so that she towered over Rowan.

‘Well, the thing is, I actually bought that ribbon for myself. I was going to trim the homespun I'd dyed with elder,' she said, refusing to be intimidated.

‘I see,' Fanny said, silence hanging in the air. Then she gave a brittle laugh. ‘Well, I knew that all along.'

‘You did?' Rowan asked.

‘Yes, of course. It's not as though you particularly like me, is it, Rowan?'

‘Well, I …' she mumbled, feeling awkward yet not given to lying.