The Sea Shell Girl (3 page)

She was jerked out of her reverie as clouds of steam and soot belched from a tall chimney. Then with a loud whistle, the chains on the ferry began to clank and they edged slowly away from the jetty towards the huge naval port spread out on the opposite bank.

Once safely back on dry land, she shook her head in amazement. Never had she seen so many people or heard so much noise. Men called out in warning as they loaded
their wares onto the boats. Sailors strutted round in their smart blue uniforms, their baggy trousers and white collars distinguishing them from the milling crowds. Everywhere was a frenzy of activity, with smoke billowing out of tall chimneys, the incessant clanging of hammers ringing through the air, and the smell of the sea mingling with unfamiliar noxious odours. Above all, the ever-present gulls screeched as they swooped low, fighting for scraps.

Nicco guided the cart through the throng and Merry wrinkled her nose as she caught whiffs of the stale ale and baccy smoke that filtered out of the open pothouse doors. Then they were on some sort of street with carriages and carts flying past at alarming speed.

‘Oh my,' she whispered.

Nicco grinned. ‘Hold tight,' he said, urging the donkey faster.

Thank heavens he didn't have a horse, Merry thought, keeping her hands in her lap. She just hoped she'd tied her bonnet securely. Then, just as she'd become accustomed to the traffic hurtling along and the large buildings towering on each side of them, they shuddered to a halt.

‘There, I've brought you right to the premises of Mr Fairbright,' Nicco said, gesturing towards the large wooden structure alongside. Her heart sank. Now she wouldn't be able to explore. ‘Whilst you go and see him I will attend to my business. Wait here when you're done and I'll collect you.' He handed her down her parcel. ‘As I said, I know just the place to stop for supper; then we can really get to know each other,' he added with a suggestive wink.

Fighting down her irritation, Merry smiled her thanks then watched as he boldly steered the cart straight between two carriages. It was only when he'd disappeared that she remembered she'd never told him the name of the agent.

Merry stared at the building. How should she act? What should she say? Then, she pulled herself together. Her grandmother and mother were relying on her. Smoothing out her skirts, she gripped her parcel tighter, walked up the steps and opened the door.

The room she found herself in was gloomy but clean, with a highly polished counter running its length. Shelves lined every wall, all piled high with knitted garments. She stared round in dismay. Surely they wouldn't need any more?

‘Yes?' a querulous voice demanded.

Merry turned to see a stern-faced woman, dark hair coiled neatly in a bun, frowning at her.

‘Good morning, madam. My name is Merryn Dyer and I have some knit frocks I wish to sell,' she said, determined to meet the woman's stare.

‘You have an appointment?'

‘No, I didn't know I needed one,' she replied, her heart sinking.

‘The agent is a busy man and can't see anyone without prior notice. His next appointment is …' the woman sniffed and ran her long bony finger down a list, ‘… next Thursday at noon,' she stated, looking at Merry triumphantly.

‘But I've come all the way from Porthsallos,' Merry protested.

‘And that is my fault?' the woman asked, looking Merry up and down, then sniffing at her crumpled skirts and cumbersome pattins. ‘Mr Fairbright is a respectable man and deals only with garments of the finest quality.'

‘Then this is his lucky day,' Merry exclaimed, placing her parcel on the counter and tugging at the wrapping.

‘Really …' the woman began.

‘Is there a problem, Miss Brown?' a voice boomed.

‘No, sir. I was just explaining to Miss Dyer that you don't see people without an appointment,' the woman called sweetly, glaring at Merry at the same time.

A smartly dressed man, sporting a red spotted kerchief in his top pocket, appeared in the doorway at the back of the room.

‘And I was just explaining that I've come all the way from Porthsallos, sir,' Merry said, smiling apologetically. ‘I'm sorry but I wasn't aware you saw people only by appointment.'

‘Porthsallos, eh?' the man said, raising an eyebrow. ‘That is a fair distance,' he agreed, striding over and lifting one of the knit frocks from her parcel. ‘Well, well, well,' he remarked, picking up another one and taking it outside.

Merry's heart lurched. Surely he wasn't going to run off with her wares, she thought, hurrying after him.

‘This is good, very good, my dear. I've not seen ganseys – or knit frocks, as you call them – of this quality for many a month,' he said, smiling for the first time. ‘Come into my office and we'll discuss business.'

Merry's heart leaped as she followed him back inside.

‘Please bring us some refreshment, Miss Brown. This young lady has had a long journey.'

The woman's mouth tightened to a red slit. ‘Of course, Mr Fairbright, I'll bring you some tea right away.'

‘Thank you, and some of your excellent pound cake, if you would be so kind,' he added, hazel eyes twinkling as he gestured for Merry to take a seat. ‘Now, my dear, did you make these?'

Merry picked up the knit frocks with the shell pattern on the yoke. ‘I knitted these. Grandmother made the plain ones and Mother those,' she said, pointing to the rest.

‘It's a long time since I've seen the snake cable, and never before so expertly executed.'

‘Mother's a fine knitter,' Merry admitted.

‘Indeed. However, I don't recollect ever having seen a design such as this,' he said, frowning as he took the shell knit from her. Merry's heart flopped. Whatever had possessed her to make up her own pattern?

‘I'm sorry. I can make the next ones in the seeds and bars, or the diamonds, if you'd prefer.'

‘You misunderstand me, Miss Dyer. You all produce good work, but yours is …' He was interrupted by the door opening and a tray clattering down in front of them.

‘Please be careful, Miss Brown. We wouldn't want any tea spoiling these fine garments.'

The woman sniffed and glared at Merry before stomping from the room.

‘Oh dear, it would appear I've upset her ladyship's timetable,' he said, raising his eyebrows. ‘No, make that I have
definitely
upset it,' he added, staring woefully at the one decent-sized slice of cake alongside which nestled a tiny slither. Merry's mouth watered but when Mr Fairbright proffered the plate she politely made to take the
smaller slice. He shook his head. ‘That will be for me,' he said, taking it himself.

‘Oh, but …' she began.

‘You will be doing me a favour,' he assured her, patting his portly paunch. ‘Now, what was I saying? Oh, yes, your design is, how shall I put it? Eye-catching … yes, that's it.'

‘You mean you like them?' she asked, her cake halfway to her mouth.

‘I do indeed, Miss Dyer. More importantly, I know I can place them and would like to buy from you. First, though, I need assurance you will be able to provide me with knit frocks of this design and quality on a regular basis.'

She nodded eagerly. ‘But what about the others?' she asked.

‘I would like to buy those as well and will make you a fair offer. However, it is this shell design that will command a higher price. Now, I just need to speak with someone, so enjoy your refreshment and we'll do business when I return.'

Merry watched as he strode from the room then settled back in her chair. He liked her design and was going to buy from her. She glanced at the cake, deciding she was too excited to manage even one mouthful. The fruit glistened temptingly on the plate and, giving in to temptation, she snatched it up and took a bite. It was so delicious that by the time Mr Fairbright returned her plate was empty.

‘Just as I thought, we can definitely place these,' he said, smiling at her. As he named a price beyond her wildest hopes, it took all her willpower not to shriek in delight. ‘There is one proviso, though.' As he stared at her with
those candid hazel eyes, she held her breath. ‘I need your solemn promise that you will deliver the same quantity here in exactly one month.'

‘Yes, of course,' she assured him, daring to breathe again.

‘Good. Then I shall tell Miss Brown to enter your appointment in the diary. It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Dyer, and long may we continue to do so.'

Armed with fresh yarn and a heavy purse, Merry skipped down the steps and onto the street. There was no sign of Nicco and as she stared around her attention was caught by the notes of a hurdy-gurdy. A little white dog sporting a pointed hat was dancing in time to the music and behind him red and white striped awnings flapped in the breeze. Excitement bubbled and she found herself irresistibly drawn towards the attractions.

Merry had never seen anything like it and she darted from stall to stall in delight. One was a treasure trove of gewgaws, ribbons and pearl buttons. Another was piled high with bolts of brightly coloured materials, silks and threads, but it was the jewel-coloured shawls and bonnets edged with taffeta that caught her attention. Oblivious of the crowds milling around, she edged closer. She was just running a finger over the soft kid of a glove and picturing herself dressed in such finery when she felt a jolt in her back and pressure on her pocket.

‘Oi, take your hands off me,' she screamed, her hand going to her purse.

‘Unhand my girl this minute.' As the authoritative voice rent the air, a shadowy figure hurriedly disappeared
into the crowd. Black eyes blazing, Nicco grabbed Merry's hand and pulled her away.

‘You fool,' he hissed. ‘Anything could have happened to you.'

Merry felt the weight in her pocket and smiled. ‘No harm done,' she assured him, holding her purse aloft.

‘Put that away at once,' Nicco ordered, marching her towards his cart. ‘Have you no sense? This isn't sleepy Porthsallos. The town's a dangerous place, Merry. Why do you think I told you to wait for me? Now climb in and let's get home.' Seeing his angry face, her earlier euphoria drained away.

‘I was only looking at the finery,' she explained.

‘With a purse stuffed with coins? Really!' he spluttered, slapping the poor donkey's withers.

Feeling stupid, Merry stared down at her boots, the shock of what might have happened sinking in. Supposing her purse had been stolen, what would Grozen and her mother have said? They hadn't been keen for her to make the journey in the first place.

She stole a glance at Nicco. With his back ramrod straight and his face set as a mask, he looked quite overbearing. Not daring to break the silence she watched as he concentrated on avoiding the other carts and travellers. Finally she could stand it no longer.

‘Goodness, it's much busier than when we came,' she remarked, eager to break the tension.

‘Seeing as you slept most of the way here you are hardly in a position to compare,' he pointed out.

Did he have to be so pompous? She'd only had a tiny nap.

Irked beyond reason, she lapsed into silence and they reached the ferry without further conversation. As they crossed the wide expanse of water, she relaxed and felt her spirits rising. This ferryman, a younger, more handsome man than on the way over earlier, caught her eye and winked. Glad to see a cheerful face, she smiled back, only to have Nicco grab her hand. Angrily, she made to snatch it away but his grip tightened.

‘Come on, Merry, surely you've learned your lesson about not trusting strangers,' he hissed. When she didn't answer, he sighed. ‘I'm not cross with you any more.'

‘Look, Nicco, I admit I shouldn't have wandered off, especially with my purse full, but you are not my keeper.'

‘No, not yet,' he answered, staring into her eyes.

‘What's that supposed to mean?' she spluttered, but the ferry had reached the bank and for a moment he was too busy gathering up the reins to answer.

‘Let's just say I can see why your mother was worried about you going to Plymouth on your own and …' he began.

‘What has my mother got to do with anything?' Merry asked, her earlier suspicion returning.

Nicco shrugged, his supercilious expression sending her blood bubbling, but the day had caught up with her and she suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired. She just wanted to get home, she thought, stifling a yawn.

‘It's a good job you didn't have to walk,' he said, grinning at last.

‘Meeting me on the way was no coincidence, was it?' she asked. As he gave another superior grin something
niggled at the back of her mind but try as she might she couldn't think what it was.

The wind rose, buffeting the little cart from side to side and making further talk impossible. Merry shivered, tightening her shawl around her and wishing the journey over. It was growing dark by the time they reached the village and she was pleased to see the welcome flickering of candles coming from the cottages below. As the donkey slowed at the brow of the hill, she quickly gathered up her parcel of yarn and jumped out before Nicco had a chance to remember his invitation to supper.

‘Thanks for the lift,' she called. Ignoring his protests, she ran down the hill, darting into the warren that led to their little cottage.

Her mother threw open the door, fussing as if she'd been away a week instead of a day.

‘Come in and sit yourself in front of the fire, our Merry,' she urged. ‘I'll get your supper.'

‘How did you get on?' Grozen asked, getting down to business as usual.

‘Very well indeed. Mr Fairbright's a really nice man,' Merry grinned, her good mood returning as she handed over her purse. Her grandmother's relief was evident.

‘Why there's enough here to pay the rent and buy food,' she exclaimed. ‘I suppose it was your mother's work that commanded such fine payment.'

‘Mr Fairbright liked all our work, Grozen, but surprisingly it was my shell-pattern frocks he paid most for.'

‘Really,' the old woman said, her eyes widening in surprise. ‘You hear that, Karenza?'

‘Well done, Merry,' her mother said, handing her a steaming bowl. ‘I'll see if I can get us a sheep's head or something tomorrow to celebrate. It'll make a nice change from this limpet broth.'

‘Not half,' Grozen replied with feeling. ‘Is this the yarn this Fairbright gave you?' As Merry nodded, the woman gathered it up, hurried over to the dresser and placed it carefully on the old scales. ‘Well, he's not diddled you,' she proclaimed.

‘I told you, he's a nice man, Grozen,' Merry said, pausing mid-sip.

‘Doesn't pay to be too trusting of people you don't know,' Grozen grunted, looking meaningfully at Karenza as she settled back into her chair. She looped a hank of the indigo wool over her hands, then leaned closer to her daughter, who automatically began winding it into a ball.

They were acting casually but Merry wasn't fooled, and no sooner had she put down her spoon than they pressed her to tell them about her day. She told them about her deal with the agent and the disagreeable Miss Brown, but omitted to mention the incident in the market. There was no point in worrying them.