The Girl with the Red Ribbon (11 page)

‘It's all right, Rowan. I don't particularly like you either. However, for Edward's sake we need to rub along, at least for the time being. But I really like that emerald ribbon so how about we do a deal? I will allow you to continue wearing that red scrap you refuse to take off and in return I will keep the green.' Fanny's eyes glinted as she gave Rowan a supercilious look. Rowan hesitated, her hand instinctively going to her wrist. ‘If you insist on having the green one, then you must hand over your red, which if you had an ounce of sense you'd realize would be the better deal. After all, the green is new, the red nothing but a frayed old rag.'

Rowan could feel her temper rising. ‘Mine is not a frayed rag, Fanny. It belonged to Mother and is my most treasured possession,' she declared.

‘Well, if you will insist, then I will keep the green,' Fanny said, a malicious gleam of satisfaction flaring in her
eyes. ‘Now, I need to go through the farm accounts, so perhaps you can get them for me.'

Rowan went over to the dresser and took down the well-worn book, placing it on the table. Carefully Fanny counted out the coins Rowan had given her and entered the figure at the end of the last column. Then she totted up the figures so quickly Rowan gasped.

‘Is something wrong?' Fanny asked, frowning.

‘No. It's just that I've never seen anyone add up so fast,' Rowan admitted. ‘It takes me much longer and I've been doing the accounts ever since Mother passed away.'

Fanny sighed. ‘I can assure you that keeping tabs on money is something that comes naturally to me, so you can rest assured the farm accounts will be in good hands.'

Forcing a smile, Rowan hurried out to the dairy where she set about making more soft cheese to replenish their supplies. The cool temperature helped calm her temper, and while her hands carried out their task automatically a plan formed in her mind. She would buy more ribbon when she next went to market and justify the extra cost by making more caps and mittens to sell. Fanny might be able to add up quicker than she could, but Rowan knew how to balance the budget.

By the time she'd made the cheese, her stomach was rumbling. Going to the larder, she snatched up the remains of a fitch of bacon and some gherkins, then hurried indoors. The table was littered with crumbs where Fanny had helped herself to some of the freshly baked bread, cutting the tops off and leaving the bottoms, as was her way. Fighting down her irritation, Rowan prepared the men's midday snack and carried it out to them. Her father
still looked shame-faced as she approached, but she smiled sweetly and handed over the basket.

‘Is there enough for three in there?' he asked.

‘There is enough for four, Father,' she said, smiling. ‘I'm sure old Davey will be hungry, too.'

‘You're a good girl, Rowan,' Edward said, digging his hand in his pocket and drawing out a coin. ‘Best get yourself another ribbon next week, eh?'

So he knew, Rowan thought.

With Sab carrying the basket, they made their way over to the barn. Pleased that harmony was restored between them, Rowan linked her arm through her father's. As he smiled fondly back at her, they didn't notice Fanny glaring at them from her bedroom window.

They perched on hay bales at the far end of the barn and, with the bleating of sheep in the background, tucked into their snack.

‘That were a feast, Rowan,' Sab said, finishing his food before the others as usual. ‘How is the lambing, Davey?'

‘They be coming along, Sab. A couple could be breech so if it's all right with you, Ted, I'll bed down here a while longer?'

‘Of course, Davey; you know the animals best. Anyhow, you've no need to ask, you know that.'

‘Didn't used to, you means. Things are different now, though, aren't they?' Davey grunted. ‘No disrespect, like, but that new wife of yours was asking about price of wool. Mighty unusual thing for a woman to concern herself with, old Davey thinks.'

‘That's probably because she's taken over the farm accounts,' Edward replied.

‘Why would you let her do that? Bodes bad that, you mark my words,' Davey muttered, shaking his head.

‘Well, thank you, Davey. When we need the opinion of hired help we'll ask,' Fanny said, appearing in the doorway. ‘Come along, Edward, you promised to take me into Sudbury and I have no wish to be late for my appointment,' she said, adjusting her bonnet.

‘I didn't know we were timed, Fanny. I thought you
were just going shopping,' he said, jumping up and brushing the crumbs from his trousers.

‘I am, but I also need to see someone about domestic matters. Nothing for you to concern yourself about, though, Edward,' she added hastily, when he looked at Davey in alarm.

‘Right, in that case you'd best load the grain onto the cart, Sab. I'll go on to the mill whilst Fanny is about her business. I'll just get Bryony ready, dear. If the farrier should come, show him the problem with Blackthorn, Sab.'

‘And make sure he doesn't overcharge us,' Fanny added. ‘Now, I'll expect you all to get some work done whilst we are away. Sab, I want to see real progress made to that path by the time I return. Rowan, I have left a note for you on the kitchen table. Please hurry up, Edward; I shall be waiting in the farmhouse,' she called.

They watched in stunned silence as she picked her way carefully back to the farmhouse. Never had they been spoken to like that. Edward shrugged, and Sab followed him out of the barn.

Rowan picked up her empty basket. ‘Why would she leave me a note?' she asked Davey. ‘Couldn't she just tell me what she wants me to do?'

‘Depends if she wants Edward to know what it is,' Davey answered sagely. Rowan frowned. ‘You are innocent of guile, young un, but regrettably not everyone is.'

‘Well, I'm going to visit Mother first. I haven't been to see her for ages and I've so much to tell her.'

‘Aye, good idea, girl, and say hello from old Davey, too,' he said, grinning as he turned back to his beloved sheep.

A
breeze had got up whilst they'd been having their noon piece, and Rowan walked briskly through the farmyard, making her way to her mother's final resting place. Daffodils were dancing where the snowdrops had been on her previous visit, their golden trumpets a welcome splash of colour against the dark red Devonshire soil.

Throwing herself onto the ground, Rowan told her mother everything that had been going on at Orchard Farm since her last visit.

‘Fanny's horrid, Mother. She says she knows I don't like her and that she doesn't like me either. Apparently we have to rub along for the time being.' She felt the ribbon tighten and automatically her hand went to ease the material. ‘Why does that keep happening, Mother? It never used to,' she said. ‘Oh, I do miss you and wish you were still here,' she sobbed, closing her eyes to stem the flow of tears.

When she'd got her emotions under control, she opened her eyes and gasped. The daffodils had all splayed out and seemed to be forming the word ‘beware'. She blinked in surprise but when she looked again the flowers were bobbing and dancing in the breeze. It must have been her imagination, she thought. Her ribbon tightened.

‘I know you're trying to tell me something about Fanny, Mother. I just wish I knew what to do about the woman,' she sighed, getting to her feet and pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders. ‘I'll be back to visit you soon.'
No, you won't
, the breeze seemed to sigh. She shook her head, thinking that was fanciful even for her, and, heart heavy, she made her way back down the path.

Back
in the farmhouse, all thought of warning winds and daffodils disappeared as she shrugged off her shawl and saw the note Fanny had left. Beside it lay a lilac blouse and the emerald ribbon.

Dear Rowan,

As your father and I will be back late, please prepare supper for our return.

I'd be obliged if you would sew my new ribbon on to this blouse. Fanny

Rowan felt her temper rising. Screwing up the note, she flung it into the fire. Really, that woman had the cheek of a thousand devils, never mind one. Well, she knew the men would be hungry so she'd prepare their meal, but there was no way she was going to sew that ribbon on to Fanny's blouse. Going out to the vegetable store, she snatched up some roots from their dwindling supplies then picked herbs from the garden. Back inside, as she prepared a broth she couldn't help staring at the ribbon, a plan forming in her mind. Throwing more wood onto the fire she set the pot to simmer.

After rinsing her hands, she snuggled down beside the hearth with her sewing. Magic appeared as if from nowhere and settled on her feet. Then, in the cosy atmosphere of crackling logs and purring cat, she spent a pleasant afternoon stitching and musing. She couldn't help remembering sitting here with her mother teaching her to sew. Then, after she'd died, Auntie Sal had helped her with the difficult tasks of turning the collars on her
father's shirts. Thoughts of her auntie reminded her that she and her uncle hadn't visited in a while, which was quite unlike them. Maybe it was because of the snow. She must ask her father about it when he returned.

Just as the shadows were lengthening and a savoury aroma was rising from the pot, she held up her work and nodded in satisfaction. Skipping upstairs, she laid the lilac blouse on Fanny's bed. Then going into her own room she kissed her mirror and put her handiwork away for later.

She'd just finished setting the table when her father and stepmother clattered through the door. Magic hissed at Fanny and bolted upstairs.

‘Something smells good,' Edward said, sniffing the air appreciatively.

‘I'm pleased to see you followed my instructions, Rowan,' Fanny said graciously. ‘I think we will all eat together tonight.'

Wondering what had brought about Fanny's change of mind, for she knew there must be a reason, Rowan set extra places around the table. She cut bread and was serving up the broth when Davey appeared. Seeing Fanny sitting at the table, he collected his dish and returned to the barn, muttering he had to see to a ewe that was about to give birth. Apart from the scraping of cutlery on plates, there was silence as they all ate ravenously. Finally Edward pushed his empty platter away.

‘That were a nice drop of broth, Rowan, my dear,' he declared, patting his stomach.

Sab nodded in agreement. ‘Glad you're back to cooking our meals, Rowan,' he said, looking pointedly at Fanny.

She
sniffed, but said nothing, just sat there looking smug, like a cat that's cornered a mouse and is waiting to pounce.

Sensing tension, Edward began talking about the warming weather, and when the moon phase would be right to sow the crops.

‘Well, we're into March now, so by my reckoning the water table will be right for carrots and tubers soon after next market day,' Sab commented.

‘And then we can see about sowing the grain up in Five Acre Field,' Edward said.

‘Does this all really take place at night?' Fanny asked, suddenly taking an interest in the conversation.

‘No, my dear, we can't broadcast at night, we can only plant the root crops,' Edward told her, smiling apologetically.

‘And when will this be exactly?' asked Fanny, looking up from her list.

‘Probably at the vernal equinox – or Eostre for you, Rowan,' Sab answered with a grin.

‘Do talk English, boy,' Fanny snapped. Silence descended like a blanket of death. ‘Well, think how difficult this all is for me, a city girl who has no knowledge of your country ways,' she simpered.

‘Sorry, my dear,' Edward said, giving an embarrassed cough.

‘And do you have a part in this?' she asked, turning to Rowan and giving her a penetrating stare.

‘Oh, yes, I shall be carrying out the ritual Mother taught me to draw upon the earth's natural energies. It will be the time when day and night are of equal length and in perfect balance. We need to ensure the continuum –'

‘For
heaven's sake, will you stop spouting this mumbo jumbo,' Fanny interrupted.

‘Yes, my dear,' Edward muttered. ‘Did the farrier come, Sab?'

Sab shook his head.

‘Happen he'll drop by tomorrow then. Right, if we've all finished, I'll go and bring in the flour,' he said, rising to his feet.

‘Just a minute, Edward,' Fanny said, putting out her arm to detain him. ‘Now, Sab, have you finished my path yet?'

‘Almost,' he muttered.

‘Good. Remember that I decreed it must be done before planting. I cannot afford to ruin more shoes. Now, when I was in Sudbury I engaged the services of a cook-cum-housekeeper, so first thing Monday morning, we will go through her duties together, Rowan. Then you can show her where everything is,' she said, smiling her supercilious smile.

‘You didn't tell me about this, Fanny,' Edward said, looking shocked. ‘How much is this woman going to cost?'

‘Now, my dear, we agreed that you'd see to things around the farm and leave me to deal with running of the household.'

Edward shook his head. ‘I'm not sure we can afford …'

‘Edward, you promised to leave the accounts to me and we did agree that Rowan shouldn't have to cook and clean any more, didn't we?' she said, smiling sweetly.

Feeling there was more to it than this, Sab and Rowan exchanged puzzled looks.

‘Well,
that's all arranged then,' Fanny said, getting to her feet. ‘Mrs Dunmore will be arriving by carter, along with the household items I purchased this afternoon.'

Rowan took special care with her appearance on Monday morning, but waited until she heard the cart arrive before going downstairs. The kitchen was alive with activity as the driver, helped by Sab, unloaded numerous parcels and packages.

‘Looks like Fanny's gone crazy with Uncle's money,' Sab whispered as she passed.

Rowan shook her head, wondering just where everything was going to be stored.

Fanny, who'd already shown Mrs Dunmore into the parlour, looked up as Rowan appeared in the doorway. Her eyes widened in surprise, the smile freezing on her lips as she took in the emerald ribbon adorning Rowan's homespun. Involuntarily, she glanced down at the same ribbon, which Rowan had sewn prominently down the placket of her lilac blouse. Rowan grinned to herself. Just as she'd thought, the bright emerald did nothing to enhance Fanny's cold grey eyes. It was only when the matronly looking woman jumped to her feet that Fanny remembered her manners.

‘Rowan, this is Mrs Dunmore, who is coming to look after our household matters,' she said frostily.

Rowan smiled at the woman, taking in her meek, accepting eyes, iron-grey hair twisted into a bun and the well-worn, yet clean coat. Nervously the woman nodded back.

‘I have already agreed terms of employment with
Mrs Dunmore,' Fanny continued. ‘However, I would be pleased if you could familiarize her with what food Edward likes to eat and when. Then I'd like you to show her where everything is kept. When you are satisfied Mrs Dunmore knows what is expected of her you will return. There are things I wish to discuss with you.' Fanny was staring pointedly at the emerald ribbon on Rowan's dress.

It took Rowan only a couple of hours to explain their daily routine and show Mrs Dunmore where everything was kept. Then, to her surprise, the carter returned and the woman bade her farewell.

‘But aren't you staying?' Rowan asked.

‘Oh, no, dear, I'm to wait until I'm summoned,' Mrs Dunmore replied, climbing quickly into the cart.

Rowan shook her head. The workings of her stepmother's mind were beyond her. Her stomach growled and, remembering she'd had nothing to eat, she hurried back to the farmhouse. She'd just finished her bread roll when Fanny appeared in the doorway.

‘Ah, Rowan, I trust everything went well?' she enquired, eyeing her dress speculatively.

‘Yes, but I thought Mrs Dunmore would be starting straight away.'

‘Well, we have to be mindful of the household budget, don't we?' her stepmother answered.

Rowan stared around the kitchen at the piles of packages. ‘Shall I get Sab to tidy these away?' she asked.