Annie Page 7

  Meg nodded. ‘Aye Father. I did.’

  ‘Rose?’

  ‘Pig pen’s locked and henhouse fastened, Father.’

  ‘Good. Our Lily will show thee to thy bed, Mrs Hope, when tha’s ready. I’ll say goodnight, but no hurry, take tha time.’

  As soon as he had disappeared from the room there was a flurry of activity. Meg and Rose whipped away the dirty dishes and plates, Joan wiped down the table with a wet cloth, and Lily built up the fire with logs.

  ‘Now,’ said Lily, turning towards them and dusting her hands together to remove the ash. ‘Come on, Robin, lets see what tha’s got in them packs.’

  Robin grinned and went to fetch the packs from a corner of the room where he had left them.

  ‘Why there’s nowt much left, Miss Lily. Mrs Hope here is a right good trader. We’re practically out o’ cotton, onny fancy stuff left, nowt that thy would want, muslins and nets and such.’ He winked at Annie as he leaned past her to place the packs in front of Lily.

  ‘Wait. Wait for us.’ Meg and Rose squealed from the other room where there was a clatter of pots and pans.

  ‘Leave them,’ Joan called. ‘Tha can do them later when Mrs Hope’s gone to bed.’

  ‘Tha can call me Annie.’ Annie said shyly. She wasn’t used to formality, and Lily and Joan, she thought were probably of her age, if not older.

  ‘Has tha got a husband, Annie?’ Joan asked curiously.

  ‘Me husband’s dead. I’m a widow.’ Annie bent her head as if in sorrow.

  ‘Does tha like working for Master Linton?’ Meg came into the room and stood by Annie’s chair. ‘Doesn’t tha think he’s handsome?’ She closed her eyes and puckered her lips.

  ‘That’s enough, Meg.’ Lily was sharp. ‘Mrs Hope’s just said she’s a widow.’

  ‘Oh, I beg thy pardon, I didn’t hear. How long has tha been a widow?’

  It feels like years, Annie thought. Scrimping and saving on Seaman’s Sixpence. Still, without it we’d have starved.

  ‘Less then six months,’ she said softly, trying to put sadness in her voice. ‘Now I’ve to make me own living.’

  ‘Tha must be heartbroken.’ Meg’s eyes were full of sympathy. ‘Why Lily, can tha imagine? Mrs Hope must be onny same age as thee, imagine losing ’man tha loves, when tha’s onny young.’

  ‘Aye.’ Annie sighed. ‘I wanted for nowt, and now I’m penniless and driven to working as a hawker. Not that Master Linton isn’t kind,’ she added hastily, in case she had gone too far. ‘He’s a very fair employer – more than patient to somebody not used to working for a living.’

  ‘I heard that he’s vowed never to marry.’ Meg’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Mrs Morpeth’s niece has a friend who’s cousin works for his father in his kitchen, and she said that he’s been crossed in love and has pledged celibacy, even though there’s another lady willing to have him.’

  ‘Don’t talk such nonsense.’ Lily reached out to slap her. ‘If tha doesn’t shut up tha can take tha self off to bed.’

  Chastened, Meg sat on the floor while Annie, vaguely thinking that there was no smoke without fire, opened up the parcels of muslins and nets, and began deftly draping them about Meg and Rose, softly folding the lengths of cloth about their hair and shoulders, while Robin, his eyes misty and lips apart, gazed dreamily at them.

  ‘Wilt tha have a dish of tay, Annie, afore tha goes to bed?’ Lily having decided on the household purchases and a length of fine cotton for herself, stood up, while her sisters hummed and hawed over which colour and fabric suited them the best.

  ‘Aye. I’d appreciate that no end. I allus used to take tea about this time,’ she emphasized sorrowfully. ‘In ’old days I mean.’

  Lily nodded sympathetically and hung the kettle which was standing at the side of the hearth, on to the hook over the fire. ‘Fetch me ’tay caddy, Rose. Look sharp now, ’kettle’s almost on boil.’

  Rose returned with the caddy and Lily took a key from her pocket and opened it.

  ‘Oh. Would tha look at that. Here am I offering our visitors tay, and ’box is near empty. There’s onny enough for a mashing either tonight or in ’morning. Which would tha prefer, Annie?’

  She held the caddy towards Annie and she peered in. There was very little tea in the bottom; as Lily had said, only enough for one brewing. As she tipped the box towards her, Annie saw the glint of coins beneath the leaves; she looked up and caught an enquiring glance in Lily’s eyes.

  ‘Tomorrow, Lily,’ she said. ‘Let’s keep it ’till ’morning.’

  Robin was given a palliasse by the fire, and there was a truckle bed made ready for Annie in a corner of the girls’ room. She fell into it just as soon as she could make her escape from the excited chatter of Joan, Meg and Rose who talked and giggled about the designs they would make for their new dresses.

  ‘Who’ll see thee in them?’ Lily had asked, as she’d grudgingly agreed to their purchases. ‘Nobody, that’s who. Onny chapel folk, and they’ll have plenty to say about it.’

  ‘I hope tha fayther won’t be angry about thee buying fancy stuff?’ Annie sat up in bed as Lily came into the room; she’d been worrying in case they got into trouble.

  ‘Nay, he won’t. We all twist him round our fingers. We get most of what we want.’ Her solemn face brightened as she smiled but then became dismal again. ‘Except for what we really want – men’s company. We’re all doomed to be old maids.’

  ‘Nowt wrong wi’ that.’ Annie yawned and stretched. ‘Not everybody makes a good match. Happen tha’s better off without a man. Tha might get somebody who beats thee and doesn’t treat thee right.’ She sat up and leaned on one elbow. ‘That’s what I’ve heard anyroad. I wouldn’t know of course. I never had owt to complain about.’

  Lily came and sat on her bed. ‘I had an arrangement wi’ Mrs Trott,’ she whispered. ‘She used to get me—’

  ‘Tea. Aye. I know. But there wasn’t a shipment this time round. I’ll have to bring it next time. But what about tha fayther? What did she bring him?’

  Lily looked blank. She shook her head. ‘Nowt, as far as I know. A bit o’ baccy maybe. Though – Master Linton comes himself sometimes, on his way to see his father, does tha think he brings summat?’

  ‘Nay. I must have been mistaken. Master Linton doesn’t travel wi’ goods himself.’

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ Lily started to undress. ‘Tha won’t mention to me father about ’tay, wilt tha? He’d be that mad if he knew what I was up to.’

  Robin banged on her door the next morning to waken her. All the Sutcliff girls were up and about their tasks, and from the kitchen came the smell of bacon, kidneys and thick pork sausage, and on the table as she went down were hot wheaten cakes, split and running with butter. Tea was made and a jug of ale was on the table.

  ‘Do we settle up wi’ thee or tha fayther,’ Annie asked as she finished her breakfast. ‘For our bed and board, I mean.’

  Lily hesitated. ‘Mrs Trott and me had—,’

  ‘An arrangement, aye, I know.’ Annie shouldered her almost empty pack. ‘But I’ve brought thee nowt.’

  ‘I don’t like to charge thee, not when tha’s on such hard times.’

  Annie stared. This was genuine compassion. She felt ashamed. She’d played on the sympathy of this kindhearted woman with her makebelieve of sorrowing widowhood.

  ‘Tha’s bought plenty from us,’ she said. ‘I’ll get paid from Master Linton, be sure of that. He’ll be generous, make no mistake.’

  ‘But,’ Lily looked down. ‘I’ve enjoyed thy company. Tha’s a lot livelier than Mrs Trott,’ she laughed.

  ‘I can’t make thee pay for me company.’ Annie reached beneath her skirt for her money bag. ‘I’ll give thee that for nowt, gladly.’ She handed over some money. ‘Take this for our food and lodgings, for Robin and me. It’s best I’ve ever had, and tha’ll be sure I’ll be back again.’

  Robin was talking to Mr Sutcliff as she went into the yard. The donkey was harnesse
d into the cart and it lifted its head and brayed as she approached.

  ‘He thinks we’re off home.’ Robin scratched the donkey’s back. ‘He’s allus a lot livelier going back.’

  ‘Tha’ll give Master Linton my regards, Mrs Hope? Tell him I look forward to a visit soon.’ Mr Sutcliff stood watching them as they put the depleted packs into the cart. ‘He, er, he didn’t send owt? A parcel or such?’

  Annie shook her head. ‘He didn’t. Probably next time.’

  He waved them off from the gate and they turned towards the next dale. The donkey brayed and rammed all four legs to a halt.

  ‘Come on tha daft brute.’ Robin cracked the whip above the animal’s head. ‘We’ve another day yet.’

  ‘Dost think it’s worth it, Robin?’

  ‘What?’ Robin took hold of the donkey’s snaffle and pulled, but it obstinately stood its ground.

  ‘Well we’ve hardly any cloth left. A few odd lengths o’ calico, not enough to make much. Some bits o’ net, and buttons and bootlaces. What’s women going to think if that’s all we’ve got to offer ’em? They might buy from ’next hawker that comes round. But if we don’t go, then they might wait for our next visit. They’ll know that tha usually has plenty o’ good stuff?’

  ‘Aye. Tha could be right, Annie. They’ll be disappointed I expect, if we haven’t got what they want.’

  ‘Let’s get back then. If we crack on a bit we’ll be back in Hessle by nightfall.’

  Annie set off in the opposite direction and Charlie with an eager bark, jumped down from the cart to follow her. The donkey pricked up his ears and set off at a trot after them which set Robin running.

  ‘Jump in Annie, if tha’s a mind.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ll walk for a bit, I’m enjoying this.’

  It was a fresh cool morning and she took in a deep breath of country air. By, this is grand, she thought. I can feel it doing me good. I don’t know if I could live here though, even though ’scenery is lovely. She looked down beyond the sheep studded banks into the dry valley bottom and saw ploughmen and their teams ploughing up the springy pasture, making ready for crops. What would I do for company? Those poor Sutcliff lasses. Nobody lively to talk to. They’ll get snowed in every winter I bet, and then no visitors at all. Onny pigs and geese for company.

  Towards midday they turned into the next valley and trotting along the narrow winding road towards them was a company of red-coated soldiers.

  ‘It’s ’same lot as before,’ Robin muttered. ‘What ’they after?’

  ‘Good day.’ The Scots sergeant was pleasant enough, though he didn’t smile. ‘We meet again!’

  ‘Aye.’ Annie nodded to him but noticed that he was looking in the back of the cart.

  ‘Have you done good business?’

  ‘Not bad.’

  He got down from his horse and gave the reins to one of his men. ‘Have you got anything interesting in your packs?’ Idly he picked one up and shook it, as if testing the weight.

  She smiled and lowered her lashes. ‘A few ribbons and fripperies. Would tha like to look, hast tha a lady to buy for?’

  There was a ripple of amusement from the men and the sergeant looked annoyed. ‘Open it,’ he demanded sharply.

  Annie took it from him, brushing her hand against his and smiling a shy apology. ‘There, sergeant,’ she breathed. ‘Pink or blue, or a pretty yellow, which colour would suit her? Or—.’ She leaned over him to reach for another pack. ‘If she’s not partial to colour, I’ve a piece o’ plain linen?’

  He shook his hand for her to fasten them up. ‘That’s not what I’m after.’

  ‘Well maybe next time. We’ll be getting fresh supplies. We’ll have good linen, nice muslins and such. Stop us if tha sees us and tha can have tha pick.’

  He swung back on to his horse. He looked tired and dusty, as all the men did, as if they had been riding all night.

  ‘Sergeant?’ She called him back as they prepared to ride away. ‘Could tha eat a good dinner?’

  ‘Oh, couldn’t I?’ he said wearily. ‘I’d be glad to get off this damned hoss’s back for an hour or two.’

  ‘I can tell thee where tha can get ’best food in ’Wolds, if there’s a mind for it. Good ale, and pleasant company.’ She shaped a female form with her hands.

  His face brightened, and his men turned eagerly towards her. ‘Will we be welcome? Not all folks round here will have us over the threshold.’

  ‘I can promise thee tha’ll be welcome, just be mindful o’ thy manners and treat ’daughters of ’house wi’ respect. Tell ’em Mrs Hope sent thee.’

  Robin gave them instructions for finding the Sutcliff inn and Annie translated slowly for them, for they still couldn’t understand him.

  ‘We’ll have to learn to talk proper, thee and me, Robin, if we wants to make our way in life.’ She watched them ride away up the hill.

  ‘I hope we’ve done right, Annie, sending them there. What if Mr Sutcliff won’t have ’em in?’

  ‘He’ll not turn them away. They’ll spend money with him. He’ll be glad to make on, with winter coming. And Sutcliff lasses will be thrilled to bits.’ She smiled and climbed into the cart. ‘I reckon we’ve done everybody a favour, including ourselves.’

  7

  ‘Does tha want to go straight home, Robin?’

  They had reached Hessle as dusk and a light rain were falling.

  ‘Tha might as well, no sense in coming back to ’Trotts, Toby won’t be there, and ’donkey will find his way home.’

  ‘If tha’s sure? Aye I will then. I’m dead beat.’

  They were both tired, the journey had seemed longer coming back, and they had had to walk up most of the hills, urging on the donkey who refused to carry their weight, and jumping in the cart as he gathered speed on the downward slopes.

  But Annie had delighted in the selling. Once she had got over her diffidence of talking to people, when she knew that she had something that they wanted, she began to feel the confidence of success. Her enthusiasm in the quality of the goods, and the way in which she handled the material as if it was something precious, influenced the women, whether cottagers, or cooks, housekeepers or farmers’ wives, and they had all bought from her.

  The pocket book which Toby had given her in which to record her sales she’d filled with pictures. For Mrs Corner she drew two circles, one on top of another to denote her roundness and she counted on her fingers the items she had bought, and drew short straight lines to mark how many. For another customer she drew a figure with a man’s hat on and a pipe in its mouth and a cloud of smoke issuing from the bowl, for the old woman had puffed constantly as they had shown her their goods, and Annie had thought that she would die of coughing. Four stick figures represented the innkeeper’s daughters, two taller than the others; and for the innkeeper, again, two fat circles – and she knew she would remember who had asked for the special arrangements.

  She took the reins from Robin and cracked the whip. She’d been wanting to do this since the start of their journey, only hadn’t liked to ask. To her surprise the animal moved off immediately, heading for home.

  She mused on another time when she had ridden in a cart. Francis had been driving it, and she had felt like a lady until he had ordered her out in no uncertain manner. She shivered as she thought about him and fear descended now that she was alone. Nobody knows him here, she told herself, or me. How could they? But she glanced nervously at passersby and pulled her shawl about her head.

  Mrs Trott had locked up for the night and Annie had to hammer on the door to be let in. The old woman grumbled at her and told her that she was back too early, that they should have stayed away another day.

  ‘We’ve sold out,’ Annie explained. ‘There was nowt left to sell. We’ve come back for fresh supplies.’

  ‘What? All muslins and that? Never!’

  ‘Aye. ’Whole lot, except for a few ribbons and bits of stuff. I kept getting asked for extras,’ she added slyly. ‘I wasn
’t sure what they meant.’

  Mrs Trott looked sour. ‘Aye well, I used to take a few bits o’ this and that, for special customers. I never reckoned on somebody else taking me place.’

  No wonder she’s got the hump, Annie thought. She must think Toby’s ditched her because of me. ‘Well maybe we can come to some arrangement, Mrs Trott. Think about it if tha wants.’

  Henry Trott arrived back from his night shift the next morning and Mrs Trott took herself off to the village to buy cheese from the dairy and meat from the butcher.

  ‘Tha can bring in wood and draw water and wash ’vegetables, and I’ll bring back a bit o’ shin for stew. Then tha can scrub ’table and sweep ’floor. Don’t sit about doing nowt and don’t disturb Mr Trott.’

  There’s not much chance of doing that, Annie thought, looking at him already in his bed with his nightcap askew, and his lips quivering. We’re going to have a performance any minute now.

  After stacking the wood at the side of the hearth she took a broom and swept up all the dust. She looked round. It looks clean enough to me. She’d never know if it was done or not. Annie brought in the water and then looked glumly at the pile of potatoes and turnips which she’d been told to scrub. She sighed and wandered to the door. The morning was damp and misty, winter was on its way.

  She closed the door to keep in the heat but the fire began to smoke, so she opened it a crack and then walked idly around the room. Mrs Trott had left out her bedding. Usually she folded it and put it into the chest, but today she had straightened it and left it on top of the lid.

  Annie took the blanket to the door, shook it and folded it and lifted the lid of the chest. She knelt down beside it and placed the blanket on top of the sheets and linens that were there. Idly she ran the material through her fingers. It was good stuff, quite fine, not ordinary fustian like most people used. Mrs Trott obviously treated herself to the best, although it looked unused.

  She lifted up the top layer, there was her own satin petticoat, washed and folded, and next to it another piece of coloured silk, underneath that was a fold of lace. ‘Why, she’s nowt but a squirrel,’ she muttered. ‘When’s she going to use these?’