‘Bothick Mine produces good quality clay, but I don’t believe that Stenna Pit will produce the right type of clay for porcelain.’
‘But the pit could earn so much more if it was included in the contract, Talek. How would they ever find out?’
‘You just have to look at Stenna Pit. Its walls are tinged pink from the iron and is not as white as the others. Their representative would never accept it and I would not blame them. I can’t risk our good name for good quality clay production. We will only use the clay from Bothick.’
‘I assume there is no point in asking for a vote on this. Amelia will only side with you as she always does.’
Talek looked at his friend. ‘I’m sorry, Henry. You must understand where I am coming from in this?’
Henry reluctantly agreed. ‘I just wish Stenna showed more profit.’ He brightened. ‘However, hats off to you, Talek. Caradon Potteries is one of the finest and we must ensure their representative is pleased with what he sees so they cannot say no.’ Henry stood up. ‘Let’s get out of here. I’ve not seen Amelia for some time and I’m curious to meet your new employee.’
Talek remained seated. ‘I see her more as a guest.’
‘Because she means more to you than a mere employee?’
‘Because I have no intention of her staying for too long.’
Henry approached the ornate stand in the corner and reached for his coat. ‘Are you coming?’ he asked as he shrugged into it, taking care to pass the ledger from hand to hand as he did so.
Talek opened a drawer and withdrew some paper. ‘I’ve work to do here. Go and charm my sister. I know she enjoys your visits.’ He heard Henry’s soft laughter, but did not look up again until the door closed.
A hooter sounded outside, marking the end of the miners’ shift. He abandoned his desk and went to the window to watch the clay workers slowly emerge and begin their trek home. As the beam engine and wagons slowed and fell silent, hot, flushed men emerged from the dry kilns into the late evening sun. The old blacksmith, who had been mending tools and making barrels for transporting fine clay for most of his adult life, emerged from his stone building. As they slowly left, a line of men, sprinkled in clay dust, appeared from the clay pit summit and gradually made their way down the hill, following a well-trodden path past the settling pits, drying kilns and crib huts to the road that would take them home.
He imagined Henry arriving at Roseland and being warmly greeted by his sister and Grace. Henry’s charm would soon have them both smiling coyly at him and enjoying his company and Talek couldn’t help wondering if he had made the right choice by not accompanying him. His office was on the second floor of an old brick utility building and afforded him a good view of the clay site at his feet. It did not take long for the site to empty of workers and an eerie silence descended around the grounds. The loneliness that often plagued Talek had never felt so strong.
Chapter Nine
The month of May soon gave away to June. Grace’s oasis, the garden, came alive with noisy fledgling birds searching for food as their parents watched over them. Their mistakes and clumsiness was a constant form of entertainment to Grace. Amelia, however, appeared to find little joy in their antics and preferred to read.
Yet even in this solitary escape from her small world, Amelia had little choice in what she read. She had to rely on recommendations from Grace and a servant to collect the book, rather than journey out to visit the bookshop herself. ‘Although I would love to choose a book for myself,’ she said once, ‘the interior is too cluttered, with no chair to rest upon and only narrow spaces between the shelves. Talek took me once but it was difficult for him to carry me safely up the narrow flight of stairs and around the books. It was not long before people began to stare at the invalid. I could not bear it and asked to be taken home. It was not a pleasant visit,’ she added, lamely.
Grace began to realise that Amelia’s initial good spirits hid a deeper sadness that would show itself subtly with a heartfelt sigh or burst of anger, triggered by seemingly small, yet insurmountable situations — a dropped napkin that she could not quite reach, a clumsy servant jolting her chair, a basic desire to relieve herself always having to require a flurry of servants to be called. Grace realised that this young, caring woman had no privacy as no ablution, no part of her body, no choice on her part was not witnessed and aided by someone else.
Henry’s frequent visits were another matter. His sudden appearance, as he strode into the drawing room unannounced, lifted her spirits and lit up her eyes in a way that everything else failed to do. Grace learnt from Amelia that she had always been attracted to him, even daring to hope he might make hiscasual visits more official by asking her to walk out with him. Sadly it was not to be. After her accident his visits had become infrequent. It was understandable, she had told Grace sadly, for she had been bedridden for several months and Talek was, naturally, preoccupied with her recovery. As a consequence, Henry was left alone at the helm of the business. Now his visits had returned and Amelia was delighted.
‘I have a proposition,’ said Henry, sitting down in the wicker chair opposite Amelia. It creaked under his weight as he rearranged the cushion behind him. ‘How do you fancy coming out with me for the day?’
‘Me?’ Amelia looked to Grace as if she couldn’t quite believe the offer. ‘Why that would be wonderful. Where will we go?’
‘For a long luxurious drive. How long has it been since you have left the clay lands? I suspect it is far too long.’
‘Far too long. We . . . Grace and I . . . intended to go out last week, but the wheelchair is cumbersome if there is no paved road and Grace cannot lift me down from the trap. We needed someone else to come with us and—’
‘Do not fret. I’m here and we can manage without Grace. I’m sure Grace would enjoy a break.’
Henry turned his boyish grin onto Grace. It was difficult to argue with such a lovely smile. Even so, Grace had a position of responsibility to fill.
‘I am happy to accompany Amelia, if she wishes me to come.’
‘There is no need for that. Amelia and I have known each other for years. There is no impropriety of us taking a ride together.’
‘Even so . . . I think it is Amelia who should have the final say.’
Grace knew, from the joy on Amelia’s face, what the answer would be.
‘You don’t have to come. I will be quite fine,’ Amelia said, barely concealing her excitement. ‘Have some time to yourself, without me holding you back.’
‘You never hold me back,’ said Grace.
