The Girl with the Red Ribbon (6 page)

‘It's so kind of you to have paid us a visit but we mustn't keep you,' she said with her superficial smile.

Politely, Rowan's aunt and uncle got to their feet.

‘Before you go, Auntie, I've finished those socks you asked for,' Rowan said, jumping up and going over to the dresser.

‘Why, thank you, Rowan. As ever, they're beautifully knitted. Now what do I owe you?' Sal asked, putting them down and rootling around in her basket.

‘Nothing, Auntie, I enjoyed making them,' Rowan said, thinking of all the things her aunt had done for her over the years.

‘Now, Rowan, it must have taken you ages, for we all
know your uncle has big feet,' Sal laughed, nudging her husband. ‘Then there's the wool.'

‘Which you spun,' Rowan replied.

‘And you dyed,' her aunt countered, laughing. ‘So, I insist. Oh, and then there's the sage oil, too.'

Rowan shook her head. ‘No, that's a present for Uncle Silas. I've been working on a new formula, so do let me know if it works.'

‘I will that, Rowan, my dear. I've no doubt it will do the trick. Your magic potions always do,' her uncle said, smiling. Despite her protests, Auntie Sal insisted on pressing some coins into Rowan's hand. Fanny looked on, her sharp eyes taking in the exchange.

‘Treat yourself to a little something, dearie; you deserve it,' her aunt said quietly, enveloping Rowan in her motherly arms. As the girl breathed in the sweet smell of her country freshness, she couldn't help wishing her new stepmother was more like her aunt.

‘ 'Bye then, our Rowan,' her uncle said. Then, leaning forward, he whispered, ‘That one's like a fox with her cunning ways. She's got your father eating out of her hand, and I'm thinking it'll be better for you if you go along with her changes. You know where we are if you should need us.' And with a rueful grin he followed his wife out of the door.

Rowan watched as her aunt and uncle trundled away, wishing with all her heart she was going with them. Her uncle, ever wise, was right about Fanny, but Rowan couldn't just stand by and let her change everything, could she?

Rowan stood on the step waving until her aunt and uncle were swallowed up by the twilight. For the first time in ages, she felt really alone, almost abandoned. Shaking herself for being so fanciful, she hurried across the yard and began shooing the chickens back into their coops. She was just shutting them in for the night when she heard a whinny and saw Bramble peering over the stable door. Sab was back. He looked up and nodded as she entered the shippon, and then returned to milking Daisy without saying anything. Shooting him a grin, she pulled up a stool alongside Buttercup, and began rhythmically pulling on the cow's udders. The smell of hay and the steady munching of the cattle were comforting and she felt herself relaxing as they worked together in the flickering light of the candle lantern.

‘Quite like old times again,' she said, after a few moments. ‘You missed a lovely tea earlier, Sab. Auntie Sal brought us some of her splitties.' He shrugged, looking despondent. ‘Don't worry, I've saved one for you,' she added. He gave a quick grin of acknowledgement, but still didn't say anything.

Rowan continued with her milking, giving him time to collect himself before telling her what was on his mind. Finally, though, impatience got the better of her.

‘I went up to Five Acre Field this morning but couldn't
see any sign of you,' she said, staring at him through the animal's legs.

‘Took the wagon down to Saltcombe and collected a load of seaweed for the vegetable garden,' he grunted.

‘Oh, Sab, why didn't you come and get me?' she cried in disappointment. ‘You know how I love to go to the beach. We're nearly out of chalk and I could have collected some.'

‘Sorry, Rowan. I'd had it up to here with that woman and her orders,' he said, raising his hand above his forehead. ‘Had to get away before I exploded. At least the dogs got a good run.'

‘Lucky them,' she said with feeling. ‘I knew Fanny ordering you to empty her chamber pot was too much. Did you put the urine in the collecting pot?'

‘No I did not!' he exclaimed. ‘It was the most revolting mess … Well, you don't want to know. But that wasn't all. She wanted me to light the fire in the parlour and then change the furniture around. When I'd finished that, she insisted I move their bed so it faces the window, even though I pointed out the draught from the loose sash would blow over her head at night. She got right on her top note, insisting she had to see the view. I ask you, have you ever heard anything like it?'

Rowan shook her head and moved her stool over to the next impatient cow. Then a thought struck her.

‘You must have got caught in that storm then,' she said.

‘What storm? I didn't drive through any storm,' he said.

‘That's strange. It must have been very local then, because Aunt Sal and Uncle Silas didn't catch it either. I was up the top visiting Mother and it blew up out of
nowhere,' she explained, thinking back. Lost in their own worlds, they continued milking.

‘Well, that's me finished,' Sab announced some time later, carefully setting his full pails outside the shippon door and returning to collect hers. ‘Thanks for helping, Rowan. Don't know what's happened to Uncle Ted. Or perhaps I do,' he said, looking at her meaningfully. ‘I'll carry these over to the dairy. I dare say you'll be wanting to see about our meal,' he added hopefully, his usual cheeky grin returning.

Rowan wiped the beads of perspiration from her forehead and got to her feet.

‘No, I won't, Sab. Fanny's made it clear she is lady of the farm now, so as far as I'm concerned that includes preparing our meals,' Rowan stated.

‘Heaven help us then,' Sab groaned. ‘My stomach's already rumbling and grumbling like blasts from the quarry.' As he stood there looking crestfallen, Rowan's heart went out to him. A full stomach and Sab went together.

‘I'll go and see if there's any sign of supper,' she said, patting his arm. Quickly wiping the muck from her feet on the straw, she made her way through to the kitchen.

Inside, her father and stepmother were sitting side by side on the bacon settle with Fanny admiring a pair of house shoes she'd just unwrapped.

‘Edward, these are truly delightful. How clever of you to have chosen them,' she gushed, holding them up for Rowan to admire.

Gritting her teeth, Rowan forced a smile. They must have cost her father a pretty packet.

‘Well,
you made such a fuss about ruining your others, my dear, I thought I'd better do something about it. Now, come on, open your other parcel,' he said excitedly.

Fanny didn't need telling twice and tore open the paper, anticipation lighting her face. Then her expression changed and she held up the contents enquiringly.

‘What on earth are these ugly things?' she exclaimed, wrinkling her nose.

‘They are pattens, my dear. You place them over your shoes to protect them from the mud and dirt. They're ideal for walking through the farmyard, and you did say you couldn't go outside again until you had something serviceable to wear.'

Rowan grinned as she watched her stepmother hastily rewrap them.

‘I should imagine you'd have more use for these – these patten things, Rowan,' Fanny scowled, thrusting the parcel into her hands. Then seeing the crestfallen look on her husband's face, she smiled and patted his arm. ‘It's for the best, Edward. You know how worried I've been about her going barefoot in this weather. You really are a kind and clever man to have thought of both of us, isn't he, Rowan, dear?'

‘But I never wear anything on my feet unless I go up to the fields. Never have and never will,' Rowan insisted. ‘Mother never did either. As I've said before, we like to feel connected to the earth and …'

‘Yes, quite,' her stepmother said, cutting her short. ‘Now, Edward, I'm sure you must be hungry.' Rowan watched open-mouthed as Fanny deftly deflected the subject by leaning forward and kissing her father's cheek. He flushed, but smiled adoringly at his new wife.

‘You
are already becoming quite the farmer's wife, my dear,' he said. ‘I'll go outside and have a rinse before we eat.'

As soon as the door had closed behind him, Fanny turned to Rowan. ‘Well, what's for our meal then?' she barked.

Remembering their earlier conversation, Rowan stared at her stepmother in surprise. ‘I'd have thought as lady of the farm you'd know,' she quipped. Then she saw the pebble eyes harden and wished she'd kept quiet.

‘I'm sure your father would hate to think you were being unhelpful to his new wife,' Fanny said in a tight voice. As Rowan opened her mouth to protest, Fanny moved closer, towering over her slight form. ‘Either you co-operate, missy, or there'll be trouble. If it comes to having to make a choice between us, you can be sure your father will choose me. A man has other needs besides a full stomach, and you can rest assured I satisfy those extremely well.'

Hearing the venom in Fanny's voice, Rowan swallowed hard. What did she mean, ‘choice'? Why would her father have to choose between them?

At that moment he came bounding back into the room like an eager puppy and Fanny hurried over to him, kissing his cheek. As he beamed at her in delight, she gave Rowan a triumphant smirk over his shoulder. Not able to stand it a moment longer, Rowan went out to the pantry and leaned her forehead against the stone shelf, willing herself to calm down. Surely Fanny would never really make her father choose between them? No, that could never happen. They'd always been close, especially since her mother had died. Yet something was nagging at the
back of her mind. Of course, the storm. Nobody else had experienced it, so could it have been a warning from her mother? How she wished Sab would appear so she could discuss it with him. Blinking back tears, she caught sight of the fresh bread and cold meat her auntie had brought with her and snatched them up.

Back in the kitchen, her stepmother was still fawning over her father and it took all of Rowan's willpower not to slam the food down on the table. Luckily Sab clattered through the door before she had time to say something she'd regret.

‘That looks good,' he said, his face lighting up at the sight of food as usual. ‘I'm that starving I could eat a whole pig to meself.'

‘Sorry, we're clean out of pigs, Sab,' Rowan teased, smiling, her mood lifting at his characteristic banter. ‘Aunt Sal did bring us some cold beef and a loaf of her freshly baked bread, though,' she added, carefully emphasizing the words ‘Aunt Sal'. Fanny, however, chose to ignore her, busying herself slicing the meat then passing a piled platter to Edward.

‘There you are, my dear. I do hope you find the beef cooked to your liking.'

‘It looks perfect, Fanny dear. If you carry on feeding me like this, I shall have to loosen my belt before much longer,' he said, giving her a grin.

Rowan stared at him in amazement, the knife piercing a hole in the bread she was buttering. Sensing her tension, Sab quickly intervened.

‘It's been a really busy day, Uncle. First I had to …' he began.

‘Don't
worry Edward with trivialities, please, Sab,' Fanny interrupted. ‘Let him enjoy his meal. He's had a busy day, too, and needs to relax.' She was looking at Sab so pointedly he turned as red as the flames licking the grate. Miserably he stared down at his empty plate. Rowan passed him meat and bread, but barely got a nod in response.

Only the logs crackling in the grate and the clatter of cutlery against their platters broke the silence as they ate. As soon as they'd finished, though, Fanny turned to Edward.

‘A little bird tells me you're partial to something sweet, my dear,' she said, smiling across at him. Getting to her feet, she returned moments later and with a flourish placed the pudding on the table before him. As her father's eyes lit up, Rowan could hardly contain her anger. Surely her stepmother wasn't going to pass this off as her own as well?

‘Oh, Fanny, my dear, apple pudding, my absolute favourite,' Edward exclaimed, only to watch in astonishment as she carefully cut away the sponge and spooned out some of the fruit.

‘See, Edward, my dear, already I've learned how you do things here in Devonshire,' she gushed, triumphantly placing the dish of apple before him.

Edward's face fell as he looked from the apple to the soft, feathery sponge left behind on the plate. Rowan saw him swallow and then smile bravely as he picked up his spoon. ‘Well done, Fanny, my dear,' he uttered faintly.

Sab looked across at Rowan and raised his eyebrows, and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

‘Don't
worry, I'll rescue the pudding later,' he whispered, grinning.

Sure enough, as soon as they'd finished eating, he jumped to his feet, gathered their empty dishes and took them, along with the sponge, to the scullery. As he went out of the door, Magic shot past him, sniffing the air hopefully. Then she spied Fanny and skidded to a halt. Arching her back, she began hissing and spitting at her.

Fanny's eyes narrowed and she raised her hand, but before she could do anything, Sab returned. Glaring at Fanny, he snatched up the cat and took her outside, and Rowan could hear him crooning as he gave her a dish of milk.

‘And what have you been up to today, my dear?' Edward asked in the intervening silence.

Recovering her composure, Fanny smiled and turned to Rowan.

‘First thing this morning, Rowan and I had a lovely woman-to-woman chat, didn't we, my dear?' she said, her voice rising in that sickly sweet way Rowan had come to recognize.

First thing? It had been halfway through the day before the woman had even surfaced. She opened her mouth to say as much but saw her father beaming at them in delight and held her tongue.

‘I explained that now I'm here, she needn't worry about the running of the farmhouse, for, of course, that will be my responsibility,' Fanny continued. Leaning across, she patted Rowan's hand and gave her one of those nauseating smiles which never reached her eyes. Quickly, Rowan snatched her hand away.

‘Good,
good,' her father said, blissfully unaware of the undercurrent going on around him.

‘Now,' Fanny went on, reaching for her writing paper, ‘although Rowan has done her best around here, changes need to be made to bring things up to an acceptable standard.'

Rowan gasped in protest and Edward blinked in surprise.

‘Changes?'

‘Yes, Edward, changes, and we will start with you. You are a handsome devil, my dear, but sporting bristles is a common look. Now, it appears our prince has taken to wearing sideburns, and you may too, although the rest of your face is to be clean-shaven.'

Frowning, Edward stroked his beard. ‘But I like my beard, and shaving takes precious time out of the day.'

‘Don't be difficult, Edward, my dear. A new wife, a new start, isn't that what they say?' Fanny smiled as she patted his hand.