Replenish the Earth (8 page)

She unpacked the basket, whose contents brought tears to her eyes, for it was a gift from the landlady of the Golden Fleece and Prue had done her proud. There was a pie, a crusty four-pound loaf, a jar of fruit preserve, a pat of golden butter, stamped with a rose, two wax candles and a jug of milk, its top stoppered by a wrinkled apple.

She set to work to finish her bedroom, removing her grandfather’s things from the chest and laying her own meagre belongings inside it instead. Not nearly enough to fill it - just as she would feel lost on her own in the huge bed with its high pedestal.

At noon she shared the food with her new retainers, watching them eat with the hunger that only long deprivation can give. She had lived among such hunger for too long to mistake it. If she was able, she vowed to herself, she would ensure that Mary and her son never went hungry again.

‘I think I’ll have to send to the village to buy more supplies,’ she said while Mary was clearing the table.

‘Yes, mistress. Janey Bell keeps a little shop there. She sells all sorts of things.’

‘Would Petey go with me to carry the baskets, do you think?’ 

Mary's hand went up to her mouth in a gesture of dismay. ‘Oh, mistress. Oh dearie me. I’m sorry to tell you no, but he daresn't.’

‘Why ever not?’

‘It’s them men of Sewell’s, mistress. They d’torment my poor lad something cruel. He ent been into the village for over a year, now. But if you ask her, Janey Bell will lend you one of her children for a ha’penny to carry a basket back for you. Or she has a handcart. Maybe you could use that - if you’re buying a lot of things. If you got some wheat flour - she buys the good stuff from the miller in Sawbury - we could make proper bread.’ She licked her lips at the thought.

‘I’ll go to see her myself tomorrow, then.’ Sarah wasn’t looking forward to the long walk, though - especially if those dark skies meant rain.

To her relief, Will Pursley turned up that afternoon to ask her if she’d like him to take her into the village to buy anything

‘That’s very kind of you.’

‘It was my mother who thought of it.’ It wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to tell Mistress Bedham he’d been worrying about her.

They hardly spoke to one another on the way there. Perhaps one day she’d be able to afford a pony and a small conveyance of some kind. You needed them in the country, it seemed. She’d have to learn how to drive one first, but it didn’t look hard, not on these quiet country lanes.

‘You should call on Parson,’ Will said after a few minutes’ driving in silence. ‘It’d be proper for you to make his acquaintance.’

‘Oh, yes. I’d be happy to do that. Is he married?’

‘No. And he’s quite old now.’ He pointed. ‘Mrs Bell's shop is the third house after the inn, the one with the bow window. It’s one of your properties still, actually, and she’s  a good tenant, Janey Bell is. I’ll come across and tell you if Mr Rogers is well enough to see you. He’s been ill. And ‘I’ll drive you back afterwards, if you like. I have some - er, things to attend to in the village.’

‘Thank you.’ She guessed he was waiting for her on purpose, but she couldn’t afford to be proud. And in any case, she didn’t think she could face the journey back to the Manor on foot, especially with a load of provisions.

Sarah went into the inn first to return Prue’s basket and found herself being catechised about how she had found things at the Manor, all in a very respectful but nonetheless determined way. Prue had clearly decided to take Miss Elizabeth's daughter under her capacious wing.

Will peered through the open door to say, ‘Parson’s happy to see you, Mistress Bedham,’ then vanished before Sarah could say anything.

Prue watched him walk away and sighed. ‘Had a hard time, Will has. Fine young man, though. ’Tis a pity there aren’t more like him.’ 

Sarah made her way across the village green towards the cottage that Prue had pointed out to her as Mistress Bell’s shop. The door was open, but when she went inside, there was no one waiting to serve her. She could hear voices coming from the back room, so after a moment or two, she called out, ‘Hello! Is anyone there?’

The sounds ceased abruptly and a thin-faced woman of about Sarah’s own age peered through the low doorway at the back of the shop. ‘Dear, oh Lord!’ she exclaimed. ‘I never heard that door go. Just a minute, please.’ She vanished again, to be heard yelling, ‘Susan! You see that our Bessie eats her bread, then you can scrub that table.’

When she reappeared, she was smiling brightly, ready to give her full attention to her customer. ‘I’m that sorry, mistress. I usually hear the door opening when folks come in.’

‘The door was already open.’

‘Drat the boy! I told him to shut it behind him!’ She looked at Sarah with frank curiosity. ‘What can I get for you, Mistress Bedham?’

‘I have a whole list of things that I need.’ Sarah made as though to hand over the piece of paper and Mistress Bell went red.

‘I
can
read a bit,’ she said stiffly, ‘but it’d be a sight quicker if you read your list out to me. I’m not very fast.’ She went even redder and added, ‘And I’ll hev to ask you to pay for the things now, if you please. I can’t afford to give credit, not even to the gentry. Hoping I don’t give no offence, mistress, but me bein’ on my own, I hev to be careful.’

Sarah smiled reassuringly. ‘That’s all right. I prefer to pay as I buy, then I know where I stand, too.’

Mistress Bell's sigh of relief was audible. ‘What be you wantin', then, Mistress Bedham?’   

‘Just about everything, I’m afraid. Mary helped me to make a list, but if you think of anything else I might need, please tell me, for there are few stores of anything left at the Manor and I’m not used to country ways.’

‘I’ll be very happy to oblige.’ Mistress Bell beamed at her, then yelled, ‘Susan! Fetch my stool for Mistress Bedham this minute!’

The stool was brought within seconds by a little girl who gaped at the newcomer till her mother hissed at her not to stare like a scarecrow in a field! Then Mistress Bell settled down to fill a satisfying large order.

As Sarah left the shop, two men turned round to eye her speculatively and with a sinking heart she recognised Sewell’s bullies. They were standing on their own in front of the blacksmith's forge and everyone was giving them a wide berth. However, they made no move towards her. More conscious than usual of her limp, she made her way across the green.

The front door of the parsonage was opened by a dignified older woman, who dropped a small curtsey and begged Mistress Bedham to step inside. ‘Parson’s waiting for you in his study. We’ve had to take the sofa in there for him, for he
would
be near his books!’

She bustled across the hallway and raised her hand to tap on a door. From inside the room came a scuffling sound. ‘There!’ she exclaimed, dignity forgotten. ‘If he hasn’t been an’ got up off his sofa again!’ She flung the door open. ‘I heard you, Parson! You've been walking around again! What did the doctor say about resting? How will you get better if you don’t do as you're told and rest! Now, here's Mistress Bedham come to see you,’ She straightened the blanket over his legs. ‘I’ll go and fetch your tea-tray.’ 

Sarah looked across at Mr Rogers, longing to laugh, and he smiled at her conspiratorially. ‘I can’t call my soul my own,’ he murmured, ‘but she’s an excellent housekeeper and makes the most splendid scones and cakes.’

‘You’re fortunate in having such a loyal servant, sir.’

‘I am. The Lord has been truly kind to me. Mistress Jenks undoubtedly saved my life by her devoted nursing this winter. I’m well enough now to chafe at my bonds, but not well enough to be independent of her good offices. However, we mustn’t waste your time today in talking about me. First, let me welcome you to Broadhurst and tell you how happy I am to meet you, my dear. I’m only sorry that I wasn’t able to welcome you in person when you arrived.’

Sarah fumbled in her muff. ‘I have here the deposition made to identify me, which you will wish to see.’

‘No, no, my dear! I really don’t . .. ’

‘I would prefer to show it to you, sir, in case anyone queries my right to Broadhurst. You are the proper person, I believe.’

‘Well, if you insist.’ He skimmed through the parchment rapidly, then returned it to her. ‘All in order, as I expected, my dear. Now, is there some way I can help you?’

Sarah found herself telling him her whole story and asking for his advice.

‘Well, if your mind is set on staying, I see no reason why you should not do so, my dear. The Manor has been sadly neglected, both house and land - what land is left, that is - and I would be glad to see it kept from Sewell, even if you cannot maintain it all in good repair. He’s a harsh master, that man is, though I don’t like to speak ill of others. As for Will, he’s a good farmer and an honest man, and any advice he gives you about the Manor would be well worth following. I have to own to being a little prejudiced in his favour, though, for he is by way of being a protégé of mine.’

The door banged open and Mistress Jenks marched in, carrying a large tray set with a snowy cloth. On it stood a silver chocolate pot and a plate of fluffy scones. ‘Now, you be sure to eat something, Parson,’ she scolded. ‘You won’t get any better if you make such poor meals as you have lately!’

‘Mistress Jenks - could we find a few of your delicious cakes or scones for Mistress Bedham to take with her, do you think? They’ll not have had the chance to do any baking yet at Broadhurst.’

'Certainly, sir. That Mary Hames is no cook, though an honest body and a hard worker, and I respect her for keeping that son of hers off the parish. Yes, Parson, I’ll see to it at once.’

As she left, Mr Rogers sighed and looked at the food. ‘I would be glad of a dish of chocolate, my dear, but I must confess that I don’t feel like eating.’

So Sarah found herself joining the ranks of those who loved and bullied their impractical and absent-minded parson. ‘Just one scone. See, I’ll spread a little of this delicious-looking preserve on it for you and you can eat it quickly while I pour the chocolate. Then it’s over and done with, and I shan’t press you to eat any more.’

Not for nothing had she nursed her mother over the last few months and learned how to coax a failing appetite.

After a while she saw him looking tired, so took her leave.

He clasped her hand in his for a moment. ‘It’s been a pleasure to meet you. You must come and visit me whenever you’re in the village and I shall come and call on you when I’m recovered. And - I wish you well, my dear. May the good Lord keep you safe.’

In the hallway, Mistress Jenks picked up a loaded basket, covered with a white cloth, and handed it to Sarah. She waved aside any thanks and ushered the visitor politely but inexorably out of the door, saying, ‘For he’ll not settle till the house is quiet again, mistress.’ 

Will Pursley was waiting across the village green, with Sarah’s other purchases already loaded on his cart. After she’d paid Mistress Bell, he helped her up in silence and clicked to the horse to set off. Already the daylight was beginning to fade.

As they turned up the lane to Broadhurst, Molly slowed down to a walking pace to negotiate the ruts, seeming not to need her master’s guidance. He let the reins lie slack in his hands and looked sideways at Sarah. ‘Still determined to live here?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then if I’m to stay on at the home farm, I’ll buy some cattle I’ve been offered. I didn’t dare do that till I knew how things stood.’

‘Mr Rogers speaks very highly of your ability as a farmer, sir. You must come and tell me how the rest of the estate stands and give me your advice.’

As they drew up outside the kitchen, she frowned, thinking aloud. ‘I believe I’ll need to hire another maidservant, one who can help me round the house and go shopping into the village on wet days. I’m afraid I’m a little slow at walking and cannot always be troubling you for a ride. Do you know of anyone suitable?’

Will, who was now unloading her purchases, swung round at her words. ‘A maidservant, did you say?’ 

‘Yes. But not a lady's maid, just a woman or girl who is not afraid of hard work and who will turn her hand to anything. Why do you ask? Do you know of someone looking for a place?’

He nodded. ‘Yes. She’s called Hannah Blair, and she’s the sister of one of my former cowmen. She’s a widow and hasn’t been in service before, but she’s a good worker. Her husband died recently - he was ploughman to Farmer Hotton, whose land lies outside the village on the Sawbury road - and she’s got to get out of the farm cottage. Hotton’s done his best for her, let her stay on there for an extra week or two till she finds something else, but he needs the cottage now for his new man. She’s tramped all over the place asking for work, but there’s none to be had. And she has a young daughter too, Hetty.’

‘'Can she not move to another district?’ Sarah didn’t feel able to hire two maids.

‘If she tries to move away from Broadhurst, the other parishes will send her back here, so that she doesn’t fall on their poor rates. And if she has to go into the poorhouse, they’ll sell off all her furniture and take her daughter away from her. They put all able-bodied children over five out into service, so as not to have the expense of feeding them.’

‘That’s cruel.’

‘Well, at least that way they eat better than they would in the poorhouse. I wouldn’t feed my pigs on what they give those poor wretches. Hannah’s terrified of going inside, but it’s a harsh world for a widow with no family to help her. In the old days, my family could have done something, but now . . ’ He shrugged.

Sarah chose her words carefully. ‘I would be happy to see this woman, if you let her know. How old is the child?’

‘I’m not sure. Nine or ten.’

‘I couldn’t pay the child any wages, but tell Mrs Blair to bring her daughter with her. The little girl could no doubt earn her keep by helping in small ways - if the woman seems suitable, that is.’ Sarah knew what it was like to be nearly destitute.