Grace continued to feel lonely. Solitude didn’t suit her, despite often seeking it in the past by escaping to Hel Tor. She wondered if her loneliness was a sign that it was time to return home. If it was, the stubborn part of her character refused to do it. She was happy to mix with the clay workers, as they didn’t know her past, but she couldn’t bear the thought of facing the villagers of Trehale or the employees of Kellow Dairy. She didn’t have the stamina to ignore their gossip or challenge them about it. Yet, she longed for company and reassured herself that it was possibly a sign that she was one step closer to feeling normal again. It appeared that the short time at Roseland was beginning to work its magic.
Although much of her time was taken up by Amelia, there were longs stretches when she was not required and it was at these times she felt the yearning for company the most. Henry’s visits were becoming a regular occurrence. His arrival, all smiles and plans, lit up Amelia’s face. Grace had to admit, Amelia’s excitement was infectious and when she whispered for Grace to leave them alone, she saw no reason not to. Grace couldn’t help feeling happy for her. It was obvious to her, if not her brother, that Amelia was falling in love. Henry was a suitable match. He was steady, financially secure and several years older than her. For Amelia, his attention was a potent tonic and lifted her spirits in a way that Grace’s company could never do. Grace’s free time was fast becoming a regular afternoon occurrence.
Seeking company, Grace returned to Bothick Mine again, but only when she knew Talek was not there. A loud hooter pierced the air on her arrival, signalling crib time. Eager to help, she immediately offered her services to Isaac. Although reluctant at first, he finally gave her a job of helping Billy pour drinks for the men who were gathering at the crib hut. The clay workers’ easy banter and dry sense of humour, soon teased a smile from Grace and she quickly found herself enjoying the busy workers’ break. However, she knew she could not make a habit of entering Bothick Mine. Talek had shown his disapproval and although he had relented, she had no wish to antagonise him further. Despite her bravado at the time, she was acutely aware that she owed the man a great deal of gratitude.
Fortunately, during her second visit to the crib hut, she discovered where her help could be offered that would not antagonise Talek. She listened quietly to the miners’ easy conversation, spoken through a mist of steaming tea as she circled the hut with a piping hot kettle and poured them all a mug of tea. It appeared that the village was preparing for the annual celebrations to mark the anniversary of the discovery of clay in the area and help was needed to decorate the village hall and run the stalls. The opportunity offered Grace everything she needed, company and a joyful distraction from what was really ailing her, and all within a community that knew little about her.
* * *
Talek looked over the carpet of clay laid out in the kiln. One end looked dry and ready for removal. His shift boss agreed with him and gave orders to the men waiting nearby to start removing it. The heat of the furnace was hard to take and Talek pitied the men, stripped to the waist, feeding the burners, but it helped put food on their table and they were grateful for the work. He slipped off his jacket and loosened the top button of his shirt as he walked the length of the building; his keen eye checking that the white layer was drying evenly along the route as it would be a sign that the heating system underneath was working correctly. He hoped Henry was checking their other pit, as he had promised. Stenna Pit was smaller and Henry oversaw it, just as Talek was overseeing this main one now.
A labourer approached, wringing his cloth cap in his hands and determined to speak with him. Talek waited for him to reach him and realised, with a start, he didn’t know if the man was in his employ or not. It irked him to know that Grace had been right when she’d accused him of not knowing his workers.
‘Mr Danning, may I ’ave a word?’
Talek gave a sharp nod that he could.
‘I’m looking for work, sir.’
Talek noticed the muscular arms and black dirt engrained around his nails.
‘What do you do?’ he asked, already knowing the answer.
‘Blacksmith by trade. I ’eard you were looking for one, but I’m willing to turn my ’and at anything.’
Talek studied the man. His hair was in need of a wash, but what labourer’s hair wasn’t? They were too busy working all the hours they could to soak in a tub for long. Their children were usually well turned out, but the man of the house left good grooming to necessity. This man didn’t appear to think that asking for employment warranted it.
‘Where are you from?’ Talek asked.
‘Near Bodmin Moor.’
Talek waited for more information. People usually learnt of a vacancy by word of mouth from family, friend or neighbour. Strangers to the area rarely just walk in and requested it. Even rarer did they get employed with no one to vouch for them. Not around this tight-knit community anyway. The man fidgeted under his steady gaze as the silence stretched.
Eventually he said, ‘I worked for old man Toby. Worked with ’im for a year, but ’e don’t need me any more.’
‘I know of no Toby. Why doesn’t he need you?’
‘’E dropped down dead whilst shoeing an ’orse. Old age they say.’
The man appeared sincere. Talek watched the cloth cap spin in his hands as he wondered why he was making the man sweat for his answer. Isaac, the shift boss, stood nearby and probably knew that Talek was just as desperate to hire a new blacksmith as this man was to work as one. Yet he still felt unsure.
He glanced at Isaac, and decided he was overthinking things too much. He gave a curt nod of his head.
‘We need a blacksmith.’ He jerked his head towards Isaac. ‘This is Mr Simmons, he’ll sort you out with the details. You can start tomorrow.’ The man was embarrassingly grateful making Talek keen to leave. He turned to go when a thought struck him.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked, turning round as he slipped on his jacket. ‘We’ll need it for the payroll?’
‘Alfred, sir. Alfred Petherbridge.’
* * *
Talek returned home to find his sister and Henry about to leave. He wasn’t sure what unsettled him the most, the fact that Amelia was going out and would be subject to stares without him nearby to protect her or that Henry was taking on the role he’d always seen as his.
As Talek watched Henry carefully lift Amelia from the armchair to a waiting wicker wheelchair, he realised something was different. Amelia and Henry’s friendship had changed. It had strengthened under his very nose and he wondered how he had not seen it before. He frowned. He’d become aware that Henry was spending more time at Roseland, but he had always assumed he was seeking the solitude and peace he himself had often found there. It was true that on several occasions, he had returned home to find Amelia quietly reading in a chair and Henry at work at Talek’s desk like an old married couple. He had even teased them about it. Yet, seeing Henry lift Amelia and seeking her company outside of work was new to him. He felt unsettled, even excluded, and did not know why. Was it just brotherly concern or was it envy that those closest to him were finally enjoying life whereas his remained staid and stale?
‘Where are you going?’ Talek asked Amelia more gruffly than he had intended, as Henry wheeled his sister through the hall.
Henry answered for her. ‘We’re going to the village. The band is playing.’
Talek followed them out into the late afternoon sun. ‘I didn’t know you held an interest in the village entertainment.’
‘Grace thought it would be good to show our faces as many of the villagers are employed at Bothick Mine,’ said Amelia. ‘Open the door, Talek. Henry can’t open the door and push me at the same time.’
‘Are you coming?’ asked Henry as they navigated past him.
Talek declined, but followed in their wake to help Amelia into the waiting trap. ‘I have no intention of being the third person on your cosy ride.’ Grace came to mind. ‘Where is Grace?’ He eyed Roseland Manor towering over them and wondered which curtain she was hiding behind this time.
‘She is already there,’ said Amelia. ‘She has been helping them decorate the hall. Come with us. It should be fun.’
Talek helped Henry lift her into the trap.
‘I have enough to do here,’ said Talek, watching his sister straightening her dress. Her fingers trembled with excitement at what was nothing more than a small, local outing. Pangs of guilt gnawed at him that his sister’s life had come to this and he could do little about it. ‘Look after my sister,’ said Talek to Henry.
Henry climbed into the trap beside Amelia. His sister beamed at her brother. Henry, on the other hand, did not.
‘You sound as if you don’t trust me, Talek. How long have you known me? I expect better from you than that.’
On a twist of a farthing, the mood between the men had changed and Talek had not seen it coming. Henry flicked the reins and the trap lurched forward, before Talek could reply. He was forced to hide his concern from Amelia behind a smile, as he watched her clutch onto her hat and wave an enthusiastic goodbye. Henry, his back stiff, his shoulders’ straight, did not look back at all. Was it his imagination that Henry’s reaction was a little extreme to what was no more than a passing request to care for his sister? Talek felt as if the ground under his feet was shifting as everyone was behaving very differently. Amelia’s desire to be out and about and Henry’s generosity to his sister had all been stirred up since Grace’s arrival. She was even immersing herself in his workers’ lives, which was never a good thing to do.
