About The Hollow Ground – Episode 34
About The Hollow Ground by Pamela Kavanagh
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Piers was in the stackyard, checking the hayricks for signs of heat, when Nan appeared, a hooded cape keeping off the rain.
“Merriman, there you are. May I have a word?”
“Certainly, mistress. Shall we step inside?”
They stood in the doorway of the grain store, looking out at the waterlogged scene before them.
“The brook’s overflowing its banks,” Piers said. “I regret not going ahead with the culvert directly after the hay harvest, while we had the extra hands to tackle the job.”
“Is there anything that can be done to help matters?” Nan asked him.
“The men are occupied elsewhere. If the problem persists we shall need to think of something. Get what workforce we have together and start digging. For the moment, pray for a break in the weather.”
Piers left it at that. He had work to see to. There was no time to stand there speculating.
“You wished to speak to me, mistress?” he prompted.
“Yes. Merriman, about the question of farm bailiff. Have you given any thought to my offer?”
“Aye, on and off.”
It was partly the truth. He was already doing the job unofficially, and it followed that he should be credited with the title and the benefits it entailed.
However, certain matters were getting in the way of making the commitment, not least the prospect of remaining at Cross Lanes and seeing Nan pledge her troth to Harrison.
He looked into her face and thought how strained it was. There were dark shadows around her eyes, as if she had not been sleeping well.
“May I have another day or two to consider?”
“Of course. I’m sure I don’t have to repeat how dearly I would like you to have the position. But there, we all have private concerns that influence our decisions. I shan’t probe.”
She broke off, a distant look entering her eyes.
“Mistress?”
“What? Oh, it’s nothing. Just something my papa used to say. I may have mentioned it before. ‘The echoes still resound about the hollow ground.’ Papa said it meant all is not what it seems.”
Piers’s stomach clenched. The quotation could well have applied to him and he was not proud of it.
“Echoes of the past coming back to plague us? It’s a thought. A rather disturbing one. I reckon there’s more hollow ground in folk’s lives than many would admit,” he said uncomfortably.
“Papa called it a warning always to be on one’s guard.”
“No doubt he had his reasons for that. A man draws his experience from observations and makes his own conclusions.”
“Yes, I am sure you are right. How astute you are, Merriman,” Nan replied.
And how deceptive, Piers added to himself. The conversation had gone some way towards steering his path along lines that would take him away from here.
A fellow could not hide for ever. Maybe the time had come to stand up for himself; to return to his former place of employment and clear his name.
How he would go about it, he had no idea. But if there were any justice to be had, the truth would out.
“Market day tomorrow. Is there aught I should get?” he said, bringing his mind back to the present.
“Just that harness for the new working horse. The set he came with is past its best. Oh, and maybe some additional tools should we need to go ahead with the culvert. You have me concerned now, Merriman.”
“Always best to be prepared, mistress,” Piers said, and was rewarded with a smile of such brilliance it was like the sun coming out after a storm.
