Shadows at Stonewylde - By Kit Berry Page 0,30

or at least watch the television occasionally. That skirt is nothing, really.’

‘’Taint decent,’ grumbled Cherry. ‘They’ll catch their death o’ cold when the weather turns.’

‘We all will if something’s not done soon about the boilers,’ agreed Martin. ‘My report will be depressing for some. There’s a lot of work needs doing at the Hall in the year ahead.’

‘Same in the Village,’ said Tom. ‘A whole load o’ work to keep the cottages in repair, and we have to do something soon about the young ’uns wanting their own places. We’ve no room and that’s a fact.’

He shook his grizzled head and slurped at his tea.

‘I’ve got some ideas about that issue,’ said Hazel. ‘But I’ll wait till we give our reports. How’s your arthritis now, Greenbough?’

‘Still playing me up when ‘tis damp, but mustn’t grumble. I think after this year ahead I’ll put myself out to pasture though.

‘Tis all a bit much for me in the woods nowadays and my goodwife keeps on as how I should be biding at home with her in my old age.’

‘You and me both,’ said Hart, who’d taken over from Old Stag in the orchards a few years ago but was advanced in years himself. ‘Reckon I’m about ready to do my last harvest.’

‘And how are the schools getting on with the Samhain preparations?’ Sylvie asked. Yul and Harold were quietly discussing something, excluding themselves from the general chat.

‘Very well,’ smiled Dawn. ‘The crows are all painted now and they look lovely.’

‘The Seniors are finishing carving the Jack o’ Lanterns today,’ said Miranda. ‘They’ll put them up in the Barn tonight.’

‘Celandine and Bluebell were very excited about their Samhain masks,’ Sylvie said to Rowan, trying to draw her into the conversation. At twenty-nine, Rowan was a beauty, tall and statuesque with rich brown hair and skin like cream. As a result of her stint as May Queen all those years ago, she’d given birth to a pretty little girl called Faun, and had then taken advantage of the changes at Stonewylde and continued her education. Rowan was a determined and patient young woman and several years later, having worked in the Nursery as Faun grew up, she eventually took over the running of the place as the older women retired.

Rowan continued the excellent traditions, where the children roamed out of doors for much of the day and played freely. She combined this Stonewylde philosophy with what she’d learnt at college about child development, and did an excellent job as head of the Nursery. She was quiet and reserved, raising her daughter with the help of her family and never looking to be hand-fasted; she made no secret of the fact that Magus was the only man she’d ever loved. Sylvie found her difficult to engage in conversation even though she saw Rowan every day at the Nursery. Rowan nodded, agreeing that the masks had been particularly artistic this year.

‘And they’re really looking forward to the Samhain dance,’ continued Sylvie, determined to get her talking. ‘Celandine told me how pleased you were with it.’

‘It’s hard not to be pleased with Celandine,’ said Rowan. ‘Her dancing is better than anyone else’s. I think she has a rare gift.’

‘Thank you,’ said Sylvie, glowing with pride. ‘And how’s Faun getting on at school? I noticed her in the library the other day. She’s so tall and such a beauty, isn’t she?’

Rowan glanced at Sylvie and looked away quickly. She shuffled her report and replied a little stiffly that Faun seemed to be doing well in her first year at Senior School. Sylvie gave up and spoke to Dawn instead, recalling her recent conversation with Miranda.

‘What do you think of our latest arrivals at the Hall School?’ she asked innocently. She liked Dawn and had been so pleased when the Council of Elders had agreed to her return, after graduating as a teacher. Very few Hallfolk had stayed after Yul took over as magus, but Dawn had always been kind to Sylvie when all the others had ostracised her and Sylvie knew she had a good soul. Dawn, like Rowan, had worked her way up and was now head teacher at the Village School which all children aged seven to twelve attended. Everyone was taught to read and write of course, and Dawn blended sound pedagogy with the Stonewylde way of life.

She noticed Dawn blush slightly and smiled to herself, thinking it was high time that Dawn found herself a partner.

‘They both seem very nice indeed,’ she replied. ‘The

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