The Tower Room by Rona Randall

Author:Rona Randall
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2016-05-18T22:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

A day or two later Joe Boswell stamped through the cottage door, slammed it behind him, and said to his wife, ‘Heard the latest news about that daughter o’ yours?’

‘D’you expect me to?’ Mabel crossed to the kitchen range to stir the pot of stew which she topped up daily. (No one could accuse her of not seeing there was a regular supply of nourishment for her man.) Returning to the armchair in which she slouched for most of the day and picking up the damp stub of a half-smoked cigarette, she added, ‘Since she left Frenshaw’s she’s gone her own way — though I must admit she drops in regular on my birthday and afore Christmas.’

That fanned the resentment he’d been nursing since his recent encounter with the girl.

‘She don’t come when I be about. Why didn’t ye tell me?’

‘Didn’t think you’d be interested. After all, you’d no fondness for the lass. So wot’s this latest news about ’er an’ how did ye come by it?’

‘The Master Potter’s spending more fees on different training for ’er — clever stuff the potbank’s never gone in for before. Real favouritism that is. You know how word gets around — well, this time everyone’s agog with it, an’ more besides, thanks to that brat Daisy Wilkins who was an apprentice same time as Sarah and whose mam ain’t no better’n she should be.’

‘And how d’you know that, may I ask? And wot d’you mean by “more besides”?’

‘Daisy were bragging about her mam working at houses o’ the gentry when big parties were on, an’ how last New Year’s Eve her mam were taken on for the dance at Dunmore Abbey, handing round trays o’ champagne, an’ she were standing close to the reception line when in walks that daughter o’ yours wearin’ an evenin’ dress she could never’ve bought for ’erself. Knocked everyone back, it did. And knocked back somebody for more than a tidy sum, from the sound of it.’

‘Gossip,’ sniffed Mabel, as if she never listened to it. ‘That Wilkins woman’s a born liar, anyway. And that New Year’s Eve dance at the abbey is known to be for estate workers, which Sarah and her old gran are not.’

‘They were there, anyway. That chap Lefever too. The Master Potter always invites one or two of his top workers.’ Joe added in a resentful mutter, ‘Should’ve been me, not that Frenchie,’ whereupon Mabel looked wistful and Joe hoped t’ God she wouldn’t start whining about that when she’d had time to chew it over.

‘That girl o’ yours has got real uppity now she’s in with the gentry,’ he growled.

‘The gentry? Our Sarah? Come off it, Joe. Living in a worker’s cottage at the abbey don’t mean she mixes with any but the neighbours. They were a lucky pair to get a cottage there an’ I’d dear like to know how it came about. My guess is, Kate fixed it. First she gets that almshouse, an’ next she’s moved to the Dunmore estate! If I knew how she wangles it I wouldn’t mind taking a leaf out of her book.

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