The Sea Shell Girl (8 page)

‘What's up?' Merry asked, drawing alongside them.

‘That new agent, that's what,' Ailla muttered. ‘He opened his new business today and when we took him our knitting he told us he's had to cut the rate he can pay us.'

‘Said there's no demand for our work and he was doing us a favour,' Tressa scoffed.

‘But if that were true why would he have increased our target? It's a sham,' Kelys spat. ‘Even with the damping down we're out of pocket.'

‘He didn't catch on, then?' Merry asked.

‘Didn't blinking look at our work long enough,' Marya spluttered, two red spots appearing on her cheeks. ‘Just counted the number we handed in, then gave us yarn to make more. Inferior it is too, all the thread's splitting.'

‘Like them peas he gave me. They're so split they'll disintegrate as soon as I put them in water.'

‘The goods he gave me were stale and barely edible,' Delen spluttered. ‘How am I to feed my girls properly? Primmy and Caja might look like sparras but they got appetites like gannets.'

‘You just returned from Plymouth, Merry?' Slowly she nodded, not liking the glint in Kelys's eyes. ‘How did you get on?' the woman asked, staring pointedly at her parcel.

‘Mr Fairbright's given me another order,' she admitted.

‘Perhaps he'd take our work too? Tressa asked.

‘I could ask,' Merry offered.

‘Well, knitter women, let me tell you something for nothing.' As the steely tones of the new agent cut across their conversation, the little group fell silent. ‘Like my father before me, I am a fair man,' he continued fixing them with a gimlet stare.

‘And my old man's a bank manager,' Kelys muttered.

‘Did you say something?' Mr Sharp asked, pointing to the grey-haired woman.

Kelys shook her head and looked away.

‘As I was saying,' he continued. ‘I am a fair man and I expect loyalty in return. Anyone not wishing to trade with me, put up your hand now.' The women glanced at each other uneasily but no one moved. ‘I will take that as
acceptance of my conditions, then. As for you, that maid with the white hair,' he continued, turning the full force of his gaze on Merry. ‘What's your name?'

‘Merryn Dyer, sir,' she answered, clutching her parcel tighter.

‘Well, Merryn Dyer, if I catch you trying to entice my knitters away again, I'll make sure Fairbright hears about it. And if that happens, you can be sure no one will deal with you ever again. Do I make myself clear?'

‘But I …' Merry began. But he'd already turned away and she was talking to his back.

‘Of all the cheek!' Merry exclaimed.

‘Well, that's our hands tied and he's got your card well and truly marked, my girl, but I don't suppose it matters, does it?' Kelys muttered, giving Merry a final glare before striding off down the hill. As undisputed leader of the knitters, she was clearly put out the new agent had caught them complaining.

‘We'd all better get going before stingy Sharp comes back,' Marya sighed. ‘I'm pleased you had a better day, dear,' she added to Merry as they began walking towards the harbour.

‘My Tomas saw Nicco waiting with his cart this morning,' Delen grinned. ‘Did he say anything about that extra celebration he was hinting at the other evening?'

The little group came to a halt and looked at Merry expectantly.

She shook her head. ‘He brought a cooper back in the cart and the talk was all business,' she replied. That part at least was the truth.

‘What's this cooper like?' Wyllow asked, her eyes sparking interest as she patted her dark curls.

‘Knowing you, you'll soon make it your business to find out,' Tressa laughed. ‘Perhaps the handsome Nicco will have to vie for your attention and that double-ended pasty you were making this afternoon. Oh sprats; I'm sorry, Merry.'

‘You needn't be. Nicco doesn't get any encouragement from me, I can assure you.'

‘What's his name, is he good-looking and how old is he?' Wyllow asked, grinning wickedly.

‘He's called Otto and very pleasant. That first lot of pilchards will ready for packing and so you're bound to meet him then.'

‘And Nicco will pay us cash for that,' Marya said, brightening.

Merry smiled, marvelling, not for the first time, at how resilient these women were. Nothing kept them down for long.

They reached the harbour to find Kelys leaning against the wall.

‘So what was this new order for then?' she asked Merry.

‘A dozen knit frocks.'

‘And you got paid all in cash for the last lot?' Merry patted her pocket and nodded. ‘Well, haven't you got it made,' Kelys snarled. ‘Not content to have the boss's son running round after you, you use your charms on that agent to get a better rate.'

‘But it was you who suggested …' Merry began, but once again she was talking to herself for the woman was stalking towards her cottage. The others glanced awkwardly at each other, then, with apologetic looks at Merry, followed after her.

Kelys didn't waste a moment. No sooner had they gathered around than she began holding court. Merry sighed, once again feeling an outsider in her own village. How she wished Jenna was still with her. Her friend
would have stood up for her, making the others see sense and laughing until Kelys's good humour was restored.

She stood gazing forlornly over the harbour where the boats were tied up for the night, their gaff jaws creaking against their masts, and the water slapping against the clinker hulls. Fishermen leaned against their huts, enjoying a last smoke of the evening, the tips of their home rollies glowing red against the lengthening shadows. Village life was going on as normal around her, yet Merry felt curiously detached, as if she no longer belonged. Perhaps it was time she gave serious thought to how she was going to turn her dream of a new life beyond this little fishing port into reality. Her gaze automatically went to the granite house on the opposite cliff.

A slither of silver moon glimmered in the darkening sky as it rose behind the chimneys. It was surrounded by a scattering of stars that glittered like diamonds on a brooch. With a jolt she was reminded of Nicco and his proposition that morning. Not for the first time she thanked her own lucky stars for his fortuitous meeting with Otto. At least she'd been spared having to stop for supper. Thinking of food made her realize she was hungry, and with a last wistful look at the little group of knitters who were still listening to Kelys, she wended her way through the warren to home.

The next few weeks passed in a frenzy of activity. By day Merry knitted furiously, determined to fulfil her order for Mr Fairbright. When she'd joined the little army of women in their usual place, Kelys had made it plain her company wasn't welcome so she'd taken her pins up to the
point. Alone with her thoughts, her brain worked as quickly as her hands as she pondered her predicament.

Far out at sea she could see the little boats bobbing on the swell as Pucky Pint and his fishermen worked tirelessly hauling in the pilchards. True to his word, he'd sent the money he owed for the limpets and, as was her way, Grozen had stashed it in the tea caddy to help see them through the winter when there would be no fish to supplement their knitting.

On the quay below, Otto was whistling cheerfully as he fashioned the strong barrels that would hold their precious catch, before it was preserved and transported to distant shores. Merry noticed he'd discarded his jerkin in the heat and his arms were as brown as the wood he was fashioning. She couldn't help smiling, when at noon each day Wyllow sauntered casually over to offer him a pasty or floury bap. He would smile and take them politely before immediately resuming his work. From her vantage point, Merry could almost reach out and touch the girl's frustration.

Come early evening, with her work growing satisfyingly heavy, Merry would return to the cottage to share a bite to eat with her mother and grandmother. She was pleased to see they were happier and healthier now they had sufficient to eat and money to pay the rent. Yet as her mother and Grozen chatted over their meal, Merry couldn't help brooding on the future.

The abundance of work at the pallace meant everyone's spirits were high, and slowly Kelys began to thaw. One evening the two women were standing side by side, pressing down fish in the hogsheads with heavy weights, when they saw Nicco hurry past.

‘Not paying you much attention these days, is he?' Kelys commented.

‘Thank heavens for small mercies,' Merry said with feeling.

‘Well, I can't begin to understand you, girl. As I've said before, I wouldn't say no to a handsome man like that, especially with his prospects. Still, happen you've always thought yourself above the likes of us.'

‘What's that meant to mean?' Merry asked, turning to face the woman.

‘Well, you've made it plain we're not good enough. You want to meet new people and …'

‘There's nothing wrong with Merry wanting to make a better life for herself, Kelys,' Karenza interrupted, linking arms with her daughter.

‘Ah, but as you know, the moon doesn't always shine brighter elsewhere, does it?' the woman retorted.

Karenza shrugged. ‘Well you can't blame a person for wanting to find out, can you? How's that damping down going, by the way?' The woman bristled with indignation and Merry thought Kelys was about to explode but then she seemed to shrivel before their eyes.

‘I ain't doing it out of choice,' she sighed. ‘'Tis the only way to pay the bills.'

‘Is it?' Karenza asked, staring at the woman until she looked down at the ground.

‘It's all right for you; you've got your Merry to sell your frocks. My family's too busy with their own affairs to worry about their old mother.' The woman's eyes clouded and she looked so sad, Merry's heart went out to her.

‘Perhaps I could speak to Mr Fairbright …' Merry began.

‘Not if she's cheating on the agent you won't,' Karenza cut in. ‘Come along, Merry, Grozen will be waiting with a warm drink.'

As her mother pulled her away, Merry frowned. ‘But I might be able to help, Mother.'

Karenza shook her head. ‘We don't want to be associated with any dodgy dealing, Merry. Mud sticks and that woman changes her mind more often than she casts on her stitches. Come on, I want a word with you before we get home.'

‘There's nothing wrong with Grozen, is there?' Merry asked.

‘Funnily enough, she asked me the same about you earlier. Said you'd taken to knitting up at the point by yourself. She thinks you've been fretting over something. It's not that Nicco, is it? I know he's not been very attentive but it is his busiest time and …'

‘I'm enjoying the break from his suggestions, Mother, believe you me,' Merry said with feeling.

‘What's wrong then? You should be happy now you're going to Plymouth every month.'

‘I've only been twice, Mother, and each time Nicco's watched me like a sparrowhawk.'

‘He's just looking out for you. Not that he has recently, I admit, since he's taken to going to the tavern with that Otto each evening.'

‘For which I'm truly grateful,' Merry said with feeling.

‘Come along, let's sit here a while and we can talk properly,' her mother said, pulling her down beside her on the stone steps. ‘So if it's not Nicco troubling you, what is?'

Merry thought for a moment, wondering how best to tell her mother that visiting Plymouth once a month wasn't enough.

‘You were in service near Plymouth, weren't you?'

‘You know that, our Merry, although I stayed on the Cornwall side of the Tamar. Work at that big house was busy in the extreme, rising before dawn and not getting to bed till the last bit of tidying-up was finished.'

‘It sounds more exciting than here, though,' Merry whispered.

Her mother gave a harsh laugh. ‘We didn't get paid as much as we do at the pallace, although, granted, it was regular work.'

‘But you met different people and …'

‘Oh, don't you go listening to that woman. Kelys might have had a hard life but then so have most round here. There's a lot to be said for family, and if she'd been nicer to hers they might want to visit her now.' Her mother turned to face her. ‘I can see there's more, so spit it out, our Merry.'

‘I'm fed up with smelling of fish and I want to do something different.' As the words came bursting out, her mother looked thoughtful.

‘I heard Mrs Grace is looking for help in her travellers' lodging house. It's only at the top of the village so you would be able to come home each evening.' Merry's heart sank. That was where Sharp junior was staying and there was no way she could work there. Besides it wouldn't get her away from here, would it? Catching sight of the outline of the imposing granite house opposite, her resolve hardened.

‘Come along, Grozen will wonder where we've got to,' her mother urged, getting to her feet.

‘I think I'll take a walk and clear my head,' Merry replied, hurrying down to the beach before her mother could dissuade her.

As her feet crunched over the pebbles, she lifted her face to the cool breeze wafting in from the sea. Picking up a handful of stones she threw them as hard as she could then stood listening to the plopping sounds as they landed in the water. Gradually, the rhythmic shooshing of the waves being sucked in and out of the shingle soothed her spirits. She stared out at the horizon, which now, at nearly midsummer, was navy rather than black, and she couldn't help wondering what lay beyond.

Lost in her reverie, it was some moments before she heard the crunch of footsteps on the stones behind her. Turning quickly, she saw Otto making his way towards her.

‘Evening, Merry,' he called, lifting his cloth cap in greeting. ‘I was leaving the tavern when I saw you flinging those stones like fury and thought I'd better see if I could save the poor things.'

‘But I was only …' she began, then, seeing he was teasing, giggled.

‘That's better. Why don't we take a pew and you can tell me what's troubling you?' he said, gesturing to a nearby groyne.

Sitting side by side with him in the near darkness, with the waves lapping at their feet, Merry suddenly felt self-conscious. She didn't really know this man, after all.

‘Mother always said if you share a trouble then someone else can worry about it as well,' Otto said.

‘Are you close to her?' she asked. She heard him sigh into the darkness.

‘I was before she was taken last winter.'

‘Oh, Otto, I'm sorry and here's me …' Her voice tailed off.

‘And here's you what? Come on, tell Father Confessor.'

She smiled but there was something compelling about his gaze and, under the cover of the evening skies, she found herself telling him of her hopes and desires.

‘So you see, Otto, the other knitters resent me for getting paid a fair price. Grozen and Mother want me to marry Nicco and stay in the village but I want to see what life lies beyond before it's too late. I'm already seventeen, after all.'

‘A great old age indeed,' he agreed, so solemnly she had to laugh.

‘Now you're mocking me.'

‘Not really. Nobody can make you settle down with Nicco – or anyone else, if it comes to that. It's your life, your choice.'

‘But Nicco won't take no for an answer,' she cried. ‘Although since you've been here I've hardly seen him.'