The Royal Lacemaker (36 page)

‘Good evening, Mrs Staple,'
her employer replied. ‘It
has been a most taxing time but we
must bear these inconveniences for our Queen, mustn't we?'

Lily stared at Mrs Bodney in amazement.
Taxing time? Why, they'd stopped at two coaching houses, been well looked
after and eaten two splendid meals. How difficult was that? Noticing her expression,
Mrs Bodney snapped her fingers.

‘Don't just stand there
gawping, girl. The driver will see to our things.'

Mrs Staple turned and smiled kindly at
Lily, then turned back to Mrs Bodney.

‘I've a nice bit of stew
simmering, if you're hungry.'

‘Thank you, no. We have already
eaten and are ready to retire for the night,' Mrs Bodney replied briskly.

‘Well, your rooms are ready so
I'll show you where to go,' Mrs Staple said affably, and before Lily
could blink, she was being led up a narrow staircase and shown into a bedroom.
Glancing around, she saw it was smaller than the one she'd had at Picky
Pike's, but clean and tidy. To her delight, it also had a washstand in the
corner.

‘Right, Lily, I think this will do
fine for you,' said the housekeeper. ‘Once your bag has been brought up,
I suggest you get some sleep. I know it's early but there's much to be
done in the morning.' And with that she bustled from the room.

Thankfully, Lily sank onto the bed and
closed her eyes. She wished the room would stop swaying. Why, she felt as if
she'd travelled halfway round the world today. She heard footsteps coming up
the stairs and the murmur of voices as they passed her room.

‘It wasn't fair on Margaret,
though.'

‘I know, but
there's little we can do. This other one's better at the job, I was
told.'

‘She's a right country
bumpkin, by all accounts, so I'm having as little to do with her as
possible.' The voices drifted off down the landing and Lily couldn't
help feeling sorry for this poor country bumpkin, whoever she was.

Waking the next morning in the narrow
little bed, Lily took a few moments to remember where she was. Gingerly she sat up,
relieved to find the room was no longer swaying. Then hearing the sound of people
going about their business, she jumped out of bed and splashed her face with water
from the ewer on the washstand. She'd only just finished dressing and was
smoothing down her apron, when there was a brisk knock on the door. Before she could
answer, Mrs Bodney entered the room.

‘Come along, Lily, Mrs
Staple's serving porridge. Apparently, everyone here eats together, so it will
be a good opportunity to introduce you to the others.' Then before Lily could
answer, she disappeared down the stairs, leaving Lily to follow her.

‘Morning, Mrs Bodney,'
trilled Mrs Staple. ‘Did you sleep all right, dearie?' she asked turning
to Lily, who nodded happily.

‘Morning, Mrs Staple,' Mrs
Bodney replied. Then to Lily's surprise she announced to the room in general,
‘This is Lily, one of the finest lace makers in Devonshire.'

‘Well done, dearie,' the
housekeeper answered. ‘Now you sit yourselves down and I'll get
serving.'

Lily smiled as she sat down next to
Maria, the sour-faced woman who had opened the door the previous evening.
But her smile was met with a glacial glare. Shaken, she then
noticed half a dozen other ladies eyeing her curiously.

‘Morning, everybody,' she
said brightly, but their bowls suddenly seemed to be of greater interest as they
busied themselves with their breakfast. Silence hung heavily in the room but Mrs
Bodney wasn't having that.

‘Right, let's enjoy our meal
and then I'll introduce you all to Lily,' she said briskly. This was
still met with silence but, to Lily's amazement, her employer winked at her.
Thankfully, it seemed Mrs Bodney was in charge here as well.

Lily's relief was short-lived,
though, for no sooner had they finished than Mrs Staple reappeared saying,
‘Mrs Bodney, there's a visitor to see you.'

‘Thank you, Mrs Staple,' she
answered, getting to her feet. ‘Right, everyone, as I said earlier, this is
Lily, my overseer from Bransbeer. Whilst I attend to my guest, I'd like you to
introduce yourselves and make her feel welcome. We will begin work as soon as I
return.'

As soon as the door shut behind her,
Maria turned to Lily and glared.

‘Boss's pet,' she
snarled. ‘You're naught but a lace maker. We sewers and finishers are
highly skilled and we look after our own. You mark my words, we'll see you
gone before the day's out.'

Murmurs of agreement rippled around the
table and Lily's heart sank. Their belligerent faces said everything. Well,
she hadn't asked to come here and she certainly wasn't going to stay
where she wasn't wanted. She'd pack her things and return to Bransbeer
on the first staging. Naught but a lace maker indeed!

Peasants are plucky people. They don't run when the going gets rough. Come
along, Lily; show them lace makers are made of sterner stuff.

As she heard her father's words,
strength flooded through her. She was proud to be a lace maker and had never been
one to walk away when the going was tough, so why should she now? Squaring her
shoulders, she stared back at the sewers and finishers.

‘I am not going anywhere,'
she announced. Judging by their astonished reaction, they'd obviously not been
expecting her to bite back. As one, they turned to Maria.

‘You're not wanted here,
country bumpkin. Go back to Bransbeer where you belong,' she snarled, her lips
tightening into a mean slit.

‘But you don't know anything
about me,' Lily said, trying to reason with them.

‘As if that matters. You took our
Margaret's job. We'll not forgive you for that.'

‘Margaret's not skilled
enough to do this intricate work, as well you know, Maria,' Mrs Bodney
announced from the back of the room, where she'd slipped in unnoticed.
‘However, Lily is, and what's more, she's here to stay. If anyone
has a problem with that, they can leave right now,' she added, looking
directly at Maria, who flushed as red as a rosehip. ‘Now, I want you all to
welcome Lily.' She
paused, waiting until the old woman
grudgingly mumbled some kind of greeting and the others, taking her lead, followed
suit.

‘Remember, ladies, there's
never any excuse for being rude or offensive to anyone who's trying to do
their job,' Mrs Bodney admonished, and Lily's eyes widened at this
pronouncement. Weren't they her very words from the previous day? She had no
time to dwell on the matter, though, for Mrs Bodney was clapping her hands.

‘Right, we've wasted enough
time. I have sorted the exact number of sprigs required for assembly of the flounce,
so follow me,' she ordered, leading them into a light, airy room at the back
of the house. ‘The designs I'm about to show you are confidential, so
once you've seen them, you will be required to remain in this building until
the sewing up is finished.'

‘But I've got to see to my
mother,' Maria declared. Lily gazed at the wizened old woman, whose face was
as creased as a concertina, and couldn't help wondering how ancient her mother
was.

‘We've already discussed
this, Maria,' Mrs Bodney snapped. ‘When your cousin Margaret failed the
sewing test, it was agreed she'd look after your mother whilst you stayed
here.' Turning to the rest of them she continued, ‘Before I show you the
drawings, you must solemnly swear not to divulge to another living soul what you see
in this room.'

‘Well, if we ain't allowed
out, we won't be seeing anyone to tell, will we?' Maria sniggered.

‘Right, that's it.
I've had enough of your obstreperous attitude, Maria. Pack your things and
go.'

‘I was
only—' the other woman started to say, but Mrs Bodney was already calling for
the housekeeper.

‘Mrs Staple, Maria has decided to
leave, so please see that she packs her things and then escort her from the
premises. Oh, and bring me a bell so I can ring for you in future. My voice is not
used to all this shouting.'

If the housekeeper was surprised by
these requests, she didn't show it. Nodding politely, she followed the
protesting Maria from the room. The others started to voice their objections, but
Mrs Bodney held up her hand.

‘That's quite enough. None
of you is indispensable, so if you feel unable to comply with my terms, please leave
now.' She waited, studying them closely but no one moved. ‘Then be
seated and I'll show you what's to be done,' Mrs Bodney continued,
spreading out a drawing on the table before them.

‘Now, this is how the flounce is
to look when it's assembled,' she said, and they all leaned forward in
their seats to see where her finger was pointing. ‘You are to lay out the
sprigs according to the design pattern. When you've done that, call me. I will
check everything's in order before you proceed further.' Then she swept
from the room in a rustle of skirts.

‘Cor, she's a bit of a
tartar, isn't she?' whispered the plump girl who was sitting opposite
Lily. Lily knew that Mrs Bodney's tongue was really no sharper than a blunt
bobbin, so she merely shrugged. Her recent experience in the workroom had taught her
that a little fear was no bad thing.

When all the sprigs had been set out,
Mrs Bodney was sent for. Anxiously they watched as she meticulously checked their
work.

‘Right,
ladies,' she finally pronounced. ‘You may now begin to sew. As I have to
account to the Queen's Mistress of the Robes, all the materials have been
weighed. There is no room for error.' She eyed them seriously, waiting whilst
her words sank in. ‘Work carefully and conscientiously. Remember, Her Majesty
will soon be wearing what you are making here. Won't that be something for you
to tell your children and grandchildren?' she smiled.

‘Aren't you going to help us
to sew it up, then?' asked one of the women.

‘Now, why would I have a dog and
bark myself?' Mrs Bodney asked, before sweeping out of the room. So now it was
dogs, thought Lily, shaking her head. Cats in Bransbeer, dogs in Honiton – really,
it was all quite beyond her!

Picking up her needle and thread, she
started to sew. The others followed her lead, and the room fell silent as they
concentrated on their work.

At noon, Mrs Bodney reappeared ringing a
little bell and announcing, ‘Right, ladies, Mrs Staple has broth ready for you
in the kitchen. Whilst you take your break, I'll inspect the work you've
been doing this morning.'

Lily stared at her employer in surprise.
Not more food already? But to her amazement, when a steaming bowl was put before her
she found she was hungry.

‘What's Bransbeer
like?' asked the plump girl, who'd finished her meal in record time.

‘It's a fishing hamlet by
the sea,' Lily answered. ‘What's your name?'

‘Rosie.'

‘Yeah, dozy Rosie,' chuckled
the woman who was sitting next to her. ‘I'm Caroline, ducks. Sorry if we
gave you a
hard time earlier. Maria was that cross when Mrs Bodney
told her you were to do the sewing up instead of her Margaret, she told us to ignore
you.'

‘Yeah,' Rosie chipped in,
‘she said, ignore the country bumpkin and she'll go running home with
her tail between her legs. You ain't got a tail, have you?' she asked,
her eyes hopeful.

‘Don't be daft,
Rosie,' Caroline chided before turning back to Lily and raising her eyebrows.
‘You can see how she got her name.'

‘Ah, but Rosie's stitching
is the finest here,' Mrs Bodney announced, coming into the room. ‘Right,
ladies, you've all done well this morning. Now I have some bad news, and some
good news. The bad news is there is no one skilled enough to replace Maria. This
means we will all have to work on later each evening to get the job finished in
time.' She waited for the groans to die down. ‘The good news is that you
will be splitting her wage between you.' Then, as they all cheered, she
clapped her hands saying, ‘Right, ladies, back to work.'

All afternoon they sewed, but the ice
had been broken and the atmosphere in the room was convivial. Before long Lily found
herself relaxing to the rhythm of her stitching, happy to listen to the conversation
going on around her. Clearly, the sewers had all known each other for some time.

As the shadows lengthened and their
energy began to flag, silence descended. As Mrs Staple bustled in with candles and
strikes, an enticing aroma wafted through the open door behind her. They all sniffed
the air appreciatively.

‘I've just boiled a nice bit
of bacon for your supper,
dearies. Oh, and Mrs Bodney says you can
finish at seven tonight, seeing as it's your first day.'

They looked at each other in amazement.
Bacon for supper?

‘Coo, we only gets that on high
days and holidays,' Caroline exclaimed.

‘I'll be as round as a
barrel if we keep eating like this,' Rosie said, looking down at her ample
figure and grimacing. They all giggled, and then, with the thought of a special
supper to look forward to, set about their sewing with renewed vigour.

‘Oh bleeding Nora.'

They all looked up in surprise.

‘Whatever's the matter,
Christina?' Caroline asked.

‘I've only gone and sewn
this spray to me apron, haven't I?' she wailed.

Caroline went over to look, then
groaned. ‘Cripes, you've made a right blooming mess of that. We'll
have to cut it off.'

‘Is there no
other way?' Christina asked, looking hopefully at Lily, who walked round the
table and examined the flounce.

‘Take off your apron and
I'll see if we can prise it apart without damaging the lace,' she said.
But it was no use, the stitching was too tight. She shook her head.
‘We'll need to cut it off, I'm afraid.'

‘Won't that ruin the
work?' Christina asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.

‘It's the only way of
separating your apron from the rest of the flounce. Stand up,' she said,
snatching up scissors and deftly easing the stitching around the sprig.

‘Is there some problem?' Mrs
Bodney asked, appearing in the doorway.

Christina sank onto her stool but the
others turned and looked at Lily expectantly.

‘Nothing we can't sort out,
Mrs Bodney,' she said, forcing her lips into a smile.

‘Hmm,' the other woman said
doubtfully. ‘Well, when you've all finished what you are doing, make
sure your work is covered. Supper is waiting for you in the kitchen.'

As Mrs Bodney disappeared, Christina
stood up, turning to Lily in dismay.

‘Look, it's hanging from me
apron now. What shall I do?'

‘There's only one thing for
it. We'll have to cut the sprig off. Stand still,' she ordered,
carefully cutting around the lace while leaving the apron intact. The sprig,
however, was ruined.

‘Let's cover up the work and
go through to the kitchen,' she said as the others hovered impatiently for
their supper, despite the predicament.

‘Won't we be one sprig short
now?' Caroline asked.

‘Oh, she'll kill me when she
finds out. All that work wasted,' Christina wailed.

‘Look, it's only the one
sprig that's actually ruined,' said Lily, inspecting their work.
‘The rest of the flounce is fine.'

‘But she said she'd counted
the sprigs and weighed the materials,' Caroline said. ‘Oh, Christina,
you are a clumsy oaf.'

‘Name calling's not going to
change anything. Let's go and eat or Mrs Bodney will know something's
up,' Lily said. But as she led the way through to the kitchen,
she couldn't help wondering what they were going to do.

Despite their predicament, the hot bacon
and freshly baked bread laid out on the table proved too tempting to resist. Even
Christina was tucking in as though she'd never seen such food before. Maybe
she hadn't, Lily thought. After all, she didn't really know anything
about these women she'd found herself amongst. Except now, it seemed, they
were looking to her for direction.

As Lily ate she pondered their problem.
They'd need to make another sprig, that much was evident. Typically, the
designs on the flounce were larger than those on the veil. She had her pillow and
bobbins upstairs, of course, for no self-respecting lace maker would ever travel
without those. No, the problem was lack of thread. But Mrs Bodney had slipped back
into the room and was addressing them.

‘Christina, please can you explain
why you have threads hanging from your apron?'

‘I, erm, that is …' she
muttered, looking down at the table.

‘For heaven's sake, answer
me, girl. I am not an ogre. Has there been some mishap?' Mrs Bodney
demanded.

As one the sewers all turned to
Lily.

‘There has been a slight one, Mrs
Bodney. A sprig got joined to an extra piece of material by mistake.'

Mrs Bodney raised her eyebrows.
‘That much is evident. First I noticed the sprig missing from the flounce and
then I saw the extra threads hanging from Christina's apron. Well, it
didn't take a genius to work out what had happened, did it? What I want to
know is, why wasn't I told?'

The room fell silent
as they stared down at their empty plates.

‘Well, I'll tell you
why,' Mrs Bodney continued. ‘It was because you thought you
wouldn't get the special supper I'd laid on, and believe you me, when I
came into the workroom and saw the state of the flounce, I was tempted to send you
all to bed without any.'