Chapter 33. A Tisket, a Tasket

A fortnight later Mrs Cotton looked sharply at Estella over the noontide meal, which she took with the Cottons for it was Frodo’s day to sit with Freddy. ‘Your hair’s starting to grow out again,’ she observed.

Estella raised her hand to her thick, dark curls, feeling the truth twining round her fingers. ‘Looks as if the sheep needs another shearing already,’ she sighed.

’Not necessarily,’ Mrs Cotton said, her eyes narrowing as if she saw something other than the dark head before her. She got up from the table to refill the teapot but did not sit down after placing the pot back on the table. Instead she left the kitchen, but was back only a moment or two later, a bit of bright cloth in her hand.

’Here,’ she said, ‘let us try this on for looks.’ It was a kerchief of the kind the farm girls wear when out in the garden hoeing, or hanging wash, or picking apples or cherries, or any number of chores where flyaway curls escaping from a braid or bun are as annoying as midges. Mrs Cotton folded the kerchief into a neat triangle, laid it over Estella’s head, tied it at the back of her neck, and stepped back to survey the effect.

’You don’t look at all like yourself,’ she said. ‘Especially in Rose’s old dress; you could be any farm lass.’ Almost, she thought to herself. There was no disguising the girl’s delicate beauty, but the old dress and the kerchief covering her hair certainly made her look different from the elegantly clad, high-born lass who’d walked the Bywater market with her brother and her cousin Frodo, laughing, before the Troubles blighted the Shire. Walked? Danced, more like. Miss Estella was more a butterfly than a hobbit, though Mrs Cotton had to admit the girl wasn’t afraid to dirty her hands.

’Let us try it on Mr Freddy and see what he does,’ Rose said, getting up from the table. ‘He ought to be done with his nooning by now.’ She took Estella’s hand and walked her down to Freddy’s door, tapping and sticking her head in. ‘Hullo Mr Freddy, I’ve got someone for you to meet!’

’Bring them on,’ Freddy said. ‘I always like to get meeting and greeting over with early; it gives me the rest of the day for abusing those already near and dear to me.’

’Come along, Tillie!’ Rose said, pulling at Estella’s arm. ‘My cousin Tillie,’ she said. ‘Tillie, this is Mr Freddy, who’s staying with us for a bit.’

Estella made a bob like the one she’d seen Rose make, ducked her head and mumbled shyly, ‘Pleased to make yer acquaintance, Mr Freddy.’

’At your service, lass,’ Freddy said. ‘No need to be shy around me, I hardly ever bite.’

’We pulled all his teeth ages ago,’ Frodo said, ‘so the worst he can do is gum you unpleasantly.’ His eyes were glinting with mischief.

’Have you met my sister yet?’ Freddy went on. ‘You look a bit like her. Perhaps a tad prettier, d’you think so, Frodo?’

’O you old Gaffer, you!’ Estella said. ‘You ought to say I’m much prettier, so that I blush and stammer and retreat in confusion.’

’I’ll keep that in mind,’ Freddy said placidly, lifting his cup to his lips.

’Really midge, you don’t look at all like yourself,’ Frodo said, his eyes smiling. And that’s all to the good, Estella read in his expression. She nodded.

’May I take yer tray, young sor?’ she said with another nervous little bob.

’You may, child, and my thanks go with you,’ Freddy said, putting his teacup down on the saucer and winking as Estella picked up the tray. He yawned widely.

’Are you sleepy, Freddy?’ Frodo asked solicitously.

’Completely exhausted,’ Freddy answered. ‘Good thing I’m already in a bed.’ Frodo smiled and pulled the pillows from behind him to lie him down. ‘Ah,’ Freddy added as Rose pulled the bedclothes up to his chin. ‘This is living.’ He sighed and closed his eyes.

’Sleep well, cousin,’ Frodo said softly. ‘I’ll keep watch.’

’You do that,’ Freddy murmured without opening his eyes. He sighed again... and slept.

Estella returned from the kitchen after helping with the washing up to say, ‘Do you want me to watch with him now, cousin?’

’No,’ Frodo said. ‘It is easier to avoid writing as long as I’m sitting here.’

’Have you come to a stopping place?’ Estella asked, curious.

’Not at all,’ Frodo said. ‘I haven’t even started yet.’ He stretched. ‘O I’ve got my notes all organised; I’m ready to plunge in, but I’m a bit tired this day.’

’Difficult night?’ Estella said softly. Frodo only nodded. ‘Do you want me to bring you anything? Another cup of tea?’

’No,’ Frodo said. ‘To tell the truth, I might just doze a bit myself as long as your brother is quiet and peaceful. Why don’t you take yourself off for a walk? I see the Sun has peeked her face out from the clouds for a bit today.’

’Would you like to come with me, Miss?’ Rose said. She had just finished dusting the room, cleaning out the little grate and laying a fresh fire. ‘I’m to take tea with Marigold Gamgee this afternoon. We could see what they have in the market on the way.’

’I heard they found another abandoned barn just stuffed with things the ruffians had gathered,’ Frodo said. ‘It ought to be a good market day in Bywater.’

’O aye,’ Estella said with a broad Tookish accent. ‘Ye have the right of it there, lad. Those ruffians had a good eye when it came to gathering, and there ought to be a right fine choice on the market tables this day.’

’Go on with ye, Twig,’ Frodo said in the same vein. ‘And bring me back a hank of Longbottom Leaf, o aye, if there’s any to be had. Me poor pipe’s been that lonely of late, I’ll be telling you!’

Rose was convulsed with laughter, but she put a finger to her lips and shook her duster at the sleeping figure in the bed.

’Don’t ye mind him any, that’s me old gaffer,’ Estella said softly. ‘Keeps us awake half the night with his snoring, he does, and turnabout’s fair play, I say.’

’Come along, Miss,’ Rose said, pulling at Estella’s arm, ‘before the day is gone and we miss our tea!’

Estella made another bob for Frodo’s benefit and said, ‘Have a nice rest, my venerable and ancient cousin, and I will see if there is any pipeweed to be found.’

’Have a nice walk, young whippersnapper!’ Frodo creaked. ‘And try to get back afore I die of old age!’ Estella grinned and allowed Rose to pull her away.

***

It was a pleasant day for mid-December, unusually mild after a week of cold rain. A lass needed only a shawl thrown over her head and shoulders rather than the heavy cloak of oiled wool usually called for this time of year. Rose and Estella walked down the lane towards Bywater, laughing and chatting almost as if they were cousins. Estella enjoyed the relaxed manners she’d known as a member of a farm family, when she was Twig. Rose, usually shy in the presence of gentry, found this girl no different than herself really. It was funny what a difference clothes made.

When they reached Bywater, Rose and Estella browsed through the market stalls, exclaiming at the riches to be found there. The merchants had laboured at clearing the goods from the old abandoned barn, taking stock, cleaning what needed to be cleaned, counting and sorting the rest, identifying the owners if at all possible in order to return “gathered” items to their proper places. The rest was sold in the marketplace and the merchants earned half the proceeds of the sales they made. The other half would go to help hobbits left homeless by the Troubles.

Estella was happy to find a quantity of Old Toby for her cousin; not Longbottom Leaf, it was true, but better than nothing. She bought a few coppers’ worth, for Freddy would enjoy it as much as Frodo would. Farmer Cotton had generously shared what had been hidden in his barn so he ought to have some as well.

While Rose was busy with the fishmonger (How nice to have fresh-caught fish available again! The ruffians had taken all for months), Estella browsed a stall of “pretties” and purchased a carven wristlet, the perfect little thing to give to Rose at Yuletide, and two nice combs for Mrs Cotton’s hair. She wasn’t sure what to get all those Cotton lads; perhaps she and Rose could stir up a pan of candy for them, divide it and wrap it nicely in a little package for each. She secreted all her finds in her basket beneath two more bright kerchiefs, and when Rose was finished with her shopping she was ready as well.

Suddenly a clear voice called Rose’s name and the girls looked up from their perusal of wooden spoons to see Merry Brandybuck guiding his pony through the market-day crowd.

’Rose!’ he said again, sliding from his saddle. ‘Ah, Rose, what a pleasure it is to lay my eyes upon you!’ He took one of Rose’s hands between his two and beamed at her.

’Mr Merry,’ she said in an urgent undertone. ‘Sam’s nowhere about to see this!’

’Ah, but he’ll hear tell I’ve no doubt,’ Merry whispered, then said in a loud tone, ‘but have you changed your mind, sweet Rosie? Have you decided to make me the happiest hobbit in the Shire?’

Rose jerked her hand away, eyes snapping. ‘Mr Merry! This is neither the time nor the place...’ she was aware of eager eyes and ears drinking in every word and nuance.

’Would it make a difference if I go down on my knees?’ Merry asked tenderly.

’On your knees in the mud, in your mail and all?’ Rose said, horrified. ‘Mr Merry, have you taken leave of your senses?’

’I have,’ Merry said solemnly. ‘Indeed, for being in the presence of the loveliest lass in the Shire is making my head whirl.’

Rose suddenly pulled Estella from behind her. ‘Speaking of which, I’d like you to meet my cousin Tillie,’ she said, thrusting Estella forward.

’Pleased to meet you, Tillie,’ Merry murmured politely, but he obviously had eyes only for Rose, well pleased with the impression he was making. When Samwise did get back from his forestry business, he’d get an earful for sure. ‘Tell me, Rose, is there any hope for me? Do say that there is...’

’I’d say there is hope indeed,’ Rose said, and Merry brightened, ‘hope that is, of having tea with your cousins if you get right back on that pony and make haste to the farm. They ought to be pouring out soon, and if you tarry any longer you’ll miss it.’

‘Ah, Rose, you are a hard-hearted lass, but I hope to win you over yet,’ Merry said with a deep bow. He grinned and swung aboard his pony again. ‘Farewell, dearest lass.’

’Go on with you, Merry Brandybuck,’ Rose said, not at all politely, for she was exasperated and worried in the bargain about the parental scolding that might result from this scene.

’Good day, Miss Rose, Miss Tillie,’ Merry said in parting.

’Good riddance!’ Rose said under her breath, turning her back on him and pulling Estella along.

Estella’s shoulders were shaking with mirth. ‘You really ought to accept him one of these times,’ she gasped when she could get her breath. ‘I should dearly love to see his face.’

’I just might,’ Rose said grimly, ‘just to see Sam’s face. If he would only speak all this nonsense would come to an end.’ It would be so much simpler if she could be the one to speak to Samwise; after all, he was the one who was shy. But if she did and the word got out, there'd be such a scandal, and her parents would be grieved, and Samwise might be so put off that he'd never speak. Her stormy thoughts were interrupted quite suddenly.

’O Rose, you wouldn’t!’ Estella said, stopping short. Rose started to bridle, thinking of the obvious reasons why she couldn’t marry Meriadoc Brandybuck even if he should ask her in all seriousness, but looking at Estella’s face she realised the truth of the matter. The girl was not at all putting Rose in her place, o no. It seemed that Rose was not the only lass with feelings for a hobbit who didn’t seem to notice she existed.

’Come along, “Tillie”,’ she said gently. ‘Marigold’s waiting for us, and her old gaffer will be very put out if tea is not served on time.’