Calico Road by Anna Jacobs

age as his mother would have been if she’d lived and a pang shot through him to think of her being afraid of him. ‘Tell me what the trouble is, then.’
    The front door of the alehouse banged and a voice called, ‘Shall I get my own beer, Mary?’
    She pulled away from Toby, wiping her eyes on her apron. ‘I’ll get it for him. You’re not used to drawing beer yet and I don’t like them touching my clean taps and jugs with their dirty hands.’
    As she moved swiftly through the doorway into the public room, Toby went to watch her, heedless of his meal going cold. She drew beer into the jug from the barrel and filled one of the earthenware pots. Unlike Ross, she didn’t spill any. When the man paid she put the money into a little drawer behind the small counter.
    She looked from him to the newcomer uncertainly. ‘Jim, this is Toby Fletcher, the new owner. Jim’s got a farm to the west of the village. His daughter Alice helps out here sometimes.’
    The man threw a sour look in Toby’s direction and jerked his head slightly in a way which could be taken as a greeting.
    ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Toby said, coming forward to stand behind Mary. ‘Give him his money back. The first drink for my first customer is free, to celebrate my taking over the inn.’
    The man’s face brightened a little and he held his hand out for his coin then raised his pot to Toby and drank deep.
    She frowned and shook her head as if not pleased with this.
    ‘Go and get your food while it’s warm. I’ll join you in a minute or two.’ When Mary looked at him uncertainly, Toby pushed her gently towards the house place, then turned back to his customer. He’d been hoping for a chat but the man had gone to sit by the fire with his back to the counter, so Toby leaned against the wall and studied his new domain instead, debating how to start a conversation.
    Quite a large room, this, with several tables, some benches and stools, and a few wooden armchairs. It was getting dark outside now and at the moment there was only the firelight to brighten the place. The counter was poorly made but well scrubbed and the pots waiting for use were clean. There was a tray for the dirty pots and a bucket for any slops.
    He went to collect the pots the group of men had left behind on the table. ‘Nasty sort of day, isn’t it?’ he offered as the customer looked up.
    A grunt was his only answer, so Toby shrugged and went into the house place again.
    Mary stood up when he entered. ‘I’ll go and mind the public room.’
    ‘We’ll hear if anyone else comes in. Sit down and tell me what you meant. How have you been deceiving me?’
    She swallowed hard then said in a rush, ‘My name’s not Mary and I’m not Ross’s cousin. I’m the wife of the man who used to run this place. Young Mr Greenhalgh told me I was to leave after Hal died, only I didn’t. I don’t have any family left, you see, so I’ve nowhere else to go. Mr Greenhalgh gave me some money, but what’s money when you’re among strangers? I’ve lived here for over twenty year now and it’s my home and – and I don’t want to leave. So Ross said to change my name and pretend I was his cousin and just – well, stay on. He didn’t reckon Mr Greenhalgh would be back, so he’d never know I’d not done as he said. Only we never thought about them selling the inn to someone else.’
    Toby smiled at her. ‘Is that all you’ve done to deceive me? I don’t reckon it’s a hanging crime. What’s your real name?’
    ‘Phoebe Dixon.’
    He studied her, head on one side. ‘That suits you much better than Mary. Well, Phoebe, since I’m the owner now, it’s up to me who stays or goes. So I’ll ask you again: will you stay and work with me, teach me my trade, be my housekeeper and cook?’ He waited, then burst out laughing, ‘Oh, no, don’t start crying again, woman!’
    So she both laughed and cried, then wiped away her tears and gave him a wobbly smile. ‘You’ll never regret