Free The Sea Shell Girl by Linda Finlay Page A

nice if Nicco had been a gentleman and insisted she keep her seat but at least she was spared listening to any more of his lectures. The voices droned on and her thoughts returned to her most pressing matter. How could she visit Plymouth and the market by herself? Carrying twelve knit frocks on her back as well as walking
all that way in her pattins would be no easy feat. If the weather stayed dry, though, she could probably get away with wearing just her hobbies …
    She was no nearer solving her problem by the time the cart rattled to a halt at the top of the hill that led down into Porthsallos.
    ‘Otto and I have decided to eat in the tavern, Merry. I know we were going to dine together but, if you don’t mind, we’ll do so another time.’
    ‘I don’t want to intrude, Nicco. I can always meet you later, pal,’ Otto said quickly.
    ‘No, that’s fine,’ Merry said, trying not to grin as relief flooded through her. Hastily she jumped down and picked up her parcel. ‘Thanks for the lift, Nicco. Good night, Otto.’
    Although it was still light, Merry was surprised to see a group of women gathered outside the building by the mill. Usually they’d be indoors at this time, putting their children to bed or clearing away after their evening meal. Some were looking despondent, others angry, and although they had their knitting with them, the pins lay idle.
    ‘What’s up?’ Merry asked, drawing alongside them.
    ‘That new agent, that’s what,’ Ailla muttered. ‘He opened his new business today and when we took him our knitting he told us he’s had to cut the rate he can pay us.’
    ‘Said there’s no demand for our work and he was doing us a favour,’ Tressa scoffed.
    ‘But if that were true why would he have increased our target? It’s a sham,’ Kelys spat. ‘Even with the damping down we’re out of pocket.’
    ‘He didn’t catch on, then?’ Merry asked.
    ‘Didn’t blinking look at our work long enough,’ Marya spluttered, two red spots appearing on her cheeks. ‘Just counted the number we handed in, then gave us yarn to make more. Inferior it is too, all the thread’s splitting.’
    ‘Like them peas he gave me. They’re so split they’ll disintegrate as soon as I put them in water.’
    ‘The goods he gave me were stale and barely edible,’ Delen spluttered. ‘How am I to feed my girls properly? Primmy and Caja might look like sparras but they got appetites like gannets.’
    ‘You just returned from Plymouth, Merry?’ Slowly she nodded, not liking the glint in Kelys’s eyes. ‘How did you get on?’ the woman asked, staring pointedly at her parcel.
    ‘Mr Fairbright’s given me another order,’ she admitted.
    ‘Perhaps he’d take our work too? Tressa asked.
    ‘I could ask,’ Merry offered.
    ‘Well, knitter women, let me tell you something for nothing.’ As the steely tones of the new agent cut across their conversation, the little group fell silent. ‘Like my father before me, I am a fair man,’ he continued fixing them with a gimlet stare.
    ‘And my old man’s a bank manager,’ Kelys muttered.
    ‘Did you say something?’ Mr Sharp asked, pointing to the grey-haired woman.
    Kelys shook her head and looked away.
    ‘As I was saying,’ he continued. ‘I am a fair man and I expect loyalty in return. Anyone not wishing to trade with me, put up your hand now.’ The women glanced at each other uneasily but no one moved. ‘I will take that as
acceptance of my conditions, then. As for you, that maid with the white hair,’ he continued, turning the full force of his gaze on Merry. ‘What’s your name?’
    ‘Merryn Dyer, sir,’ she answered, clutching her parcel tighter.
    ‘Well, Merryn Dyer, if I catch you trying to entice my knitters away again, I’ll make sure Fairbright hears about it. And if that happens, you can be sure no one will deal with you ever again. Do I make myself clear?’
    ‘But I …’ Merry began. But he’d already turned away and she was talking to