Shadow on the Highway by Deborah Swift Page A

help her dress. It irked me every time, though I tried not to show it and to be a good servant. This was the fifth meeting they had had at the barn in as many weeks and every time my heart was in my mouth in case Mr Grice or his servants might catch us in the barn instead of strolling in the grounds, or in case any of the Diggers arrived early.
    The weather had turned warm and dry, so one of the double doors swung a little ajar to allow a breeze. Ralph had rallied support amongst his friends so the barn now held about fifteen people, mostly young men, but some women too, all animatedly discussing the plans for the new Digger community on Nomansland Common.
    ‘I hope we get more rain soon,’ Jacob Mallinson said, ‘or the planting will be hard. We’ll stand or fall by this first harvest.’
    ‘What do you think, Abi? Can you feel anything?’ Ralph mimed rain and raised his eyebrows questioningly. He always asked me because I was good at sensing changes in the air.
    ‘No rain yet. The air’s still as pondwater,’ I said.
    But despite this, I was restless, the straw bale I was sitting on prickled through my skirts. I was also spitting mad because Lady Katherine had made me sew a new coarse wool skirt and sleeves, and I had worked hard on them all week before realising they were for her, not for me. So there she sat in her new skirt and sleeves, drawing all the young men’s eyes and most especially the eyes of my brother.
    I looked at her now and the sight of her made me even more enraged. The fact she spoke little seemed to make her more alluring. Last week Ralph had said she was delightful – so shy and modest, just the way a maid should be. I felt like slapping him, and had to go away and howl my frustration by kicking at the stone gatepost. And wouldn’t you know, Jacob Mallinson saw me doing it, and he looked at me as though I had lost my reason.
    At the meeting there was talk of building four houses on the common, and everyone was assigned tasks or certain labours to do. I said I’d gather wood for the fires, and I was astonished when Kate volunteered to go with them to set up the kitchen by building a hearth and arranging a trestle for the pot. I simply could not imagine it, milady doing such work.
    ‘Your mistress seems very lax with her servants. That’s the third time in a month you have both had a half-day,’ Jacob said to me, and rubbed his neck, perplexed.
    ‘She is ill abed, and cares not what we do,’ Kate said, before I could answer.
    ‘But I heard she’s a hard taskmaster, isn’t that right, Abi? Abi had to scrub all the windows for hours last week until her hands were sore,’ Ralph said.
    A blush spread up Kate’s neck. ‘Our mistress does not mean to be so harsh, I’m sure.’
    ‘Never fear Kate, soon you’ll have no masters but the wind and weather,’ Ralph said.
    ‘Here’s to that day!’ Jacob slapped him on the back.
    I looked at Jacob in his neat breeches and white shirt. I could not imagine him living in a cob-built shelter. He had grown up in a fine brick house with his father, the elected constable of the village, and now he had a tithe cottage on the Fanshawe estate. He did not seem to fit into this rough labourer’s life. I couldn’t help but wonder if Jacob’s father knew of his son’s plans.
    It was agreed by all that we would go to the common at first light, and quietly, so that we would have order established before anyone at the village could prevent us.
    Dusk had fallen during our talking and I opened the door wider to catch some moonlight so as to see better what folk were saying. We were just finishing our business when I caught a wisp of movement near the door. Someone was listening. I jumped up and hurried to the door, and was just in time to see the white apron tails of Mistress Binch whisk around the side of the barn. I sprinted after her but she was quick as a hare and soon in behind the kitchen door.
    Fortunately we had all had our backs to her. What if