Daughters of Rebecca by Iris Gower Page A

arm. ‘Shanni! It’s me, Rosie Bevan. It’s nice to see a familiar face in the crowd.’ Rosie stood smiling at Shanni’s side. ‘I was supposed to meet my brothers here but they have let me down and I’ve been feeling so lonely and self-conscious all on my own. Would you mind if I walked around the stalls with you?’
    Shanni shook back her dark red hair. ‘I’d like some company too,’ she said. ‘I know what you mean about being alone – it’s as if I’m here just to get myself taken up by some young man or other.’
    It was not that she felt lonely, Shanni was happy in her own company and more than capable of dealing with anyone forward enough to talk to her, but half the fun of the fair was sharing the excitement with someone else.
    Rosie linked arms easily and, for a moment, Shanni was surprised – she was not used to such familiarity. Shanni and her mother had loved each other dearly but Dora Price had never been demonstrative.
    â€˜Oh, look!’ Shanni drew Rosie to a stall hung with ribbons in a variety of bright colours. ‘Aren’t they lovely?’
    She watched as Rosie ran her fingers through the silk and selected a ribbon in shiny olive green and one in gold. ‘One for you,’ she said, ‘and one for me.’ She handed the green ribbon to Shanni. ‘It should be a sweetheart giving you ribbons for your hair,’ Rosie smiled, ‘but there’s time enough for that and, anyway, it gives me pleasure to buy you a small gift.’
    Shanni was pleased. She held the silk ribbon, knowing it would suit her red hair. ‘You are so generous!’ she said. It was not that the ribbon cost a great deal of money but it was a gift from a lady Shanni hardly knew. She immediately tied her hair in a loose bun away from her face and Rosie, watching her, laughed. ‘Now you look even younger and more innocent than ever. Have you got a beau, Shanni, or are you still looking?’
    â€˜I’m not going to get married.’ Shanni spoke with determination. ‘I don’t want to be any man’s servant.’
    â€˜Oh dear.’ Rosie led her to the cordial tent. ‘You get us a seat and I’ll order us a drink. It’s so hot I think I’ll faint if I don’t have some refreshment.’
    Shanni sat on the roughly made wooden seat and stared round at the groups of people laughing and talking, enjoying the fun of the day. Some ladies were well dressed, with parasols and fine gowns of silks and satins. Shanni looked at her own muslin dress, pretty enough and spriggedwith bright cornflowers but marking her lowly place in society none the less.
    She watched as Rosie came back across the dried grass lifting her skirts clear of the dust. Rosie was an enigma: she spoke like a girl from the poorer quarters yet she appeared wealthy – left money, so downstairs gossip had it, by her late employer Alice Sparks. Still, Shanni could not hold that against Rosie even though she believed a woman should fend for herself. Rosie was a sweet, generous person, and it was no wonder Alice Sparks had wanted to show her appreciation.
    As Rosie came towards her Shanni realized she was very beautiful. What was wrong with Watt Bevan that he did not choose to live with his wife?
    â€˜The man is going to bring our drinks in a moment.’ Rosie sank into her chair. ‘You’re staring. Have I got a spot on my face or something?’
    â€˜Sorry!’ Shanni smiled. ‘It’s none of my business but I was just wondering why you don’t live with your husband.’
    She saw Rosie look away, a blush spreading over her neck and cheeks, and Shanni was ashamed. ‘That was rude of me!’ she said quickly. ‘It’s none of my business. My tongue sometimes runs ahead of my thoughts.’
    â€˜It’s all right,’ Rosie said. ‘I don’t mind telling you about Watt and me. We married