The Girl with the Amber Comb - Linda Finlay

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placed an order for two eel traps so I should have the money for Miller later today,’ George said, staring knowingly at him.

      ‘Goodness, I’m only halfway through making them,’ Eliza exclaimed. ‘I’d better get on.’

      ‘Happy to help,’ Clem said, trying to keep up with her as she hurried out to the barn.

      ‘Are you sure you’re not too busy?’ Eliza asked, still puzzling over his behaviour.

      ‘Got no more deliveries to make and two pairs of hands will work quicker,’ he replied. She nodded, knowing he was right. There was no telling what time the fisherman would be calling for his traps, and Old Conger wasn’t a man to be kept waiting.

      ‘Well if you’re sure,’ she said, sinking gratefully onto her stool and picking up the basket she’d started earlier. ‘You know what to do?’ Clem let out a loud guffaw that almost raised the rafters.

      ‘Been making these since you was in cradlehood,’ he snorted, stooping to gather up a pile of withies from the stack in the corner.

      ‘I’ll have you know I’m only three years younger than you, Clem Galton,’ she spluttered.

      ‘In years maybe, but experience?’ he shrugged. ‘Travelling the waterways of Somerset, collecting and delivering for Father, I meet lots of people, see what goes on in life. You’ve not really been away from the Droves, have you, Red?’ he asked.

      ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve enjoyed spending time in Stoke helping Mrs Poundsberry at the school, but now of course, I shall have to give that up,’ she sighed.

      ‘I’m sorry, I only meant you haven’t seen much of life,’ he murmured, reaching out and patting her shoulder. Then never one to stay serious for long he added, ‘At least those poor little girls have had a narrow escape.’

      ‘Ha ha. I’ll have you know they worked well for me,’ she retorted.

      ‘Mother Eliza, eh?’ he grinned, then sobered. ‘Seriously though, is there really no way you can carry on with your job? What about Izziah Gliddon, I’m sure he …’

      ‘Don’t even mention that man’s name to me,’ she cut in. ‘He called the day after … she was taken, offering to take on Grammer’s orders. You know how she prided herself on her work with it all coming by recommendation. Gliddon’s associated with shoddy tatt and she’d turn in her grave if she thought I’d let him take over her business.’

      ‘She would that,’ Clem agreed.

      ‘Besides I daren’t leave Gramfer so soon after losing her. He looks so frail and lost without her,’ she sighed.

      ‘Still in shock, I suppose. When he’s had time to adjust, I’m sure you’ll be able to work something out. In the meantime, keeping busy is best.’

      ‘Well there’s certainly enough to do,’ she sighed, raising her brows. ‘Which reminds me, I lifted some more potatoes and carrots from the plot for Mrs Gill the greengrocer in Stoke earlier. The sacks are outside if could you deliver them for me on your return trip?’

       ‘Of course. Usual terms of business, extra tea and cake next visit,’ he bartered.

      ‘Thanks Clem,’ she smiled gratefully. ‘And do you think you could drop this letter into the school, it would save me a lot of time today,’ she replied, delving into her pocket for the envelope and handing it to him.

      ‘Certainly madam. Any more orders whilst I’m out and about?’ he asked with a grin.

      ‘I’ll try and think of some,’ she teased. Silence filled the barn as they resumed their work and before long, the slightly astringent smell of tannin and the rhythmic weaving began to soothe her. She couldn’t help thinking about the school though.

      ‘It’s not just about the money I earned. I really enjoyed teaching those little girls their letters.’ she added, picking up the knife and attacking the bottom spokes that would help trap the fish.

      ‘Here, let me. You’ll do yourself a mischief hacking away like that,’ Clem said, reaching out and taking the basket from her. ‘I can understand why you wouldn’t want to work for old Gliddon though,’ he said, looking up.

      ‘You can?’

      ‘Of course. I wouldn’t want to be employed by someone with one eye higher than the other. Bit shifty, don’t you think?’

      ‘Oh Clem, that’s a dreadful joke,’ she groaned.

      ‘Made you smile, though,’ he chuckled, handing the trap back to her.

      ‘I’m sorry for being miserable, Clem,’ she sighed. ‘I really miss Grammer, and know it’s up to me to take over her role but …’

      ‘But?’

      ‘I feel as trapped as those poor fish swimming into here will be,’ she admitted, holding up the basket.

      ‘Handy for dinner though,’ he grinned, then looked sheepish when she shot him a look. ‘I do feel sorry for those eels actually. There they are happily swimming up our rivers going about their business, when bang they get caught in the trap with no way out.’

      ‘I know it sounds bad Clem, especially after all Gramfer’s going through, but that’s exactly how I feel at the moment,’ she admitted. He was quiet for a moment, then he laid down his basket.

      ‘Come on Red, you’re seventeen yet sound as though your life’s over. Here you are on the verge of woman—’ Embarrassed, he looked down at his hands. ‘Earlier when I was telling you about those Welsh love spoons and their intentions, I was hoping you might see what I was getting at, but obviously I’m not very good at explaining myself.’ He took a deep breath and turned to face her, his expression unusually serious.

      Fearing what he was about to say, and wanting to keep their relationship as free and easy as it had always been, Eliza opened her mouth to reply. However, Clem continued.

      ‘What with it being your birthday and us good friends, well better than that I was thinking. You must know how fond I am of you, and I was hoping you felt the same.’

       ‘Of course, I do,’ she cried, for he really was her best friend and, as he helped sell the extra vegetables she grew, her business partner too. Seeing hope flare in his eyes, she knew she had to stop him from saying anything further. ‘You’re the brother I never had, Willow Man,’ she replied, using her pet name for him. There was silence for a moment then he got to his feet.

      ‘That’s something I suppose,’ he sighed. ‘Enjoy the rest of your birthday, Red.’

      ‘But I thought you were staying for supper,’ she called, as he made for the door.

      ‘If you want your letter and supplies delivered today, I’d better get going. Tell George I’ll have that talk with him next year. It’d probably a bit insensitive now anyhow.’

      ‘What talk?’ she asked but he was already outside hefting the sack over his shoulder. Picking up his unfinished trap, she continued weaving, her thoughts running amok. While she had great affection for him, she couldn’t even think of furthering their relationship at this time.

      ‘Somethin’ smells good,’ George said sniffing the air appreciatively as he shuffled wearily into their tiny living room. Throwing his battered felt cap down onto the settle, he noticed the table set for two and frowned. ‘No Clem?’ he asked.

      Eliza looked up from the pan where she was frying the eel Old Conger had skinned and presented to her as a birthday gift. Luckily, she’d just managed to finish both traps before he’d arrived.

       ‘He was delivering my letter and vegetables to Stoke for me,’ she replied tipping the sizzling food onto two plates.

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