The Bonbon Girl. Linda Finlay
on the table.
‘No need for that attitude, maid,’ he grunted, tamping tobacco into his pipe. Ignoring him, Colenso turned to her mamm.
‘Do you need any help with supper or have I time to sort out my things?’ she asked. From the appetizing aroma filling the room she guessed they were having root stew and her stomach rumbled in anticipation.
‘Finish listening to what your father has to say,’ Caja replied, shooting her a warning look.
‘You mean there’s more?’ she asked turning back to face him.
‘There is, maid. Mr Fenton is prepared not to call in the constable if you go for afternoon tea at his house on Sunday. Play your cards right and the Carnes could be on the up,’ he crowed, rubbing his hands together.
‘I have no wish to set eyes on that man again, let alone be entertained by him,’ Colenso cried.
‘Now listen here, my girl, it’s either that or be sent to gaol for theft. Take your pick. Fenton also let slip his friend were Justice of the Peace at Falmouth,’ he said, giving her a hard stare.
‘Like I said, I’ve done nothing wrong so I’ll take my chances.’ To her astonishment he smiled, his manner becoming conciliatory.
‘Look, maid, this is your opportunity. For some reason he finds you attractive. I’ve seen the way he stares at your …’
‘Father, please,’ Caja spluttered.
‘Well, if she has charms he wants then she should make the most of it. That’s how you women work, isn’t it? What’s that in your basket anyhow?’ he asked, leaning over and pulling out the bundle of material.
‘Offcuts, I mean remnants Emily gave me,’ Colenso said, making to take them from him.
‘Not so quickly, maid,’ he said, studying the cloth carefully. ‘This is good stuff. You can make yourself a nice top to wear on Sunday. Som’at to show off those, er, womanly assets,’ he leered.
‘I’ll have you know this material is to be the beginning of a quilt for when Kitto and I wed.’
‘Wed! You’ll not be wedding some apprenticed worker, not when there’s the chance of walking out with the manager of the works. Think about it, maid, you could be set up for life and see us all right too. After all we’ve done for you it’s the least you can do,’ he wheedled. Seeing the set of his chin, Colenso knew she was treading on dangerous ground but the subject was too important to let it rest.
‘Look, Father. Kitto is going to speak to you, ask for permission …’
‘Oh, so that’s what he wanted,’ he snarled, his demeanour changing. ‘Hanging around outside earlier, he was. Sent him packing with a flea in his ear, I can tell you. Told him never to darken my door again.’
‘But …’ she began then stopped as his eyes darkened, his hand going to his belt.
‘If you’ve been out sewing you’ll have been paid som’at, so give it here. All this jawing’s given me a thirst,’ he barked, holding out his hand.
Reluctantly, Colenso delved into her pocket and passed over the few precious coins Emily had given her.
‘Just look at them ’ands,’ Peder snorted. ‘You looks like a common washerwoman. Mother give her som’at to smooth them. A fine man like Fenton don’t want a woman with rough ’ands. And what’s this?’ he asked, his eyes narrowing as he took in the brass ring on her finger.
‘I told you, Father. Kitto and I are to be wed and …’ she began, snatching her hand back.
‘Over my dead body,’ he growled. ‘You can take that excuse for a ring off right now. You’ll marry who I says, maid, and that be final. Mother, talk some sense into this daughter of yours,’ he snarled.
‘Mamm …’ she began, looking imploringly at her mother, but her father shot out of his chair and seized her roughly by the shoulder.
‘Come Sunday, you’ll have a new top to wear, one a proper man like Fenton will find tempting.’
‘But I see Kitto on Sunday afternoons,’ Colenso protested. His grip tightened, making her wince. ‘It’s Fenton you’ll be seeing. Do I make myself clear?’ It was only when she nodded that he let go of her. As the door slammed behind him, banging the bowls together on the dresser, Colenso turned to her mamm. ‘I’ve never heard anything so despicable. I’m not an animal to be paraded around and sold to the highest bidder.’
‘I know that, Colenso,’ Caja sighed. ‘But it seems this is the only way to prevent Mr Fenton calling in the authorities.’
‘But I’ve done nothing wrong,’ she cried for what seemed like the hundredth time.
‘I know you haven’t, but Mr Fenton thinks otherwise and he’s the manager. Who are they going to believe, eh? Best you humour him, at least for now. We’ll take you to Fenton’s house on Sunday afternoon, be pleasant to the man and we’ll take it from there.’
‘But what about Kitto?’
‘I’ll let Mrs Rowse know you’ll be busy on Sunday. You really have no choice, Colenso. Besides, once you’ve visited Mr Fenton he might decide you’re not for him after all.’
‘Well, he’s certainly not for me. He’s old with a balding head, and the way he gawks gives me the creeps,’ Colenso shuddered.
‘You saw how determined your father was,’ Caja sighed. ‘Still, it’ll only be for an hour or so and we’ll stay with you. Now, I think there’s a pot of your grandmother’s calendula salve in here somewhere,’ she said, rummaging in the drawer.
‘Mammwynn wouldn’t insist on me going to Fenton’s house,’ Colenso cried.
‘No, but she didn’t have to live with your father, did she?’ Caja replied bleakly.
✳
Sunday, the day Colenso had been dreading, arrived seemingly in the blink of an eye. At her father’s insistence, she’d spent the past few days trying to improve her appearance. She’d been confined to the cottage and forbidden to fashion any trinkets from the rough offcuts of stone in case she scratched herself. Her hands had been slathered in thick salve and covered in cotton gloves to give it the best chance of sinking in. This had made sewing cumbersome, but when she’d complained her mamm had shrugged and said this was her opportunity, reminding her to brush her hair a hundred times and rub her teeth with the powder she’d mixed from bark, salt and liquorice root to whiten them. Then this morning she’d been made to bathe in water infused with the magnesium from ground-down serpentine to freshen her skin, and gargle with a tincture of clove to freshen her breath.
She’d pleated one of the squares Emily had given her and sewn it into the front of her best blouse, secreting the others away to make a quilt for when she and Kitto set up home together. Now she had to suffer the humiliation of standing in front of her father as he cast a critical eye over her appearance.
‘Shame she couldn’t have lost a bit of that podge, Mother, and why isn’t that top showing a bit more …’ he muttered, gesturing to her front.
‘I am not some prize filly,’ Colenso snapped, thoroughly disgruntled by the whole charade.
‘That you’re not, maid,’ he snorted. ‘Can’t turn pigskin into silk, can you? And I thought I told you to take that stupid curtain ring off.’ As Colenso opened her mouth to protest, they heard the sound of hooves outside. ‘Do it now, Colenso,’ he ordered. Seeing the set of his chin, Colenso reluctantly removed the ring and placed it in her pocket. ‘Let me escort you to our transport, Mother,’ he added grandly.
He led them outside to the waiting pony trap, where the driver, stiff-backed and straight-faced, touched his hat in deference.
‘See, maid, this is the life we could have if you acts right,’ her father grinned,