The Black Feathers by Rebecca Netley

Author:Rebecca Netley [Netley, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781405950275
Published: 2023-08-21T00:00:00+00:00

16

George brings the coach to the front of the house. A grinning Flora busies herself taking rugs and furs to the carriage. Albert and even Lizzie fidget in their excitement. I am grateful that we leave before the need to see Iris, relieved to distance myself from the events of the previous night.

Lodging, with increasing anxiety, is the fact I can no longer deny that Iris has some form of second sight – how else would she have been able to say what she had as she sleepwalked? But there is not only that. I recall the boy standing in the copse and twist uneasily in my seat.

We are soon settled and on our way out of Guardbridge. Albert sits by the window rocking his legs back and forth and even Lizzie gives my hand a squeeze and kisses my cheek. But I am waiting until we are away, on the winding moor road, and then I turn and view Guardbridge – a black shadow against the leaden sky.

I feel a loosening of emotion, as if I had been holding my breath for a long time. Lying back against the cushions, I gaze out to where wind sweeps the moor, rippling briar, and buzzards glide high in the cloud on their broad flat wings.

The journey passes quickly in talk of what we shall do, and Lizzie and Albert take out their purses more than once to count their coins and measure what they might buy, and it seems only an hour when the carriage pulls into an inn and we are helped down with our baskets. Tipping his cap, George takes the horses to rest and we walk to the town square and to the babble of noise and smells.

It has been many months since I have been among such crowds, and after the solitude and uniformity of Guardbridge, my senses do not know where to settle – on the women in their smart attires and colourful hats, the costermongers shouting wares or the faint smell of the sea, roasting meat and breads.

‘I must go to the dressmaker for a fitting,’ I say to Flora, ‘but I’ll find you later.’ I check the clock. ‘We could meet in the town square in an hour?’

Flora gathers the children and baskets and I watch their retreat – Albert gripping Flora’s hand and Lizzie, basket swinging, face upturned to Flora as she talks with enthusiasm.

The dress shop is situated on the main road, its display window lit by colourful lamps. I am excited at the thought of being able to afford a few new garments in the latest fashions and fabrics. The bell tinkles and a young woman ushers me in with a courteous bob, guiding me to a chair by the fire and offering food and drink. I accept a glass of wine, taking off my gloves and warming my hands on the heat.

When I have finished, a woman in an elaborate dress of striped pink comes through from the far end of the shop.

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