The Sweethearts Collection. Pam Jenoff

up on the cart and gestured to Colenso to do the same.

      ‘Nice and flat for quite a while now, so we can give our legs a break,’ she said, wiping the perspiration from her brow. To Colenso’s delight, they followed the line of the sand dunes for some miles and she revelled in the tang of the salty air and the cries of wheeling gulls. Then the vista changed as they reached the dirty, noisy towns of the tin- and copper-mining area.

      The smelters and factories were blanketing the sky with smoke and soot, while the constant hiss and clunk from stream-driven pumps in the engine houses reminded Colenso of the noise at the serpentine works.

      ‘Down we get again,’ Mara sighed, as they reached the hilly main street and Ears began to labour. It was lined with grand granite houses, but as Colenso peered down the side streets she saw they were crammed with smaller run-down terraced cottages. Beyond them, ragged children played barefoot among the spoil and slag heaps.

      ‘This is terrible,’ she shuddered.

      ‘I know, there’s no vegetation at all so there’ll be no foraging here,’ Mara said sadly. ‘Too much copper and arsenic in the ground.’

      That wasn’t what Colenso had meant, but they’d begun to leave the oppressive area behind them and she let the subject drop. When they reached the open moorland again, she raised her face and breathed deeply of the fresh air.

      ‘Bet you don’t think the countryside’s so bad now,’ Mara said, giving her a wry look. They continued the journey on foot, over undulating hills, past farm fields bordered by hedges, until they reached Blackwater where they set up camp for the night. After the hullabaloo of the previous days, Colenso revelled in the gentle company of the kumpania as they sat around the fire.

      ‘Looks like you enjoyed that,’ Mara said, gesturing to her empty dish.

      ‘It was delicious. I never knew you could make such wonderful meals with a few flowers and leaves.’

      ‘We’ll make a country girl of you yet,’ Mara grinned.

      ✳

      The next day followed much the same pattern as they trekked on through the countryside, passing yet more farms bordered by high hedges. The sun beat down relentlessly, and by the time they’d climbed the steep hill out of the valley at Zelah, Colenso could feel the perspiration dripping down her back. How she wished she could throw off that wretched cap and jacket.

      Finally, they reached their destination of Summercourt, a hamlet of terraced stone cottages built around a crossroads.

      ‘We’ll be coming back for the fair in October,’ Mara said, as they turned into a field beyond the alehouse, but Colenso was so hot and dusty it was all she could do to murmur an answer.

      She helped Mara unhitch Ears and set up the van for the night, then unable to bear the itching any longer, followed the tiny stream until she came to a pond in the woodland. Noticing how quiet it was, she tore off the scratchy clothes and band binding her chest then, heedless of the murky water, dived in. She hardly noticed the cold puckering her skin as she revelled in the relief of being free from restraint. Flipping over, she floated on her back, watching the sun-streaked sky turning from crimson to rose and apricot.

      A splash in the water close by disturbed her reverie. There was a rustling in the grass and she saw two amber eyes and a lolloping tongue staring at her from the bank. Her eyes widened as another figure appeared. Crouching further down in the water, she covered her breasts with her hands, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he would hear it.

      ‘I say, boy, could you retrieve that stick?’ the man called. ‘Threw it a bit hard and old Bosun here won’t go anywhere near water.’ Colenso swallowed hard and looked over to where the twig was hovering just out of reach. How could she retrieve it without revealing herself? Careful to keep beneath the water, she inched her way towards it. Grabbing it with one hand whilst keeping herself covered with the other, she aimed it arrow-like at the man.

      ‘I say, good shot,’ he cried. ‘Mighty obliged, boy. That water looks so inviting. Could be tempted to take a dip myself.’ As he leaned over, his shadow edging towards her, Colenso’s stomach sank. ‘Still, got to think of the dog. Thanks again, boy,’ he said and much to her relief, bent and retrieved the stick. He threw it in the opposite direction and then followed after the dog. She waited until he’d disappeared then let out the breath she’d been holding. Laughter bubbled up inside her. Boy indeed. If only he knew. Although the old clothes had served their purpose, she felt so invigorated there was no way she was putting the coarse garments back on again.

      ‘I’d like to wear my own blouse and skirt now,’ Colenso told Mara when, holding the jacket in front of her to protect her modesty, she entered the van.

      ‘I told you, we need to check with Big Al that it’s safe,’ the woman frowned. She’d removed her scarf and was sitting on the cushion, combing out her curls. As the light caught the sheen of her long tresses, something snapped inside Colenso.

      ‘You’re meant to be the fortune teller so why don’t you consult your crystal ball?’ Mara dropped her comb in surprise. ‘I want to be a woman again,’ she added, her voice softer now.

      ‘Very well,’ Mara said, taking down the velvet bag. ‘But I think you should put those clothes back on before we see what it has to tell us.’ She covered the globe with her hands then removed them and peered closely into it. Her eyes widened but, instead of saying anything, she went pale.

      ‘Well, what does it say about me?’ Colenso asked impatiently as she sat down beside her.

      ‘Me, me, me, that’s all you think of,’ Mara roared, jumping to her feet and running from the van. Colenso stared after her before turning back to the crystal. Although she gazed hard into its depths she could see nothing but swirling mist. A knock on the door brought her back to the present, and looking up she saw Jago staring worriedly at her.

      ‘Everything all right in here?’ he asked.

      ‘I didn’t know you were here,’ she smiled, pleased to see him.

      ‘Only arrived a few minutes ago. I heard shouting and then saw Mara stomping down to the stream.’

      ‘I asked her to look in her crystal ball but she wouldn’t tell me what she saw.’

      ‘Oh,’ he murmured. ‘Well, whatever upset her, I’m sure she’ll be back soon. In the meantime, are you joining us for supper?’

      The others looked up curiously as they took their places beside the fire but nobody said anything. Colenso accepted her plate and ate her meal automatically, hardly tasting the herb-laden potage. She watched the flames becoming brighter as the shadows around them lengthened.

      ‘Mara’s not back,’ Sarah said when they’d all finished eating. ‘Shall I go and check she’s all right?’

      ‘Probably wants a bit of space. Not used to sharing her home, she isn’t,’ her husband replied. Colenso stared at them in dismay. She’d been so caught up in her own problems she hadn’t given any thought to the generous lady who’d taken her in and cared for her these past few weeks.

      ‘I’ll go,’ she said, jumping up and hurrying towards the water. She followed the path along the bank for a while until she spotted Mara sitting under a tree, her back leaning against its thick trunk.

      ‘I’m really sorry, Mara,’ she apologized.

      ‘Don’t be, it comes to us all,’ the woman sighed, getting to her feet. ‘Reckon you can wear your own clothes tomorrow,’ she added. Colenso was so delighted that it was only later she remembered the woman’s first remark. By then Mara was snoring gently and she resolved to ask her about it first thing in the morning.

      The pleasure of pulling on her soft blouse over skin not constrained by the tight band made her shiver with happiness. She was just running her fingers through the tufts of hair, the delight of not having to wear the itchy cap again outweighing the loss of her long tresses, when Mara returned, Jago following behind.