The Sweethearts Collection. Pam Jenoff
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‘By the way, Jago’s sister burned her hand testing the rock and can’t make up the cones for his Nelson’s buttons and bullseyes. It’s a shame for you know the punters will pay more if the sweets are nicely wrapped. They do like a little memento to take home.’ She paused, then as Al took a sip of his drink, winked at Colenso.
‘What say the girl makes up the cones in here?’ he cried, his blue eyes brightening as he gestured around the van.
‘Why Al, what a marvellous idea,’ Mara gushed. ‘What do you say, Colenso? Isn’t Big Al here clever to think of such a solution?’ she asked, turning to Colenso.
‘Er, yes,’ she replied, trying to keep a straight face, for clearly Mara had outfoxed him.
‘Well, after what Mara’s told me, it wouldn’t be human to throw you out,’ he muttered in Colenso’s direction. ‘Can’t have no fancy names so you’re to answer to Col and keep dressed like a boy, all right?’
‘That’s fine and I really do appreciate …’ Colenso began but he’d already turned back to Mara.
‘Don’t want no trouble so I reckon she should stay in the van until we reach Zennor.’
‘That sounds sensible, Al,’ Mara agreed, again making it sound as if he’d come up with the plan she’d originally devised.
‘Right, well, better get back. I’ve a show to run out there, you know,’ he grunted, draining his glass. ‘Nice drop of sloe gin, that.’
‘The hedges were generous with their bounty last autumn,’ Mara grinned. ‘I’ll speak to Jago first thing tomorrow.’ She waited until he’d left then turned to Colenso. ‘Right, now that’s sorted, let’s get you cleaned up. Colenso frowned down at her blood-encrusted hands then winced as Mara gently dabbed them with a kerchief soaked in the gin. ‘You’ll have blisters come morning but could have been worse.’
‘Why are you helping me like this?’ Colenso asked.
‘What am I meant to do, leave you to the mercy of those beasts?’ Mara muttered.
‘But …’
‘No buts. Let’s just say someone once helped me when I needed it and now it’s my turn to return the favour. Right, all done. You get some shut-eye while I go back to my tent. There’s a goodly crowd out there with money burning holes in their pockets. I can’t afford to miss the opportunity of having my palm crossed with silver,’ she grinned and, before Colenso could thank her, disappeared outside.
✳
‘Have you made cones before?’ Jago asked her the next morning. With his hazel eyes and shock of white hair, he appeared older than Colenso had expected. However, his gentle, unassuming manner soon put her at her ease.
‘No,’ she admitted.
‘Oh well, ’tis easy. Must be, else Karla would never manage,’ he grinned. ‘Look, all you do is cut out circles of paper, fold each into four, unwrap, and slice down the creases,’ he said, demonstrating deftly. ‘Roll each one into shape, mould the pointed end like so, then paste the edges,’ he said, dipping his finger into the flour-and-water mixture. ‘Then, hey presto,’ he said, triumphantly holding up the finished cone. ‘Now you try.’
It took Colenso a couple of goes before she’d grasped the technique to his satisfaction but finally he nodded.
‘That’s good. Sometimes for special occasions like the Flora Day, Karla fashions scallops out of the edges of circles before she cuts them but that’s up to you. I’m just mighty obliged for any help you can give me.’
‘Let me master this, then I’ll give the fancy ones a try. The time passes slowly cooped up in here so I’ll be happy to have something to do. Not that I’m complaining,’ she added quickly in case he thought her ungrateful. ‘And I really enjoyed reading your sweetmeat journal.’
‘Did you?’ he asked, looking pleased. ‘It was Grandmother’s life’s work to ensure all her receipts were recorded. She drew all the pictures of how they should look, too. When you’re allowed out, as it were, come and see me at the Panam stall. I’ll be delighted to show you what we sell.’
‘Do you and Karla make all the sweets?’
‘Mostly, although it varies from fair to fair, depending on how long we stay in each place. I’ve gotten to know ladies who make different confections that I collect along the way. Adds variety to the Panam and gives them the opportunity to earn some money. Don’t know how long Karla will be out of action though. Her hand turned nasty so I told her to stay home with Mother until it heals.’
‘How did she manage to burn it so badly?’
‘Testing the consistency of the syrup,’ he sighed. ‘Didn’t get her finger out in time,’ he shrugged.
‘That’s terrible,’ Colenso gasped, her blisters suddenly seeming mild by comparison.
‘Occupational hazard,’ he shrugged. ‘Don’t look so shocked, she knew the risk. Besides if she hadn’t been daydreaming about her follower, it wouldn’t have happened.’ Follower? How old was his sister then? Perhaps Jago was younger than she’d first thought for, although he had that shock of white hair, his eyes were clear, his skin smooth.
‘Well, I’d better leave you to it,’ he said, interrupting her musing as he got to his feet. ‘Get Mara to drop those over to the Panam when you’re done.’
‘Do you sell a lot of sweets?’ she asked.
‘Oh yes. If the men don’t win something on the stalls for their ladies to take home then they have to purchase them a gift or their lives wouldn’t be worth living. Then there are the children who want to spend their precious pennies on rock or barley-sugar twists,’ he grinned.
Pleased to have something useful to do to pass the time, Colenso pulled out the little table and settled down to making the cones. It was an easy enough task, even within the confines of the little van and with all the noise and kerfuffle going on outside.
As the pile grew, she found her mind wandering. She thought of Kitto and wondered how he was getting on. Had her mamm given him her necklace yet? And if she had, what would his reaction be? Would he be able to get time off from work to follow after her? His family were reliant on his wage after all.
With a shudder, she thought of the Ferret, recalling what her mamm had heard about his first wife. Would he really try and find her? He would have been furious at having had a wasted journey to their cottage. But no doubt her father would have made up some story to cover his tracks. However, there was no getting away from the fact that, without her accepting his proposal, there would be no promotion for her father or new cottage for her mamm. Her father wasn’t one to let an opportunity like that slip through his fingers, so perhaps Mara was right and he would come after her.
She shivered in the dying light. As shadows crept slowly round the little van, the extent of the danger she could be in finally sank home and she vowed to lie low until they reached this place called Zennor, wherever that might be.
‘Sorry, dearie, but you’ll have to get out and walk. Ears can’t manage these hills with you in the van.’ Colenso looked up in surprise to see Mara peering down at her.
‘Is it safe?’ she asked nervously, her dreams having been haunted by images of the Ferret and her father coming after her.
‘Put your cap on and keep your head down,’ she ordered. ‘Come on, look sharp or we’ll never make it to Zennor in time.’ Colenso looked at Mara with her red scarf tied elegantly round her head then glared at the itchy, woollen hat she’d come to hate. Still, it was worth suffering the discomfort if it meant she could be outside, she thought, ramming it on top of the tufts of her hair.
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