The Girl with the Amber Comb. Linda Finlay

      ‘Not at all, although he was acting strangely today. Kept going on about us being friends when we’ve known each other since school. Oh, and he said something about having his talk with you next year, whatever that means. Seeing her Gramfer’s frown deepen, she changed the subject. ‘We might not be able to afford to have the traditional goose for Michaelmas Day but this eel’s really tasty with the taiters fried alongside, don’t you think?’

      To her relief, he nodded and began tucking into his meal. He was looking pensive though, and Eliza had a feeling the subject wasn’t over. Sure enough, as soon as he’d finished eating, he pushed his plate to one side.

      ‘That were grand, Eliza.’ He sat back in his chair and began stroking his beard, a sure sign something was troubling him. ‘Hard to believe you’re seventeen, young lady. Did I tell you that your grammer were the same age when we wed? Right bonny she was, flaxen hair curlin’ round her head like a halo, lips red as the ripest cherries. Didn’t stand a chance when she looked in my direction, I can tell you. We had a good marriage,’ he sighed and stared into the fire. Then pulling himself back to the present, he leaned forward and patted Eliza’s hand. ‘Want the same for you now. And young Clem—’

      ‘Is a friend,’ she butted in. ‘A good friend, but that’s it,’ she added firmly.

      ‘And that’s a very good foundation on which to base a marriage. It’s not all hearts and flowers, you know.’

      ‘Look Gramfer, I’m not ready to begin thinking about marriage. ‘It’s bad enough I’ve had to give up the job I loved.’

      ‘Oh yes, sorry, I forgot,’ he mumbled, his brow puckering.

      ‘I’m happy taking over the basket business but one day, I want to go out and meet new people like Mammer did.’

      ‘Pastures new aren’t always greater or greener. Sometimes they’re full of prickles and creeps, folk who take advantage as Della found out, to all our costs,’ he sighed.

      ‘Yet you let her go and find out for herself,’ she persisted.

      ‘Couldn’t stop her. Wilful as an unbroken filly she was.’

      ‘I know you and Grammer have lived here all your lives but—’

      ‘Now that’s where you’re wrong, young lady,’ he exclaimed, cutting her short. ‘We haven’t always lived in a dank cott like this.’ He grimaced and waved his hand around the shadowy, smoke filled room. ‘Moved here from Bridgwater when Della got herself … well we moved away from the nosebags to spare her reputation. Cors we didn’t know there’d be … complications,’ he shook his head and sighed again.

      Assuming he was referring to her mother dying in childbirth, Eliza nodded and remained quiet.

      ‘Started out by rentin’ a few withy beds,’ he went on a few moments later. ‘And through sheer hard work, managed to buy and increase them year on year. Now our plot extends as far as you can see. Mary, bless her, supported my venture by learnin’ the basket-making from old Harry in Worth.’

      ‘I never realised,’ she murmured, taken aback by his revelation. She’d never dreamt they’d lived anywhere other than on Sedge Moor.

      ‘There’s a lot you don’t realise, my girl. Now my Mary’s been taken, tis up to me to see you settled before I’m called to join her. When Clem said he wanted to talk about your future, I were that pleased I intended giftin’ you my withy beds. Thought it’d give you a good start so you won’t have to scrimp and save like we had to. He’s a good fellow, one of the best. Works hard making all them deliveries along the Parrett on his father’s barge then navigatin’ the narrow rhynes on his trow. Which he bought through his own efforts. He’ll make a fine husband, girl, mark my words.’

      ‘Some day, maybe,’ she agreed, to appease him. ‘But just now isn’t the time to think about it.’

      ‘Well, don’t dally too long, Eliza. I hear young Bethan’s set her bonnet at him and her brother’s encouraging her. They’ve only been in Stathe a few months and she’s not wastin’ any time.’

      ‘Well, not having a brother, I shall have to make my own choice, won’t I?’ Eliza retorted. Her gramfer winced, clutching at his chest so that she wished she hadn’t spoken so brusquely. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, patting his shoulder. He smiled at her sadly through rheumy eyes.

       ‘Just think on, Eliza. Clem passes by their cottage most days. Happen he’ll not wait around for a hurdy ’ead like you to make up her mind.’ Eliza grimaced at the reference to her wild red tresses. Although her grammer had insisted they were one of her best assets, she considered them the bane of her life. ‘Still, I’ve no right to expect you to stay here. I’m quite capable of lookin’ out for myself,’ he declared stoutly.

      ‘Oh Gramfer, there’s no need, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,’ she assured him. Even as she uttered the words her heart was sinking lower than the uppers of her well-worn boots as she saw her dream disappearing. But he’d looked after her since she was born and it was obvious that the loss of his beloved wife, along with years of being out in all weathers, were taking their toll. Not that he’d ever admit it. However, she loved him dearly and it was now her turn to care for him. Summoning a smile she patted his hand, and eyes suspiciously moist, he turned away.

      ‘Fire’s smokier than ever this night,’ he grunted.

      Giving him time to collect himself, Eliza pondered on her future. Perhaps when her gramfer had had time to adjust, and the outstanding order from Longstones was fulfilled, she could go and see the school mistress, ask if she’d consider re-engaging her for a few hours a week. Their humble home wouldn’t take long to clean, apart from those cursed cobwebs, she thought watching them swaying like filmy ribbons of lace in the draught from the chimney.

      ‘Nearly forgot,’ Gramfer said, smiling as she refilled his mug and sat back down beside him. ‘Mrs Finch’s darter’s expecting and she’d like you to make one of them virtue rattles for her future grandchild. Over the moon she is. Must be nice to have something to look forward to,’ he smiled, his features softening. Eliza smothered a sigh, all too aware of where his thoughts were taking him.

      ‘Well that is good news,’ she agreed.

      ‘And everyone’s rallying round to help. Parsonage Farm have placed an order for ten sparrow traps,’ he added. ‘Not only that, Longstones are fed up with them shoddy laundry baskets Old Gliddon supplies and have transferred all of their orders to us. They’ve customers all over the county so that should put welcome coppers in the coffers. I only hope we’ve enough withies to keep us going until we harvest the new ones in December. Perhaps we could start early. I’ll check the leaves come mornin’.’

      ‘In that case we are both going to have a lot to do so we’d best have an early night. Good night Gramfer, try and get some sleep,’ she said quickly as she bent and kissed his whiskery cheek.

      ‘Night Eliza. Clem’s a fine man and thinks the world of you. But he won’t wait for ever.’

      Up in her room, breath spiralling in puffs before her, Eliza quickly changed into her calico nightgown. Too cold and dispirited to give her hair more than a cursory brush, she dived beneath the covers of the iron bedstead, pulling the patchwork cover right over her head. Her dream of resuming her position at the school had disappeared almost as soon as the idea had occurred, for now it seemed she was going to be busier than ever. Closing her eyes tightly to stop the tears escaping, she hardly heard the birds scrabbling in the old thatch above her or the mice scratching in the walls.

      ‘Oh Grammer, why did you have to die?’ she sobbed.

Chapter 3

      Next morning with the sun promising to break through the mist, Eliza determined to give their living room a thorough clean. She smiled, recalling her grammer’s fierce