The Bonbon Girl. Linda Finlay

stare at her father, but before she could think of a suitable reply, he’d climbed into the waiting trap, her mamm following after him.

      The shadows were lengthening as they made their way back up the driveway and through the country lanes. Silhouettes of twisted trees rose out of the dimpsy light, their knots like evil eyes, reminding her of the way Ferret Fenton had gawped at her chest. Gently she fingered her necklace. ‘How I wish you were still here, Mammwynn,’ she whispered. Then her father’s raucous laugh rang out, rousing the roosting rooks and making her shudder. How she hated him for putting her in such an impossible situation. Drawing the ring from her pocket, she placed it firmly back on her finger where it belonged.

      To her surprise, a light was flickering in the window when they arrived home. It must mean her brother was back, she thought, her spirits rising. Sure enough, he was hunched over the table studying some papers, a half-empty mug of cold tea beside him.

      ‘Oh Tomas, am I glad to see you,’ she cried.

      ‘Hey, little sis,’ he grinned, his dark eyes lighting up. ‘’Tis flatterin’ to get a greetin’ like that. You’re shaking – what’s up?’

      ‘You wouldn’t believe …’ she began.

      ‘Remembered where you live, then?’ Peder growled, striding into the room. ‘What’s that you’re reading?’

      ‘Evening to you too, Father,’ Tomas said, a wary look replacing his grin as he hastily folded the papers and put them in his pocket.

      ‘Tomas, you’ve come home,’ Caja whooped, throwing her arms around him. ‘’Tis good to see you son. I’ll make us a brew and we can have a nice old catch-up. You won’t believe where we’ve been.’ Letting go of her son, she hurried over to the range.

      ‘’Tis unusual to see you all dressed up of a Sunday evening. And was that a pony and trap I heard outside?’ he asked, staring at them curiously.

      ‘Yep. The Carnes is going places,’ Peder told him, unable to contain his excitement.

      ‘Sounds like you’ve already been,’ Tomas replied.

      ‘Ha son, very funny. Now listen up,’ he said, tossing his cap onto the nail and settling himself down at the table. ‘You’ll never guess what?’

      ‘Colenso’s walking out with the new works manager,’ Tomas quipped.

      ‘How do you know that?’ Peder exclaimed, his brows almost disappearing under the flop of greying hair that fell over his forehead.

      ‘I was jesting, Father,’ Tomas sighed, shaking his head.

      ‘But ’tis true,’ Peder boasted. ‘And if she plays her cards right, we’ll be out of this cot and into something bigger and better come Michaelmas.’

      ‘What?’ Tomas gasped, starring at Colenso in astonishment.

      ‘In fact, if your sister really turns on the charm, she could make that midsummer and save us the quarter’s rent,’ Peder carried on gleefully.

      ‘But I thought you and Kitto …’ Tomas began.

      ‘We are …’ she began, only to be interrupted once again as Peder jumped to his feet and stood glaring at her.

      ‘No daughter of mine’s wedding a foreigner Duck and that’s that. Geese we be, and proud of it.’

      ‘For heaven’s sake, Father, ’tis merely the stream that separates us Grade Geese from Ruan Ducks. Besides, Kitto only lives on the edge of the village,’ Tomas laughed.

      ‘In a down-and-out hovel,’ he snorted. ‘Anyhow, I ain’t having no interbreeding in the Carne family,’ he glared.

      ‘But you just said he was a foreigner, you can’t have it both ways,’ Colenso began. ‘Besides, Mammwynn was born on Ruan side.’

      ‘Yeah, and look at her with her herbs and potions. The woman was crackers. Or should that be quackers, being as how she were a Duck,’ Peder chortled.

      ‘That’s enough, Father. I’ll not have Mamm spoken about like that, God rest her soul,’ Caja cried, banging their mugs down hard on the table. ‘Besides, I use herbal remedies to heal my patients.’

      ‘Sorry,’ Peder mumbled, looking anything but. ‘Fenton’s a man of breeding. Come from up country, he has.’

      ‘Yes, and there’s rumours as to why he left,’ Tomas said, giving his father a sharp look. However, Peder was in his stride and even if he’d heard Tomas’s remark, he chose to ignore it.

      ‘Taken a shine to our Colenso, he has, and is calling on her next Sunday. Play our cards right and we could be rolling in it,’ he crowed, rubbing his hands together.

      ‘Is this true, our Col?’ Tomas frowned.

      ‘I don’t want to …’ she began.

      ‘You’ll do as your darn well told. Just seventeen, you be. A child. Until you become an adult ’tis up to me to decide what’s best for you,’ he said, clamping his mouth around his pipe and tamping tobacco into the bowl.

      ‘So, I’m old enough to earn money for your drink, but only a child when it suits you,’ Colenso retorted. Seeing her father’s hand go to his belt, she jumped to her feet. ‘You kept me prisoner here all last week but I promised to help Emily with her sewing tomorrow and I intend to so.’

      ‘Of course you will,’ Peder replied, a smile replacing his scowl as he struck his tinderbox. He puffed on his pipe, sending spirals of smoke disappearing into the clothes on the pulley above. As Caja opened her mouth to protest, he leaned forward and stared hard at Colenso.

      ‘You’ll need som’at new to wear when you go out with Fenton, so be sure to get more of that quality material from her.’

      ‘But they were surplus offcuts. I can’t expect her to give me any more,’ Colenso told him.

      ‘Then take some,’ he snapped. ‘Used to pilfering, ain’t you?’ Unable to believe what she was hearing, Colenso stared at him in disgust. ‘And then you can spend the rest of the week making something more fetching than that effort you’re wearing now. A man likes to have something womanly to look at.’

      ‘Really, Father …’ Tomas began.

      ‘Who asked you to pipe up? You’re only a cutter but your sister has a chance to better herself,’ Peder glowered.

      ‘Well, thanks very much,’ Tomas replied but his father had already turned to Caja.

      ‘’Tis up to us to assist our dear daughter, Mother, so Colenso will spend her time keeping house and getting our meals.’

      ‘I already cook most of them, Father,’ she pointed out.

      ‘But you always does the same things. A man like Fenton needs a wife who can entertain, put something tempting on the table.’

      ‘I have no intention of doing things just to please old Fenton,’ Colenso cried.

      ‘Listen here, maid. That’s exactly what you’re going to do. If you let this chance slip through your fingers I’ll …’ He rose to his feet and towered over her. As he began unbuckling his belt, Colenso fled up the stairs to her room.

      Cradling the serpentine heart to her chest, she threw herself down on her cover and stared at the grimy ceiling. Heedless of her father’s wiles and Fenton’s threats, it was Kitto she was going to wed. Her father’s moods were more changeable than the weather. As for her mamm, she’d always liked Kitto, and Colenso couldn’t believe she’d sided with her father.

      As for bettering themselves, whilst they didn’t live in the best of cottages and there was always more week than wage, they’d always got by. Of course, if her father didn’t frequent the hostelry so often, life would be easier. But to make her walk out with that Ferret Fenton, whose eyes never got higher than her chest, was